Hands Against the Wheel
Every star that I see is Brighter than the last
"We're going to have to stop for gas sometime soon," Bobby said, glancing over at the boy slumped beside him in the stolen car he was driving. "You wanna stop some place and get a room in a motel or something?"
John looked up at him with rounded eyes, his left hand still fiddling with the seam on the inside of Bobby's knee, and he smirked.
"Um... I mean – we can get a twin room, right? My parents just gave me my allowance last week, so..." Bobby elaborated, blushing. He had just hotwired a school vehicle, picked up a deviant fellow student who had gone AWOL with their principal's oldest friend and arch-nemesis and who had spent the entire past hour fiddling with his jeans and he was embarrassed about the implications of the phrase 'get a room'? He figured that he was really going to have to toughen up if he was going to see this through. Not that there was any sort of conclusion feasible, as far as he could tell. Just them and the road and either running out of money or places to run to.
John removed his hand and sat up, running his fingers through his hair, "Up to you, man. This was your idea."
Bobby tried to stare at him while keeping his eyes on the road, "My idea?"
"Who had the car when they nearly ran me down, huh?" John asked, pulling out his lighter and beginning to flick it open and closed. Bobby realised, suddenly, that the damn thing had been out of sight for as long as John had been fiddling with his jeans. Kiss on the cheek not withstanding, that probably explained the incessant fiddling. Not that Bobby had minded the fiddling. It made concentrating a little hard, sure, but... it was nice to have the contact. He cared about him, was sick with anxiety and insomnia when he left, and to know he was there without having to keep looking to check was comforting. He'd almost put an arm around him a few times, but after the brief period his own hand had spent on the other boy's thigh he thought he could be pushing things a little far like that.
"You came back, though," Bobby replied, frowning a little. Now he really thought about it, it didn't make sense for John to have returned only to run away again. "Why did you come back, John?"
John slouched down again and put one foot on the dash, "I told you. Every Thelma needs a Louise, man."
Bobby reached out and gently pushed the foot back down, "It's not our car," he said apologetically.
"You just ripped out the wiring and stole it, dumbass, I don't think they're gonna care about foot marks."
Bobby sighed, "I guess..." glancing at the sneakered feet, which were now back on the dash. They were wrapped in a pair of new-looking All Stars (black, naturally), and he wondered where they came from. Either Magneto or a five-finger discount, that much was obvious. For a few minutes they rode in silence, before he tried to ask his question again.
"Why did you come back, Johnny?" he asked, as a friend – a concerned friend – not someone who was going to judge him negatively whatever answer he gave.
"Why're you so bothered, Drake?" John asked, rolling his head over against the headrest to look at him, "I'm not here to take you to Magneto."
"I know that! I just..."
"Missed me?" John joked, giving a short laugh and looking back to his lighter. It clicked open, the flint scraped round, and it snapped shut.
Bobby nodded, then realised that John wasn't looking. "Uh... yeah," he said, his mouth feeling oddly dry, and he wished that he'd taken more time packing for the journey and brought refreshments. "Yeah, I did."
The lighter clicked open, but no flint scraped and it did not snap shut.
"You for real?" John asked, staring at the lighter, but not fiddling with it any longer.
Bobby nodded again and felt like an idiot because John was clearly still not looking. "Of course I'm for real. D'you really think I'd joke about that? You're my best friend, John – I was going out of my mind!"
John said nothing for a few moments, then asked, "What about Rogue? You gonna miss her?"
"She's... well, I guess it's kinda late now, but she's supposed to be my girlfriend. I'll miss her, but I know that Logan's there to take care of her. I think she'll be happy with that."
For someone who didn't like awkward silences, John was pretty good at them.
They drove for a long time without speaking again, the only sound coming from the click-whirr-snap of the lighter in John's hand, until they saw a sign for a gas station not too far ahead.
"We gotta stop," Bobby sighed, "I hope we haven't been reported yet..."
"Out here? These guys are practically hicks, they won't know a thing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. And besides, Xavier ain't going to screw around with getting the cops involved – he'll just get onto that big old computer game of his," John assured him, smirking deviously.
"Well, I hope you're right..."
They pulled into the gas station forecourt and got out of the car, not bothering to lock the doors as there was no one else around to steal it (again) anyway. Bobby began to fill up the tank and John wandered around a little, stretching his legs and surveying the mainly wooded land around them. Bobby reached into the back seat to get his wallet from bag and headed towards the shop.
"Hey, hey, hey!" John said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back slightly. "You're actually gonna pay?"
Bobby stared back at him as if he was insane, "No, I'm gonna go and buy the guy's mom some flowers. What do you think I'm gonna do?"
"We just get back in and go, man. It's dark, half the lights are out – they'd never be able to give a description of the car – let's just go."
"No way!" Bobby protested, casting a furtive look towards the guy at the register, who was sitting reading a paper, "John, we're going to be in enough trouble as it is, I'm not doing that too. No."
