hackthis_archive | Shame is for other people

X2 was supposed to be a temporary toy. You know, a patch. Methadone. Nicotine gum. It wasn’t supposed to be a drug itself! *kicks FDA* I blame you lot. And

andariell. And

ethrosdemon. Pushers! Dealers! I’m siccing Nancy Regan on the lot of you!

Nobody in Satan’s Hell could resist a photograph like this, plus I felt like a laugh. Ah, the pains of growing up...

Movieverse: X2
Words

It started like this:

Bobby brought it all on himself. Really.

He might’ve said that he liked Johnny. He might have said that nothing would ever happen. He probably complained. A lot.

Jubilee might’ve told him to stop acting like a little girl.

Kitty could’ve told him to stop acting like he couldn’t ask St. John out himself.

Rogue would’ve laughed.

Yes, all that might have happened. Actually, might nothing. It really did.

So, Bobby asked. Or he complained. Or he wished. Something like that happened, and Johnny said yes. Actually Johnny smiled. Or he grinned. Or he smirked. Okay, he did that thing that he always tended to do, that twitching of the lips that made Bobby’s jeans feel too tight.

Nevertheless, a result was had.

Bobby was so not expecting the ‘yes.’

*

So then it went like this:

Bobby had achieved what he wanted. He just wanted to know they could go somewhere. Together. Without other people. The idea itself was enough for him. Kinda.

But then Kitty asked when.

And Rogue asked where.

Jubilee said he couldn‘t wear a tee shirt.

Bobby had kind of forgotten about the technicalities. He had barely come to grips with the reality, but now he had to make a plan. One that did not include video games and McDonalds.

Dating was not really something Bobby had experience with, so, he consulted the girls. They said no to the drag racing. And no to the hiking. They suggested a picnic. Bobby might’ve hurled.

So then the compromise was made. And the arrangements were put in place.

St. John was given a time and a meeting spot. Bobby was subjected to a full-scale fashion makeover. He had to wear a tie. He had to wear a jacket. He drew the line at the pants though, not even Johnny was worth that. Or so Bobby thought.

At the set time and date Bobby left Jubilee’s room, where she had been playing Airy-Fairy ‘Oh my gawd, like totally’ Godsister, and made his way to the front hall. Perhaps walking a bit quicker than was necessary, but it would be bad manners to be late.

Right.

Of course the word ‘date’ never rang home until Bobby heard the click of Johnny’s lighter and caught a glimpse of the leather jacket and the really nice trousers that were not jeans.

They were really nice.

And then Bobby had to remind himself that ‘goddamn’ was not a word either. Not technically anyway.

*

And then this happened:

Bobby didn’t have a license.

Neither did Johnny.

Not as though they had transportation anyway, but still. Johnny saw nothing wrong with ‘borrowing,’ one of the numerous bikes or cars or ‘something with wheels until Bobby got the flying thing worked out.’ Bobby objected. It was his date anyway. Next time St. John could get them both in trouble. Johnny smirked at the mention of next time. Bobby just went a bit cold.

In the end, they wound up trying to catch the bus. Not that the bus ran anywhere near the school.

By the time they’d walked the half-mile to the stop, it was only another half mile to the town. They arrived rather worse for the wear and not just a little unkempt. St. John had his coat tossed over his shoulder, and Bobby had tried to ditch his tie somewhere alongside the road. Strangely enough, St. John made him go back for the tie and put it back on. When Bobby shot him a dirty look, Johnny just grinned and said he expected ‘the full treatment.’ Bobby couldn’t afford the whole treatment, and to not put too fine a point on it, things were really beginning to suck.

Bobby had wanted to impress St. John on their first date. Instead they wound up tired and dirty and missing their dinner reservation.

If Bobby had had more experience... if he had taken Johnny to the city. Well, then he probably would’ve just fucked up there instead. It was a rather humbling thought.

Bobby had wanted their date to be this amazing thing. He had kinda forgot the logistics thing. Mr. Summers would have been appalled. Johnny just laughed it off and took him to McDonalds instead. When Bobby tried to pay, Johnny leaned over and whispered in his ear.

Bobby was not expecting the word ‘boyfriend‘.

*

And it all ended like this:

They had just enough time to eat before they had to turn right back around and head back to school. The pain of curfews. The pain of being too young, with no wheels, on a Sunday evening.

The walk back to school was considerably more relaxed than the walk to town: St. John ate a caramel sundae that Bobby had insisted upon. Bobby made corny jokes. Johnny laughed. Bobby made a point of keeping Johnny’s sundae frozen.

They walked along the side of the road joking and laughing and kicking stones. It was very ‘young love‘. Not that Bobby was in love. Just in like. A lot of like.

At some point Johnny offered Bobby a spoonful of ice cream. Which Bobby accepted but never got, because St. John held out the spoon and then pulled it back a bit. And then he pulled it back a bit more. And a bit more. Until Johnny was right in Bobby’s face, breathing warm caramel and vanilla ice cream all over him, and Bobby forgot about the ice cream.

Their first kiss was considerably better orchestrated than their first date. The kiss was full of freshly-shaven skin and very sharp teeth.

St. John dropped his ice cream and grabbed Bobby by the lapels of his suit jacket. They stumble-dragged each other over to the side of the road, and Bobby got his hands under that really soft leather jacket that Johnny had been wearing. Bobby was slightly dismayed to realize that Johnny was wearing another shirt under the green and black soccer jersey he had been sporting. However, Bobby gained immense appreciation for the very soft dress pants that Johnny was wearing: they conformed to St. John’s body very well.

They conformed to Bobby’s groping hands even better.

They probably looked quite a sight, standing on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere, making out like... teenagers.

There wasn’t much finesse just a lot of groping and grinding, which got slightly waylaid when a random car came out of nowhere, and they sort of fell into the foliage that lined the road.

That pretty much killed the moment.

Or so Bobby thought until Johnny grabbed him by his tie and pulled him to his feet. That pretty much brought the moment back, especially when St. John used said tie to lead Bobby back to the road and direct him towards the school, with the encouraging words of ’shower’ and ’soap.’

To Bobby’s ears he’d never heard anything better.

-finis-

Notes: Once again Doves strike. The title belongs to them, and ‘The Last Broadcast’ really is a brilliant album. I highly recommend it if you like British music. Or even if you don’t.

Also. This photograph is responsible for the above insanity.