Flambéed Ice
'I'm not frigid, it's just my mutation!'
Staring at the bumper sticker in his hands, Bobby gasped. Then he glared.
St. John shook his head. "Oh, man. First me, now you. What is it, 'Pick on the Gay Guy's Sex Life' Week?"
"I think it's pretty much a mutant free-for-all," Jubilee put in from the open doorway, before disappearing with a pop of her ever-present gum.
Blinking after her, Bobby shook his head and closed the door, tossing the hand-lettered bumper sticker on the bed. "This is getting out of hand."
"I thought you were the one who liked a good practical joke," St. John pointed.
"Not when it's aimed at me!" Bobby exclaimed.
Hiding a smile, St. John said, "Well, be that as it may, you've been hit now. What are you gonna do?"
"Prank someone else," was the immediate answer.
St. John nodded and offered an alternative. "You know, instead of just getting whoever sent you that back…you could get even."
"Even?" Bobby asked, wrinkling his nose.
Finally unleashing his smile from its self-imposed restraints, St. John stalked towards his boyfriend. "Prove them wrong about you being frigid."
"About how would you prove that?" Bobby asked mirthfully. "You want to go have sex on the front lawn?"
"Actually, I was thinking I'd…heat you up…just right to get you to scream," St. John said blithely.
"That sounds rather…hot…Johnny," Bobby returned innocently as he unbuttoned his shirt. "But I am kinda cold…"
"I'll warm you up," St. John purred.
And then he pounced.
Hearing the impassioned screams from the boy's dorm, Kitty sighed. She should have known that Bobby 'Prankster Extraordinaire' Drake would get revved up over an insult chain.