"Don't be so fucking prissy, Drake! What do you think we're gonna do when the money runs out? We gotta get away with as much as we can."
"You know what? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now I'm going to go in and pay. Do you want anything? A coke? Something to eat?" Bobby asked impatiently, comfortably aware that John's hand was still on his arm.
John scowled at him and the hand dropped, running almost down to his wrist, "Fine," he snapped, "but I'm coming in with you."
Ten minutes later they were back on the road. The guy at the register had barely grunted at them when they'd asked if there was some kind of motel nearby and not even looked up from his paper, so they had just gotten back in the car and decided to drive until it started getting light and then sleep it off in the vehicle. Some time around six am, they finally stopped, tucked away down a dirt track leading into some of the dense forestland lining the road.
"Do we have any blankets or anything?" John asked, eating one of the bars of chocolate he had stashed in his sweater in the gas station – much to Bobby's disapproval.
"I didn't bring any," Bobby said, thinking how much of an idiot that must make him, "so unless there's something in the trunk..."
John made an indistinct 'hm' sound, and leaned over to pick up Bobby's bag from the back seat. "So what did you bring, man?" he asked, unzipping the bag and delving in.
"Uh..." Bobby began, running his hand through his hair and blushing, "I was in a real hurry, actually, but I brought some of your stuff... just in case, y'know?"
"Cute."
"I just thought... y'know... everything you were wearing up at Alkali Lake – it was all mine, so..."
"D'you bring my leather jacket, man?" John asked, reaching the bottom of the bag and looking up at him hopefully.
"Yeah... uh..." he leaned over between the seats and felt around on the floor. "Got it – here," he said sitting up to hand it to him and finding himself at eye-level with John's mouth as he leaned back against the seat with his head turned to the left. There was a painful twist in his stomach and he took a deep breath, glancing up into the other boy's dark green eyes.
"Bobby," John said, his voice not sounding quite right as he took the garment from his hands, "I could just kiss you."
Bobby felt intensely compelled to suggest that he do that, but instead managed to croak, "Oh, that's me – good old Bobby, right?"
John stared at him strangely for a moment before muttering, "Yeah, I guess..."
"Y'know what? I'm gonna check the trunk – see what else we have – if anything," Bobby said quickly, almost falling out of the door in his hurry and leaving John to sigh heavily and slouch further down in his seat. He walked around to the back of the car, realising that he was breathing erratically and that it wasn't the air around him making his breath come out in icy gusts. This was weird. There was something about the way John was acting that was kinda off. It felt tense and he kept saying things that Bobby thought... well, tricks he would maybe have tried on Rogue if that was the kind of guy he was. He was pretty sure that the other boy was teasing him, but the fact that all his initial reactions were to go along with it unsettled him a hell of a lot. Yeah, he'd had the odd crush on a guy before, but this was John and John would most probably char-grill him if he actually took him up on it. Never mind the fact that he was seriously tempted to kiss his best friend.
He looked up and his eyes met with the other boy's as he watched him in the rear-view mirror; he felt his heart skip and wondered when the hell things had changed. Or if maybe they hadn't actually changed at all. John looked away from the mirror, and Bobby opened the trunk, effectively blocking his view into the car with the cover. Less Thelma and Louise than Bonnie and Clyde...So that was what he meant when he had said that. Bobby's mouth had a funny way of running off of its own accord, and this instance was really quite spectacular.
A brief search of the trunk supplied them with a thick travel rug. But there was only one, and sitting in the front of the car it didn't reach far enough to cover them both, so with some trepidation, Bobby suggested that they sit in the back, where it wasn't necessary to have a 12" gap between them. John gave him another strange look that made him want to ask what the hell the problem was because if he had something to say he'd rather John just said it instead of screwing him around; and then he nodded and climbed over the seat.
Bobby followed, tossing him the rug and accidentally treading on his fingers as he stepped over. The resulting scuffle as John's fingers were wrenched away and Bobby lost his balance ended with Bobby stuck half between the two seats, one leg with a shoelace wrapped around the handbrake and the rest of him more or less in John's lap. It was one of the few times when Bobby's face was actually particularly warm. The fact that the other boy was looking anywhere but down at him with cheeks like beetroot and his lighter-hand pressed to his forehead was what alerted him to the fact that his left hand had come close to making the whole thing even more painfully embarrassing. Or, painful for John, embarrassing as hell for Bobby.
"Oops," he offered feebly, and hastily untangled his shoelace before climbing onto the seat beside him. John dumped the blanket unceremoniously into his lap. Casting him a humiliated glance, Bobby unfolded the rug and handed him back one side. They each shifted around for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable, and descended into silence.
"You okay?" Bobby asked, when he'd finally managed to get over the worst of his mortification.
"Still kinda cold," John told him, shifting a little nearer. Bobby did the same, until they were sitting with their shoulders pressed together, each with his face inclined slightly towards the other.
"Better?"
"Kinda."
"Kinda? Well, what else is wrong?"
