from notfromarizona on tumblr: Who cares what characters I just want to read it: A walk in the forest when the moon is really bright (no unnatural sources of light), the line "Do penguins cry?", a reference to the live action Scooby-Doo movie, club-hopping (but only because of morbid curiosity), an argument whether or not black lives matter, one of the boys gets a nosebleed, sickeningly cute babying of the 'top', ends with them in bed (smut or no smut idc), someone breaks a fingernail and we all have to endure them complaining
You'll find random spots where (number) happens. That was me making a check list of each requirement. If I missed on, let me know.
It wasn't easy to find a place out in the country where no lights reached the sky. Light polution was everywhere in this time, creeping at the edges of the sky in hues of oranges and purples, blotting out the stars and dimming the moon. By the time Warren found a suitable place, Bobby's armpits had begun to ache from being held up in the air for so long. They lay in a field somewhere in Pennsylvania, the only sound being crickets and a river they had passed a few miles back itching in their minds.
Warren took a few moments to find a comfortable way to lay on his back so he could look up at the stars before he gestured Bobby to come over. Bobby curled up in the nook of his arm, the soft tickle of feathers on his neck. "This okay," he whispered, not wanting to ruin the quiet air with his voice. Warren hummed in approval, tugging Bobby a little closer. He radiated a type of warmth that Bobby's body no longer gave off. Bobby looked up at the sky, finding awe in how large the moon was tonight, it's silver light radiating out and reaching their own bodies, casting them in silver. It was so bright, like a brand new coin. They lay like that in the silence for a while, content in the presence of each other.
"Do penguins cry?" (1)
Warren shifted, turning to look at Bobby who glanced up as if he didn't understand the sudden movement. "What?" Warren's voice barely concealed a laugh.
"Do penguins cry," Bobby repeated, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You can never just let things be romantic, can you? Ask Hank when we get back, I'm sure he knows."
"Hocus pocus alakazam, save us from that evil man, with hairy legs and heavy feet, he cracks up, baby, as he creeks (2)," Bobby sang, the smile growing as he pulled himself up onto Warren's chest, fingers tracing the lines of his body.
"Huh?" Bobby could feel Warren twitch and shiver under his touch.
"Oh, um... It's a song. I was watching a movie the other day and I heard that song, Man With the Hex, on it. Made me think of Hank. You know, 'cause he's hairy and... has big feet."
Warren laughed, tugging Bobby down for a kiss. "Let's go to New York. I hear they have mutant clubs, where it's just packed with mutants."
Bobby grinned, heart fluttering. "Yeah!"
Warren stood, tugging Bobby against his chest before pushing off of the ground hard, wings propelling them up into the air. They flew to New York, the bright lights dazzling them from below. Bobby pulled out his phone and read the GPS aloud to Warren, who flew them where they needed to go. They touched down, flashing the fake ID's Hank had made them so they could get into restricted areas. It displayed whatever they needed them to. Bobby didn't think that Hank had clubbing in mind when he created them, but they worked like a charm and Bobby and Warren were ushered in.
The mass of people was crazy. Bobby marvelled at the amount of mutants that had started popping up ever since they arrived; he was even more amazed by the fact that there were whole clubs dedicated to mutants. Warren and him danced for hours, hopping from one club to another (3), drinking, getting drunk, grinding on the dance floor. At one point, they were sitting at the bar, laughing with each other when they heard an angry shout from someone not too far from them.
Bobby turned to look, seeing a darker man with blonde hair in the face of a paler man with dark hair. "What the hell did you say to me, you fucking degenerate?" The other guy mumbled something under his breath, not making eye contact with the angry man, spikes coming out of his skin. "Yeah, I fucking thought that's what you said, asshole. People who use that word ain't no fucking friend of mine."
The lighter man straightened up at the sight of the spikes, electricity starting to crackle around him. "You wanna fight, you-" people around them gasped as he said the same insult as before. Bobby felt himself shudder. He hated that word, having heard it used toward some of his friends back before he found out he was a mutant. He had thought that this time was more progressive, but he guessed that it wasn't all that further ahead than his own time. Although, it seemed black people had a larger spot in the world than they had back in 1963. He remembered watching as his friends and their families were attacked and insulted daily. He hadn't even gone to school with a single black kid because they had all been forced into a different building. His parents had never made a fuss out of anyone's skin colour, but they had turned their noses up at the openly gay couple in the neighbourhood. He hated when he heard that word, though, because it made him think of hatred and hostility. The time they were in now, however, he saw black people with all sorts of power. It made him feel better that someday, his friends would have a better opportunity; it gave him hope.
Warren shifted in his seat, wings rustling. "Hey, Bobby, let's get out of here before a real fight happens."
