Blue: Chapter 2 Without Strings.
Pietro was perched, cross-legged, at the end of the bed that he and Lance shared. It was pitch black but for the small beams of moonlight that ventured in out of curiosity. Really there should have been at least one beady strip of yellow lamplight, but no workmen saw any profit in repairing anything in their area, which was to the speedy teen's benefit anyway. He had never been fond of the demonic illumination it provided and right now it would have ruined the moment that his lover's ponderous expression turned to the goofy smile that was so seldom seen in daylight.
The slender boy slid from his spot to kneel beside the bed, sprawling his upper body on it and finding a better view of Lance. He had seen this dream before, never asking what it was but only waiting 'til it was over so that his partner would wake and see the impish grin he wore.
Eyes batted open, but the smile did not fade.
"Every time Pietro," he smiled, turning onto his side to view his boyfriend, "I don't think there's been an occasion since I've been with you when I've woken up and you haven't been waiting."
"Your always so interesting when you sleep," remarked the younger counterpart lifting the covers to get into the bed. Lance noticed how warm Pietro's skin was despite wearing only a pair of boxers and welcomed the boy into his arms, kissing his neck lightly while he got comfortable. When all was settled and the blanket was distributed to prevent a draught, the elder of the two wrapped one arm around the lean figure before him and closed his eyes to appreciated the familiar closeness that was provided as the body sighed and relaxed against him.
"Lance? "Pietro asked after a short time.
"Mm...?"
"What were you dreaming about?"
"You haven't asked that before.... Why now?" he returned without opening his eyes.
"Dunno... Am I in them?" The albino turned beneath the covers to face Lance, sending the bed into disarray. His pale blue eyes caught the moonlight enough for the tanned boy to see the smirk in them.
"Yeah actually."
"What do you dream about?"
"Snow... and sand.... And you," he said sleepily.
"That's just a memory, it's not a dream."
"A perfect memory. So I don't see the difference."
Sentiments of this verity were neither common nor scarce; they both spouted it from time to time just to say ' I lower my guard for you...'
Lance pulled the other teen forward, allowing him to nestle his head beneath his chin as they both were swept away in sleep.
.............................
Within two or three hours, Lance felt the bed shift and out of instinct he wrapped his arms around the escaping body.
"Mine."
A light tired voice chuckled and its owner was pulled back down to the bed.
"You weren't supposed to be awake."
"Well what if I woke up and you weren't there for once. I could go insane within three seconds thinking that you had left me."
"You know I wouldn't leave you."
"Promise?" he asked in childish, sleepy babble.
"Yu-huh. Now lemme go, I'm going to my room to pick up another pillow, my backs sore."
With that he was reluctantly released and made his way out of bed at a 'normal' speed as he preserved his energy for the morning ritual or readying himself within three seconds for school.
There was a breeze of cool air as he left the room and crossed the hall. He hated being cold, but if it was the forfeit for not having to smell 'Au de Sweaty Fred' throughout the house then he was perfectly prepare to pay it. He almost froze as he got into his own room. He had taken up his pillow before he dared to look round and notice that the long windows of his bedroom were open and copious amounts if chilled air were filling the room. Propping the soft object beneath his arm, he reached for the handle on the frame of the glass before feeling a presence and noting that the curtains were not the only material ruffling in the wind.
Crimson material lined with purple billowed, visible only to the corner of his eye. Looking up he could see a tall figure with yellow demonic eyes shining out from under a helmet, the eyes were uncovered as the protection was removed and two blue eyes reflected his own.
"Have you abandoned your room permanently?" a sinister voice questioned.
"I'm just..." Pietro hadn't considered that his father might just appear from nowhere in the middle of the night. Of course it seemed obvious now as that seemed to be Magneto's forte.
"Answer me Pietro. Are you sleeping here or are you not?" The voice was darker this time – he knew, or at least had some inkling of what his son was doing.
Before some defending answer could come from his lips, the silver-haired boy felt a cruel burning sensation in every vein in his body and only a choked cry could be heard.
"Can you feel in your blood boil? I have."
He couldn't breathe now. The pain had drawn out all the air from him and trickles of red were seeping from his neck where his skin could not contain the heating liquid.
"Every particle of iron in your bloodstream belongs to me. I can control each one of them. It is my blood Pietro." The dark figure then threw his son again the wall as he attempted to writhe or gain some control over himself.