"Nothing," John said, turning to stare out of the window to darkness between the trees, where the light hadn't yet been able to reach.
"John?" Bobby ventured carefully, leaning forward to try and catch a look at the other boy's face. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, I said."
"Well, y'know, you really don't seem it," Bobby told him, pulling an arm out from under the blanket and rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. "And this whole thing... it's kinda weird, isn't it? You leave with Magneto and then you come back and then we leave and –"
"Just shut up about it, man," John snapped, turning to scowl at him over his shoulder.
Bobby pulled back a little, his own face almost mirroring the frown, "John, I just want to know what happened," he said a little impatiently, "because I've done this whole crazy Thelma and Louise thing and I don't know why, yet!"
"You said we were Bonnie and Clyde," John returned, looking very deliberately back at the window.
Bobby blinked and took a long and slightly painful breath; he hadn't had enough time to think about this and he knew that if he got this wrong he could truly fuck the whole thing up. But he had to do something, and he gently slipped a hand between John and the back of the seat, "We could be..."
After a few terrifyingly long moments, John lowered his head and turned to gaze at him uncertainly. "You know they were fucking, right?" he asked, almost managing to sound sarcastic.
Bobby blushed deep pink and nodded, a little too scared to catch his eye again. He could still feel the other boy staring at him, though, and felt obliged to at least raise his gaze a little, so as not to appear rude.
John raised his eyebrows questioningly, "You telling me you wanna - ?"
"No!" Bobby interrupted a little too loudly, but suddenly very sure that however John put it he would make it sound like something sordid and that he didn't think he'd be able to face him again after that.
"No," John echoed, moving away from him slightly, his voice sounding bitter, "That's what I figured."
"John – "
"Hey, don't act like it matters, Drake. You don't actually think I'd wanna screw you, do you?" he said giving him one of his most demeaning looks.
Bobby felt a lump forming in his throat, and turned to lean his forehead against the back of the driving seat, "I guess not..." he sighed, feeling a near-tsunami of disappointment wash over him. Maybe he had got it wrong, after all.
There was no response for several minutes. They sat facing in different directions, the whole subject sitting between them like a nasty little demon, poking them with sharp sticks and laughing at their discomfort. Bobby was not enjoying himself. He couldn't even really remember what had possessed him to steal the car in the first place, how he could have thought that John could mean anything by kissing him, spending a couple of hours touching up his leg and – and saying things like 'I could just kiss you' or what he was even playing at, throwing tantrums like this when Bobby had only ever been trying to help him out! Asshole.
Bobby let his thoughts run away with themselves until John's irritable voice snapped, "Cut it out, man! It's freezing in here!"
He realised suddenly that he hadn't been paying enough attention and had accidentally frosted all the windows over. John's lips were starting to look a strange, purple-y blue, and he had begun to click with his lighter in an attempt to get a flame going with cold, stiff fingers that weren't complying. "Oh shit, I'm sorry man – I didn't mean to!" Bobby took the lighter from the other boy's hands and lit it for him, so he could swell it to the size of a basketball and warm himself a little. Bobby barely noticed the cold himself.
"What're you so mad about, Iceman?" John asked when his teeth had stopped chattering. "One minute you're going on about Bonnie and Clyde and the next you turn the damn car into a fucking refrigerator!"
"What am I so mad about?" Bobby echoed in disbelief, "You're the one who got in a bad mood and won't talk about it!"
"I did not."
"You did!"
"I don't get why you're here, Bobby," John told him coldly, "I don't get why you'd leave your cosy little life at the institute and come do this with me."
"Because it is you, you jerk!" Bobby exclaimed, wanting to slap the stupid idiot around the head. "I told you this – I missed you, John!"
"Yeah, whatever..." John muttered, shaking his head and turning away from him again.
"'Whatever' nothing! I'm telling you that was the reason, okay? I missed you, school wasn't the same without you and I just wanted to be sure you were alright..." Bobby reached out to put his hand back on John's shoulder and looked at the way the golden flickering of the small ball of flames – now reduced to the size of a grapefruit – illuminated his face in the half-light and wondered why he had taken so long to notice – really notice – how attractive his best friend was. Not that it really mattered after what John had said, though.
"I missed you, too – but since way back when some girl turned up at the school and you started spending all your time with her," John replied coldly, but didn't shake off his hand, as Bobby had been expecting.
"Hey, that isn't fair, I still spent time with you."
"Yeah, right..."
"Oh for God's sake, John – who did I choose in the end? I chose you, didn't I? I left her at the institute and came after you – doesn't that tell you something?"
John took a slow, deep breath and closed his eyes.
"John...?" he said, swallowing with difficulty, "Look, if you want..." he paused, not wanting to say what he was about to, in case the other boy agreed to it, "If you want, you can leave me somewhere... if you don't want me around, then..."
"Don't be such a fucking moron, Drake! I came back for you didn't I?" John said, sounding partly annoyed, partly panicked. He turned around to face him, "You having second thoughts man, is that was this is?"