Bobby shook his head in agreement and they left, walking down the lit up streets of New york, the air not as muggy and heavy as inside the clubs. Bobby could feel the alcohol inside of him, making his limbs feel fake and head feel way too light to stay up. Somehow he was walking decently. "What was the guy's problem?"
Waren shrugged. "It was just a word. I don't understand why he had gotten so upset over it."
Bobby stopped walking and stared at Warren in disbelief. "Just a word?"
"Well, yeah," Warren stopped and turned to face Bobby. "What's the big deal?"
"What's the big deal," Bobby repeated, mocking obvious in his voice. "He called him a freaking- a, a- uh, dammit, Warren! I cannot believe I'm having this conversation with you!"
"What conversation?"
"About- about black people! I can't-" Bobby shook his head. "You don't understand how nasty that word really is, Warren, do you?"
"It's just a word," he repeated, shrugging.
"No, it's really not. We're from 1963, Warren. Black people can't even vote or go to the same school as me. I have friends who live on the same street as me that, if they are walking on the sidewalk with someone who's white, they're forced onto the road because those white people will literally- I've seen friends beaten to a bloody pulp while that word was shouted and jeered at them, Warren!"
Warren frowned. "Well, then you and I lived very different lives before we became X-men, didn't we?"
"Let me guess, you had all black servants? You're dad threw the word around like it was a goddamn synonym for maid or butler or cook? You never grew up watching them flinch when it was said because if they so much as fucking frowned because of it, I bet they were out on the streets without a fucking job!"
"Bobby," Warren hissed, "please stop yelling. This isn't important."
"Yes it is!" Bobby only yelled louder, squeezing his eyes shut against tears. "Black lives matter (4), Warren! Black lives matter because black people matter because people matter!" Ice erupted all around Bobby as he screamed out the last word. He crumpled into a ball on the ground, sobs wracking his body.
Warren kneeled beside him in worry, hands hovering above him but not touching him. "It's important to me because I've watched my neighbours' houses burn down. I've seen my friends be refused by the hospital closest to us because they were black. I've watched as the only black kid in my school dropped out because all of the teachers called her that goddamned word." He cried some more, his tears turning to ice as they fell to the ground, shattering. "But you grew up like that word didn't mean anything to anyone and was just... a fucking description. It kills people, Warren." He looked up at the other, wiping his face. "It's like the word faggot," he spat. Warren flinched. "What if your dad walked around and called you a faggot every day of your fucking life?"
He pulled away from Warren and stood up. "Faggot isn't as bad as that word, but it hurts. Words can be very powerful, very painful things, Warren." He turned to look at the other, who was looking down at the ground, shame written across every feature on his face.
"I'm sorry," he said, jaw clenching as his eyes grew wet.
"Oh, no, no no no no. Don't you start crying, too! Tonight was supposed to be all about having fun!" Bobby walked over to Warren, placing a hand on his face.
"Yeah, but I'm a fucking asshole, I'm just now realising. I never thought to think that my dad was... That I was..."
"Warren, you're not... Come on, let's go have some fun. Let's hit up a different club. Let's get drunk some more. God that's fun. Let's dance."
So they flew to New Jersey, hitting up even more clubs and getting even more drunk, the fight all but forgotten. They were dancing, practically grinding against each other when someone who was taller than Warren accidently bumped into him. Her elbow connected with Warren's nose and he hissed, ducking down slightly. The girl turned and apologised, with not just one mouth, but three, all of them frowning in concern. Warren was holding his nose, nursing it. "M'fine," he said, standing up and trying to assure her. Blood began to trickle down, however, only making her begin to fret and reach into her purse. She pulled out a packet of tissues and handed them to her. Warren thanked her and both he and Bobby headed to the bathroom. (5)
Warren's nose wasn't gushing, but it was a steady flow of crimson. Luckily it hadn't gotten on his shirt, which was white. Not a smart decision. He nursed his nose until it stopped bleeding, Bobby leaning against the wall as he turned to smile at him. "You have a little blood on your face," Bobby pointed out, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it. He wiped the blood off, smirking. "I can't believe that girl was taller than you," he laughed.
Warren scowled, tugging Bobby along. They left the club and Warren was getting ready to lift Bobby back into the air. "How's your nose?"
"S'fine, a little sore."
"Awe, it hurts? Here, lemme give it a little kiss. I promise I'll be gentle." Warren sighed but Bobby turned around and lifted himself up onto his tiptoes, planting a gentle kiss on Warren's nose. He flinched slightly and Bobby laughed. "Should you even be flying so drunk? And what if the elevation cause your sensitive nose to start bleeding again?"
"Then I'll just bleed into your hair," he grumbled, blushing at Bobby's babying of him.