He couldn't feel anything but the building pain in his body, the heat, and the fact that he was reduced to nothing more than a tortured puppet. Throwing his head back he choked and gasped for breath, tears blazing trails down his cheeks. He could try to call Lance, warn him, but that would only confirm his father's suspicions.
"Call on him," he dared, "call him to save you if you truly believe he is not simply toying with you, enjoying you – you with my blood."
"I love him."
It became evident that keeping such a control on so many particles separately was straining the elder man as he held one hand to his temple and began to loose focus. Pietro had started to feel his body loosen and his blood cool slightly.
The house shook on its foundations. Lance had come too late.
The pale figure slid to the floor as Magneto released him fully to throw the filled metal bin at the tall boy. The youth guarded himself with one arm but saw no one when he turned to direct his attack.
Magneto knew when his powers were spent and had fled.
There was silence for a moment but for the soft gasping coming from Pietro.
"Pie...?" The tall boy appeared at Pietro's side.
"I let him get me," his companion spluttered – not moving his body but bringing up the blood trapped in his throat. It seeped out of his mouth and down his neck to meet with the liquid that was already there in a small pool.
"I don't think there's much you coulda done," Lance remarked soothingly.
Pietro finally moved his head to look at his partner, touching the blood on his lips and looking slightly shocked at the result. Before he could protest he was hoisted up into the arms of the brown-haired youth who had also taken his pillow.
On the journey back to their room Pietro buried his head in Lances chest.
"If it'd gone one more... He'd have killed me..."
"I don't think he has control of it yet," he said, then with a smirk added, "such a hypocrite after all the lectures he gave us about 'testing' powers..." Pietro looked up at his boyfriend as they entered their room.
"Why are you smiling about Alvers?"
If that boy found his state of vulnerability funny in the slightest he would be instantly dumped... or at least he wouldn't get any for quite some time – being helpless was hard...
"You said you loved me."
"So? I tell you that all the time."
"Yeah, but you told Magneto..." Pietro chuckled weakly.
"Well he was gunna kill me anyway, figured that'd make it quicker." He quirked an eyebrow to show he was kidding.
They reached the bed and Lance sat down, dropped the pillow, swiveling his legs into position and turning the albino boy, whom he hadn't let go of, so that he was straddling his lap.
"Pietro," his voice turned serious, "I don't want you to have Magneto playing creepy stalkers and trying to maim you...." The boy sitting on him restrained a smirk – sweet as Lance was, he had never been eloquent.
"D'you think we should – um – "
"You're an idiot," Pietro remarked after the minute it took him to realize what was being implied, "unless you don't think this is worth it." His smile was dwindling – but there.
"I woulda had some trouble letting you go," Lance sighed in relief.
Noticing the small puddle of blood on the white neck before him, the tanned boy began to plant butterfly kisses on his friend's throat and gentle cleared away the blood.
"So what, you're a vampire now?"
Lance stopped immediately and put his forehead against his lover's shoulder – defeated.
"So much for cheering you up."
"No. M'sorry... Please don't stop, I'm just..."
"Freaked? Yeah, s'okay," he granted before setting back to his task, "you're still mine..." he sighed between kisses moving slowly toward the satin lips he had cherish.
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Todd hopped into his teammates' room at around 8 o'clock to wake Lance, as he seemed to have to do a lot now. The sheets were ruffled bodies were tangled and the noises he heard last night were seemingly explained.
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This story's timeline jumps forward nearly constantly; nothing seems to be going to days in a row. If you don't like this method please tell me when you review and I'll make some kinda chapter for the day after this one. Originally the next chapter would involve the beginning of the end and the one after that would be the last chappy, so I dunno if you want it as it is or with more substance that makes it longer and more involved.
I wont write any more 'til I get word from you.
Love Crimson
P.S, Biro man hates me for stumping this story's growth. That's right, the muse is flowing with ideas and is now in a huff!
Additional!
Zee. My treasure. This is dedicated to you!
This story is written out of shock that the coveted slash fic seems to be dwindling and you totally leveled with me on that! I'm so glad that you at least are enjoying it and Biro man thanks you muchly. I wasn't going to post this till I felt validated that enough people were liking it but your review made me smile so much that I don't care about ratings. Thank you so much. Eats cookie and pets pet penguin