"No! No, of course I'm not!" Bobby assured him, staring into his eyes as honestly as he could, barely even realising that his fingers had inched their way from John's shoulder to the side of his neck. He felt the muscles move as the other boy cleared his throat and a slightly uneven breath on his face as he exhaled.
"Good," John murmured, nodding almost imperceptibly and pushing his hair out of his face.
"Good," Bobby echoed, allowing him a small smile and unable to think of anything but how much he really wanted to kiss him, his hand almost starting to tingle as he realised that he was actually touching John's neck – bare hand on bare skin – and no one was about to die. So much for it not mattering...
He was brought back to himself when the other boy's eyebrows furrowed into a slight grimace and he half-whispered, half-squeaked, "Jesus..." before reaching out and, cradling Bobby's face in his hands, pressing their lips together desperately. He tried to pull away after the briefest moment, but Bobby refused to allow it, sliding his hand to the back of John's neck and holding on just firmly enough that he could pull away if he really wanted to.
It was like no kiss Bobby had ever experienced before; sure, the same could be said of the time he'd kissed Rogue, but somehow this felt different in a completely different way. There was a different kind of urgency to it, a different feeling in the pit of his stomach and infinitely more chance of stubble rash. Not that he cared. All that he cared about was that suddenly everything seemed to make a whole lot more sense, and that John wasn't pulling away in horrified realisation of what they were doing.
When they were finally forced to pull away in order to breathe, the small gasps of air drawn in during the kiss far from enough to sustain them, each tried to move in closer, hands drifting around attempting to find the best places to grip, legs tangling awkwardly, so that they were both almost sitting in each other's lap. Bobby found himself nuzzling into the side of John's neck and trapped in a bear-hug that was almost preventing him from breathing at all, the other boy's face pressed into is shoulder in a way that couldn't have been remotely comfortable.
"Well," Bobby said, through an almost-sigh that degenerated into a giggle, "I thought you didn't want to-"
"I lied," John told him immediately, raising his head to stare into his face almost challengingly, as if daring him to say that he didn't want that sort of relationship.
"Good," Bobby grinned, kissing him again. "Can I ask you something?" he said after a moment.
"Yeah, but I'm not gonna promise that I'll answer."
Bobby gave him another flicker of a smile, and asked, "How long have you, um...?"
"What? Been into you?" John offered, apparently trying to sound calm and comfortable, but still sounding more than a little awkward.
"Yeah..."
"I dunno..."
"Don't you have any idea? I mean, has it been long or just a recent thing... what?"
"A while," John admitted, and Bobby heard the sharp ting his lighter made when the lid wasn't quite opened properly.
"No, leave that thing alone for a while, will you? Can't we just talk about this without you playing with it?" Bobby asked, closing his hand over John's.
John looked at him as if he wanted to tell him to piss off, but silently pulled his hand away and slipped it into his pocket. To Bobby's pleasant surprise, he returned his empty hand to Bobby's and entwined their fingers.
"I was gonna say something," John explained, smirking with some kind of private joke, "but I missed my chance, 'cause by the time I had it figured out Rogue was around and suddenly it wasn't the right time any more."
"Really?" Bobby asked.
"Scout's honour," the other boy said flatly.
"You were never a scout..."
"Yeah, well..."
Bobby laughed at him and planted another kiss on his lips.
"But if you're interested, I remember thinking I kinda liked you sometime around last New Year," John added, "'Cause I hated Kitty for getting to kiss you at midnight."
"Oh God, tell me that wasn't why you burned her chem notes!"
John grimaced and clicked his teeth, "No can do."
"Damn, you really are such a bad-ass, St.John Allerdyce," Bobby teased drily.
"Call me that again, Robert Louise and I kick your ass."
"It's Louis you jerk!" Bobby argued, punching him in the shoulder.
"Whatever. Either way, you're my bitch."
"I am not!"
"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, man..."
By the time the Sun was fully raised and daylight spilled through the trees, it found them curled up along the back seat of the car, Bobby leaning back against John's chest and the other boy's arms wrapped around him possessively, his chin pressed against the top of his head. They'd talked about everything – from what to tell Bobby's parents to where to go and how much squirrels looked like humans, when one scampered onto the hood of the car and stared at them for a moment before running off – and now they were both drowsy, neither having slept all night.
"So, I guess we're heading South, then?" John concluded, yawning and trying to stretch without disturbing Bobby too much.
Bobby nodded against his chest and also yawned, settling back down when John had finished. "Best I can think of..."
"Mexico?" John suggested.
"I don't like spicy food too much, but why not?" Bobby shrugged.
"Then we'd better take a couple of hours and then get outta here, we're talking a fucking long way, man."
"S'okay," Bobby said through another yawn, linking his fingers with one of he hands across his chest, "We'll just keep going until they stop us..."
John looked down at him for a moment, and kissed the top of his head, wondering if Bobby even remembered how either of the films ended.