"Awe, that's not very nice. I'm worried about you, why don't we crash in a motel or hotel until we're positive your nose is better." Warren shuffled his feet but reluctantly agreed. They walked to the hotel, Bobby constantly asking how Warren was feeling. They got into their room and Warren snapped, not unfriendly, just exasperated.
"My nose is fine, Bobby," he said.
"It's just, she hit you hard enough to make it bleed, Warren. Typically when someone hits you hard enough to make it bleed, you're not okay right away. Think about it. I just want to make sure you're okay. We don't need a broken nose."
"The only thing I've broken tonight is my nail," Warren muttered, glancing at his hand with a pissed face. (6)
"Look at it," he said as he held his hand out. Bobby examined it, giving the other a quizzical glance.
"I see a slight chip in it," he offered.
"It's fucking chipped," Warren cried out, raising his hands as if he couldn't possibly understand why Bobby didn't understand that a chipped nail was a travesty. "My nails were finally looking decent and then I chipped one!"
"Warren, we punch people all the fucking time, I'm pretty sure a chipped nail is not the end for you."
"Maybe not literally, but there go my chances of being a hand model any time soon."
"Jesus, Warren, it'll grow back."
"But it won't be the same length as the others! It'll bother me for ages!"
"Awe, not only did Warren get elbowed in the nose, but now his nails aren't perfect," Bobby pouted, walking over to Warren. "The end of the world is upon us, and there is nothing we can do to right these travesties. The saddest day for humans and mutants and inhumans alike. At least, Warren is spending his last day with the one who means most to him, but he simply cannot find the joy in it," Bobby pushed Warren onto the bed, tracing the lines of his body like he had earlier, "for he has chipped his nail." Bobby giggled, kissing Warren.
Warren scowled into the kiss, trying to fight back his smile. When they parted he only strengthened his scowl. "The end of the world is upon us and I have the unfortunate fate of spending it with Robert Louis Drake."
"I heard that guy is a total loser," Bobby said, leaning in to nibble on Warren's ear. "How sad that you have to spend any time with him at all, let alone your last day. You are the most unfortunate man in the world, Warren Kenneth Worthington... the third." His breath ghosted over Warren's neck and he felt the other shudder beneath him. "A bloody nose, a chipped nail, and Bobby Drake."
Warren pulled him into a kiss, frantic and sloppy. They kissed until Bobby couldn't tell where he ended and Warren began. The heat in his chest exploded when Warren began to strip them both, warm fingers going over cold skin and bodies moving together. They moved until Bobby- who was always cold- felt warmth going all through him, until they were moaning out each other's names and panting, sweating. Warren went limp on top of Bobby. They laid like that for a while, content in each other's arms, the bed warm and trying so hard to convince Bobby to fall asleep. (7)
Warren kissed Bobby's chest before pulling away, causing Bobby to groan and curl up, missing the warmth of the other more than usual. "We should head home soon. If we aren't back within two days, they're going to send out search parties." Bobby whined but knew that Warren was right. He crawled out of the bed, picking up his clothing and getting dressed. His limbs felt heavy and he couldn't believe that Warren was about to fly them back to the west coast and into Canada. He shook his head, clearing out those thoughts.
They flew and flew, only stopping to eat or use the bathroom. It took them two days and one sketchy motel to get back to the school. The snow was sparkling white and Bobby urged Warren to drop him. He created an ice slide and threw himself into the snow, making a snow angel. "Look, Warren! I'm making a snow you!" Warren laughed and dropped himself in the snow, wings spread out. He carefully sat up and fly into the air, scooping Bobby up as well. Warren't snow angel was much better, Bobby had to admit. The stopped at the school, letting everyone know they were home and scarfed down some food.
When it grew dark, Bobby went outside. Warren found him making small flurries in front of him, staring up at the sky. He hugged Bobby, wrapping his wings around them both. "Let's go for a walk."
They entered the forest, leaving the school lights behind them. They walked until it was almost impossible to see in front of them- if it weren't for the bright light of the moon, it would have been impossible. Bobby sat in the snow, and looked up at the moon. It was even brighter and bigger than when they were in the Pennsylvanian fields. (8). Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Warren staring at him, a sad look on his face. "Bobby, I never want this to end," he said after a while.
"We have to go back inside at some point. You'll get frostbite," Bobby said, missing what Warren had been trying to tell him.
"No, Bobby. This. Us." He sighed.
"Why… why would it ever have to?" Bobby felt his heart thud heavily in his chest, panic racing through him.
"When we go back to our time… all of our friends might accept us, but society never well. Like you said the other day, we're from 1963. Even if it's okay to be gay now, it wasn't then. And what if… what if they were right about the Professor? We go back and he erases everything we remember from this time?"
Bobby swallowed. "I don't want to forget," he said, voice hoarse.
"Neither do I, Bobby. I love you." Warren looked up at the sky, breathing heavily. "I never want to go home."