"We're going to have to stop for gas sometime soon," Bobby said, glancing over at the boy slumped beside him in the stolen car he was driving. "You wanna stop some place and get a room in a motel or something?"
John looked up at him with rounded eyes, his left hand still fiddling with the seam on the inside of Bobby's knee, and he smirked.
"Um... I mean – we can get a twin room, right? My parents just gave me my allowance last week, so..." Bobby elaborated, blushing. He had just hotwired a school vehicle, picked up a deviant fellow student who had gone AWOL with their principal's oldest friend and arch-nemesis and who had spent the entire past hour fiddling with his jeans and he was embarrassed about the implications of the phrase 'get a room'? He figured that he was really going to have to toughen up if he was going to see this through. Not that there was any sort of conclusion feasible, as far as he could tell. Just them and the road and either running out of money or places to run to.
John removed his hand and sat up, running his fingers through his hair, "Up to you, man. This was your idea."
Bobby tried to stare at him while keeping his eyes on the road, "My idea?"
"Who had the car when they nearly ran me down, huh?" John asked, pulling out his lighter and beginning to flick it open and closed. Bobby realised, suddenly, that the damn thing had been out of sight for as long as John had been fiddling with his jeans. Kiss on the cheek not withstanding, that probably explained the incessant fiddling. Not that Bobby had minded the fiddling. It made concentrating a little hard, sure, but... it was nice to have the contact. He cared about him, was sick with anxiety and insomnia when he left, and to know he was there without having to keep looking to check was comforting. He'd almost put an arm around him a few times, but after the brief period his own hand had spent on the other boy's thigh he thought he could be pushing things a little far like that.
"You came back, though," Bobby replied, frowning a little. Now he really thought about it, it didn't make sense for John to have returned only to run away again. "Why did you come back, John?"
John slouched down again and put one foot on the dash, "I told you. Every Thelma needs a Louise, man."
Bobby reached out and gently pushed the foot back down, "It's not our car," he said apologetically.
"You just ripped out the wiring and stole it, dumbass, I don't think they're gonna care about foot marks."
Bobby sighed, "I guess..." glancing at the sneakered feet, which were now back on the dash. They were wrapped in a pair of new-looking All Stars (black, naturally), and he wondered where they came from. Either Magneto or a five-finger discount, that much was obvious. For a few minutes they rode in silence, before he tried to ask his question again.
"Why did you come back, Johnny?" he asked, as a friend – a concerned friend – not someone who was going to judge him negatively whatever answer he gave.
"Why're you so bothered, Drake?" John asked, rolling his head over against the headrest to look at him, "I'm not here to take you to Magneto."
"I know that! I just..."
"Missed me?" John joked, giving a short laugh and looking back to his lighter. It clicked open, the flint scraped round, and it snapped shut.
Bobby nodded, then realised that John wasn't looking. "Uh... yeah," he said, his mouth feeling oddly dry, and he wished that he'd taken more time packing for the journey and brought refreshments. "Yeah, I did."
The lighter clicked open, but no flint scraped and it did not snap shut.
"You for real?" John asked, staring at the lighter, but not fiddling with it any longer.
Bobby nodded again and felt like an idiot because John was clearly still not looking. "Of course I'm for real. D'you really think I'd joke about that? You're my best friend, John – I was going out of my mind!"
John said nothing for a few moments, then asked, "What about Rogue? You gonna miss her?"
"She's... well, I guess it's kinda late now, but she's supposed to be my girlfriend. I'll miss her, but I know that Logan's there to take care of her. I think she'll be happy with that."
For someone who didn't like awkward silences, John was pretty good at them.
They drove for a long time without speaking again, the only sound coming from the click-whirr-snap of the lighter in John's hand, until they saw a sign for a gas station not too far ahead.
"We gotta stop," Bobby sighed, "I hope we haven't been reported yet..."
"Out here? These guys are practically hicks, they won't know a thing."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. And besides, Xavier ain't going to screw around with getting the cops involved – he'll just get onto that big old computer game of his," John assured him, smirking deviously.
"Well, I hope you're right..."
They pulled into the gas station forecourt and got out of the car, not bothering to lock the doors as there was no one else around to steal it (again) anyway. Bobby began to fill up the tank and John wandered around a little, stretching his legs and surveying the mainly wooded land around them. Bobby reached into the back seat to get his wallet from bag and headed towards the shop.
"Hey, hey, hey!" John said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back slightly. "You're actually gonna pay?"
Bobby stared back at him as if he was insane, "No, I'm gonna go and buy the guy's mom some flowers. What do you think I'm gonna do?"
"We just get back in and go, man. It's dark, half the lights are out – they'd never be able to give a description of the car – let's just go."
"No way!" Bobby protested, casting a furtive look towards the guy at the register, who was sitting reading a paper, "John, we're going to be in enough trouble as it is, I'm not doing that too. No."
"Don't be so fucking prissy, Drake! What do you think we're gonna do when the money runs out? We gotta get away with as much as we can."
"You know what? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now I'm going to go in and pay. Do you want anything? A coke? Something to eat?" Bobby asked impatiently, comfortably aware that John's hand was still on his arm.
John scowled at him and the hand dropped, running almost down to his wrist, "Fine," he snapped, "but I'm coming in with you."
Ten minutes later they were back on the road. The guy at the register had barely grunted at them when they'd asked if there was some kind of motel nearby and not even looked up from his paper, so they had just gotten back in the car and decided to drive until it started getting light and then sleep it off in the vehicle. Some time around six am, they finally stopped, tucked away down a dirt track leading into some of the dense forestland lining the road.
"Do we have any blankets or anything?" John asked, eating one of the bars of chocolate he had stashed in his sweater in the gas station – much to Bobby's disapproval.
"I didn't bring any," Bobby said, thinking how much of an idiot that must make him, "so unless there's something in the trunk..."
John made an indistinct 'hm' sound, and leaned over to pick up Bobby's bag from the back seat. "So what did you bring, man?" he asked, unzipping the bag and delving in.
"Uh..." Bobby began, running his hand through his hair and blushing, "I was in a real hurry, actually, but I brought some of your stuff... just in case, y'know?"
"Cute."
"I just thought... y'know... everything you were wearing up at Alkali Lake – it was all mine, so..."
"D'you bring my leather jacket, man?" John asked, reaching the bottom of the bag and looking up at him hopefully.
"Yeah... uh..." he leaned over between the seats and felt around on the floor. "Got it – here," he said sitting up to hand it to him and finding himself at eye-level with John's mouth as he leaned back against the seat with his head turned to the left. There was a painful twist in his stomach and he took a deep breath, glancing up into the other boy's dark green eyes.
"Bobby," John said, his voice not sounding quite right as he took the garment from his hands, "I could just kiss you."
Bobby felt intensely compelled to suggest that he do that, but instead managed to croak, "Oh, that's me – good old Bobby, right?"
John stared at him strangely for a moment before muttering, "Yeah, I guess..."
"Y'know what? I'm gonna check the trunk – see what else we have – if anything," Bobby said quickly, almost falling out of the door in his hurry and leaving John to sigh heavily and slouch further down in his seat. He walked around to the back of the car, realising that he was breathing erratically and that it wasn't the air around him making his breath come out in icy gusts. This was weird. There was something about the way John was acting that was kinda off. It felt tense and he kept saying things that Bobby thought... well, tricks he would maybe have tried on Rogue if that was the kind of guy he was. He was pretty sure that the other boy was teasing him, but the fact that all his initial reactions were to go along with it unsettled him a hell of a lot. Yeah, he'd had the odd crush on a guy before, but this was John and John would most probably char-grill him if he actually took him up on it. Never mind the fact that he was seriously tempted to kiss his best friend.
He looked up and his eyes met with the other boy's as he watched him in the rear-view mirror; he felt his heart skip and wondered when the hell things had changed. Or if maybe they hadn't actually changed at all. John looked away from the mirror, and Bobby opened the trunk, effectively blocking his view into the car with the cover. Less Thelma and Louise than Bonnie and Clyde...So that was what he meant when he had said that. Bobby's mouth had a funny way of running off of its own accord, and this instance was really quite spectacular.
A brief search of the trunk supplied them with a thick travel rug. But there was only one, and sitting in the front of the car it didn't reach far enough to cover them both, so with some trepidation, Bobby suggested that they sit in the back, where it wasn't necessary to have a 12" gap between them. John gave him another strange look that made him want to ask what the hell the problem was because if he had something to say he'd rather John just said it instead of screwing him around; and then he nodded and climbed over the seat.
Bobby followed, tossing him the rug and accidentally treading on his fingers as he stepped over. The resulting scuffle as John's fingers were wrenched away and Bobby lost his balance ended with Bobby stuck half between the two seats, one leg with a shoelace wrapped around the handbrake and the rest of him more or less in John's lap. It was one of the few times when Bobby's face was actually particularly warm. The fact that the other boy was looking anywhere but down at him with cheeks like beetroot and his lighter-hand pressed to his forehead was what alerted him to the fact that his left hand had come close to making the whole thing even more painfully embarrassing. Or, painful for John, embarrassing as hell for Bobby.
"Oops," he offered feebly, and hastily untangled his shoelace before climbing onto the seat beside him. John dumped the blanket unceremoniously into his lap. Casting him a humiliated glance, Bobby unfolded the rug and handed him back one side. They each shifted around for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable, and descended into silence.
"You okay?" Bobby asked, when he'd finally managed to get over the worst of his mortification.
"Still kinda cold," John told him, shifting a little nearer. Bobby did the same, until they were sitting with their shoulders pressed together, each with his face inclined slightly towards the other.
"Better?"
"Kinda."
"Kinda? Well, what else is wrong?"
"Nothing," John said, turning to stare out of the window to darkness between the trees, where the light hadn't yet been able to reach.
"John?" Bobby ventured carefully, leaning forward to try and catch a look at the other boy's face. "You okay?"
"I'm fine, I said."
"Well, y'know, you really don't seem it," Bobby told him, pulling an arm out from under the blanket and rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. "And this whole thing... it's kinda weird, isn't it? You leave with Magneto and then you come back and then we leave and –"
"Just shut up about it, man," John snapped, turning to scowl at him over his shoulder.
Bobby pulled back a little, his own face almost mirroring the frown, "John, I just want to know what happened," he said a little impatiently, "because I've done this whole crazy Thelma and Louise thing and I don't know why, yet!"
"You said we were Bonnie and Clyde," John returned, looking very deliberately back at the window.
Bobby blinked and took a long and slightly painful breath; he hadn't had enough time to think about this and he knew that if he got this wrong he could truly fuck the whole thing up. But he had to do something, and he gently slipped a hand between John and the back of the seat, "We could be..."
After a few terrifyingly long moments, John lowered his head and turned to gaze at him uncertainly. "You know they were fucking, right?" he asked, almost managing to sound sarcastic.
Bobby blushed deep pink and nodded, a little too scared to catch his eye again. He could still feel the other boy staring at him, though, and felt obliged to at least raise his gaze a little, so as not to appear rude.
John raised his eyebrows questioningly, "You telling me you wanna - ?"
"No!" Bobby interrupted a little too loudly, but suddenly very sure that however John put it he would make it sound like something sordid and that he didn't think he'd be able to face him again after that.
"No," John echoed, moving away from him slightly, his voice sounding bitter, "That's what I figured."
"John – "
"Hey, don't act like it matters, Drake. You don't actually think I'd wanna screw you, do you?" he said giving him one of his most demeaning looks.
Bobby felt a lump forming in his throat, and turned to lean his forehead against the back of the driving seat, "I guess not..." he sighed, feeling a near-tsunami of disappointment wash over him. Maybe he had got it wrong, after all.
There was no response for several minutes. They sat facing in different directions, the whole subject sitting between them like a nasty little demon, poking them with sharp sticks and laughing at their discomfort. Bobby was not enjoying himself. He couldn't even really remember what had possessed him to steal the car in the first place, how he could have thought that John could mean anything by kissing him, spending a couple of hours touching up his leg and – and saying things like 'I could just kiss you' or what he was even playing at, throwing tantrums like this when Bobby had only ever been trying to help him out! Asshole.
Bobby let his thoughts run away with themselves until John's irritable voice snapped, "Cut it out, man! It's freezing in here!"
He realised suddenly that he hadn't been paying enough attention and had accidentally frosted all the windows over. John's lips were starting to look a strange, purple-y blue, and he had begun to click with his lighter in an attempt to get a flame going with cold, stiff fingers that weren't complying. "Oh shit, I'm sorry man – I didn't mean to!" Bobby took the lighter from the other boy's hands and lit it for him, so he could swell it to the size of a basketball and warm himself a little. Bobby barely noticed the cold himself.
"What're you so mad about, Iceman?" John asked when his teeth had stopped chattering. "One minute you're going on about Bonnie and Clyde and the next you turn the damn car into a fucking refrigerator!"
"What am I so mad about?" Bobby echoed in disbelief, "You're the one who got in a bad mood and won't talk about it!"
"I did not."
"You did!"
"I don't get why you're here, Bobby," John told him coldly, "I don't get why you'd leave your cosy little life at the institute and come do this with me."
"Because it is you, you jerk!" Bobby exclaimed, wanting to slap the stupid idiot around the head. "I told you this – I missed you, John!"
"Yeah, whatever..." John muttered, shaking his head and turning away from him again.
"'Whatever' nothing! I'm telling you that was the reason, okay? I missed you, school wasn't the same without you and I just wanted to be sure you were alright..." Bobby reached out to put his hand back on John's shoulder and looked at the way the golden flickering of the small ball of flames – now reduced to the size of a grapefruit – illuminated his face in the half-light and wondered why he had taken so long to notice – really notice – how attractive his best friend was. Not that it really mattered after what John had said, though.
"I missed you, too – but since way back when some girl turned up at the school and you started spending all your time with her," John replied coldly, but didn't shake off his hand, as Bobby had been expecting.
"Hey, that isn't fair, I still spent time with you."
"Yeah, right..."
"Oh for God's sake, John – who did I choose in the end? I chose you, didn't I? I left her at the institute and came after you – doesn't that tell you something?"
John took a slow, deep breath and closed his eyes.
"John...?" he said, swallowing with difficulty, "Look, if you want..." he paused, not wanting to say what he was about to, in case the other boy agreed to it, "If you want, you can leave me somewhere... if you don't want me around, then..."
"Don't be such a fucking moron, Drake! I came back for you didn't I?" John said, sounding partly annoyed, partly panicked. He turned around to face him, "You having second thoughts man, is that was this is?"
"No! No, of course I'm not!" Bobby assured him, staring into his eyes as honestly as he could, barely even realising that his fingers had inched their way from John's shoulder to the side of his neck. He felt the muscles move as the other boy cleared his throat and a slightly uneven breath on his face as he exhaled.
"Good," John murmured, nodding almost imperceptibly and pushing his hair out of his face.
"Good," Bobby echoed, allowing him a small smile and unable to think of anything but how much he really wanted to kiss him, his hand almost starting to tingle as he realised that he was actually touching John's neck – bare hand on bare skin – and no one was about to die. So much for it not mattering...
He was brought back to himself when the other boy's eyebrows furrowed into a slight grimace and he half-whispered, half-squeaked, "Jesus..." before reaching out and, cradling Bobby's face in his hands, pressing their lips together desperately. He tried to pull away after the briefest moment, but Bobby refused to allow it, sliding his hand to the back of John's neck and holding on just firmly enough that he could pull away if he really wanted to.
It was like no kiss Bobby had ever experienced before; sure, the same could be said of the time he'd kissed Rogue, but somehow this felt different in a completely different way. There was a different kind of urgency to it, a different feeling in the pit of his stomach and infinitely more chance of stubble rash. Not that he cared. All that he cared about was that suddenly everything seemed to make a whole lot more sense, and that John wasn't pulling away in horrified realisation of what they were doing.
When they were finally forced to pull away in order to breathe, the small gasps of air drawn in during the kiss far from enough to sustain them, each tried to move in closer, hands drifting around attempting to find the best places to grip, legs tangling awkwardly, so that they were both almost sitting in each other's lap. Bobby found himself nuzzling into the side of John's neck and trapped in a bear-hug that was almost preventing him from breathing at all, the other boy's face pressed into is shoulder in a way that couldn't have been remotely comfortable.
"Well," Bobby said, through an almost-sigh that degenerated into a giggle, "I thought you didn't want to-"
"I lied," John told him immediately, raising his head to stare into his face almost challengingly, as if daring him to say that he didn't want that sort of relationship.
"Good," Bobby grinned, kissing him again. "Can I ask you something?" he said after a moment.
"Yeah, but I'm not gonna promise that I'll answer."
Bobby gave him another flicker of a smile, and asked, "How long have you, um...?"
"What? Been into you?" John offered, apparently trying to sound calm and comfortable, but still sounding more than a little awkward.
"Yeah..."
"I dunno..."
"Don't you have any idea? I mean, has it been long or just a recent thing... what?"
"A while," John admitted, and Bobby heard the sharp ting his lighter made when the lid wasn't quite opened properly.
"No, leave that thing alone for a while, will you? Can't we just talk about this without you playing with it?" Bobby asked, closing his hand over John's.
John looked at him as if he wanted to tell him to piss off, but silently pulled his hand away and slipped it into his pocket. To Bobby's pleasant surprise, he returned his empty hand to Bobby's and entwined their fingers.
"I was gonna say something," John explained, smirking with some kind of private joke, "but I missed my chance, 'cause by the time I had it figured out Rogue was around and suddenly it wasn't the right time any more."
"Really?" Bobby asked.
"Scout's honour," the other boy said flatly.
"You were never a scout..."
"Yeah, well..."
Bobby laughed at him and planted another kiss on his lips.
"But if you're interested, I remember thinking I kinda liked you sometime around last New Year," John added, "'Cause I hated Kitty for getting to kiss you at midnight."
"Oh God, tell me that wasn't why you burned her chem notes!"
John grimaced and clicked his teeth, "No can do."
"Damn, you really are such a bad-ass, St.John Allerdyce," Bobby teased drily.
"Call me that again, Robert Louise and I kick your ass."
"It's Louis you jerk!" Bobby argued, punching him in the shoulder.
"Whatever. Either way, you're my bitch."
"I am not!"
"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, man..."
By the time the Sun was fully raised and daylight spilled through the trees, it found them curled up along the back seat of the car, Bobby leaning back against John's chest and the other boy's arms wrapped around him possessively, his chin pressed against the top of his head. They'd talked about everything – from what to tell Bobby's parents to where to go and how much squirrels looked like humans, when one scampered onto the hood of the car and stared at them for a moment before running off – and now they were both drowsy, neither having slept all night.
"So, I guess we're heading South, then?" John concluded, yawning and trying to stretch without disturbing Bobby too much.
Bobby nodded against his chest and also yawned, settling back down when John had finished. "Best I can think of..."
"Mexico?" John suggested.
"I don't like spicy food too much, but why not?" Bobby shrugged.
"Then we'd better take a couple of hours and then get outta here, we're talking a fucking long way, man."
"S'okay," Bobby said through another yawn, linking his fingers with one of he hands across his chest, "We'll just keep going until they stop us..."
John looked down at him for a moment, and kissed the top of his head, wondering if Bobby even remembered how either of the films ended.
