Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/380680.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      John_Allerdyce/Bobby_Drake
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Coming_Out, Costume_Parties_&_Masquerades, Blow
      Jobs
  Series:
      Part 3 of If_Love_is_a_Mixtape
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-04-11 Words: 2524
****** Exaggeration ******
by gala_apples
Summary
     Pre-X1, Bobby and John attend a dance. John uses an interesting form
     of persuasion to make Bobby go.
Notes
     Title: If Love is a Mixtape
     Idea summary: then life is the tracks you listen to. (each story was
     written while listening to one song on repeat, for however long it
     took. In the case of side A track 5, that means a 3 minute song on
     repeat for about 6 hours. *head bash*)
     Side A: Bobby
     Track 3: Diana Ross- I'm Coming Out. Lyric used was "I'm coming out,
     I want the world to know, gotta let it show".
"John?"
Bobby's standing in front of the huge mirror rimmed in golden paint. Their
entire room is dark wood and gold highlights, save for the replacement lamp on
Bobby's nightstand. The old one with the proper golden base has been
substituted with a cheaper plastic globe, with innumerable holes where the
light shines out. Scott brought home a plastic replacement after their
conversation of why the old ceramic lamp broke.
The conversation had been held with quiet voices, both men shading deeper and
deeper red with blush as the explanation went on. Words about how one of them
kicked it, they didn't mean to, -who kicked it, how did you not mean to kick a
lamp, you have to kick up into the air to break it- I'm not sure who kicked it
sir, and you don't have to kick up if it's level with a bed and there's someone
on a bed- why were you both level with the... oh...- yes, sir.
John and Bobby don't have perfectly matching furniture anymore, but they have
at least one teacher's understanding. Neither know if Scott had told any other
staff, but he tends to be their advisor for any questions about the future.
They don't need everyone to know everything about their life, both are content
to let people guess and assume whatever they want.
Or at least, Bobby thought they were both content. Then the theme of the dance
Jean puts on every first Sunday was declared. Now Bobby's not sure if he does
know everything John thinks. He certainly hadn't expected this, after all.
"What? I'm busy, here." John shouts from the Jack and Jill bathroom. The door
to their bedroom is open, the door to the other bathroom is locked. It's the
small things, like locks on doors, for which Bobby is grateful. It's going to
be bad enough to walk out in the halls, to be in a decorated gym with seventy
other students. The last thing he needs is Sam and Piotr walking in on them
getting ready.
"I'm having serious, serious second thoughts." Looking at what he's wearing,
how could he not desperately want to avoid leaving their bedroom?
"Stop being a baby. You're lucky to be wearing what you are. Better than me!"
He has to shout to make himself heard over the running water. Bobby once again
resists turning his head. If he does, he'll see John naked in the shower,
curtain wrinkled dry against the wall. They haven't showered with the door
closed in ages. But now is not the time to be turned on by John Allerdyce, now
is the time to form a intelligent argument against wearing these goddamn
costumes.
When John's comment reaches his brain, Bobby realises it's also time to make
John see the truth. "Bullshit. I completely call bullshit on that. Look at what
I'm wearing! Look at what you're not! At least you're going to look hot, damn
it."
"I'll look hot, but I'll be freezing cold. You remember how horrible that gym
is during morning classes." Like any fire, John takes awhile to warm up. Every
morning it's an epic battle to get John out of the covers. It takes promises of
hugs and hoodies and 'you can use your lighter to warm your hands if no one
sees'. By lunch he's normal temperature, but much more susceptible to cold than
Bobby. He doesn't know if it has to do with his power, John's power, or if it
doesn't have to do with either and John is just a wimp for temperatures. "It'll
suck. We all have to face our troubles. Suck it up Bobby, and accept it."
A small part of him wants to kill John for being so damn stubborn. Most of him
allocates the hypothetical killing to Dr Grey for making tonight's theme
Exaggeration. With something that vague she had to know that the crazier
students would use it as an excuse to do crazy things. For example, Bobby's
heard Dani's going to wear a sheer teddie because she causes people's
nightmares, and for once she wants to be a dream. Considering that girl's body,
at least from an aesthetic perspective, Bobby's sure she'll cause mass drooling
in the students.
The phrasing of John's words reminds Bobby of a pleasant possibility. "I'll
wear this goddamn costume if I get some sort of reward for doing it."
"I'm in the shower, you idiot. I'm busy. This is taking longer then I thought
it would."
Bobby has to agree with that. John's been in the shower for at least half an
hour shaving. "Well, use the rest of your time thinking of a convincing bribe.
Persuasion, if you will. Until then, I'll be waiting." Worrying is more like
it. There's a lot riding on John's assumption that the rest of the students and
teachers aren't bigots. Bobby has no idea how much longer he'll have to stay
here to master his ability, never mind that he wants to stay forever. If
tonight goes badly, they both might have to stay with a supremely bad
atmosphere around them.
For lack of anything better to do, he looks at himself in the mirror again.
It's horrible. A bright pink polo shirt starts off the ensemble. Forgivable,
even though it's not 1983 and he's not on Miami Vice. But the sea foam sweater
dangling down his back, sleeves draped delicately on his shoulders; that just
kills the entire 'still possibly straight' idea. And when he looks at the white
and red scarf tied around his neck, he just wants to cry.
The theme of the dance is exaggeration, and three weeks ago John told Bobby
they were going to be the gayest gay men ever. Bobby had laughed it off as a
joke until three days ago, when John had rementioned his idea. Then, yesterday,
John told him he'd gotten the costumes, and Bobby's stomach had turned,
thinking of all the horrible stereotypes and possibilities. What he hadn't
figured was that he'd look so awful. At least in leatherman clothes he'd look
hot. But in this; this 35 year old man wants to adopt a Chinese baby outfit?
It's horrible, and John better come up with pretty damn good persuasion, or
he's not leaving the room.
Oh fuck, who is he kidding? He'd go anyway, because John wanted him too.
Because it would hurt John to (on the surface) refuse to get enthused about an
idea that he finds exciting. Deeper down, Bobby knows it's really that John
wants them to come out as a couple, and of course he has to do it in the most
complicated and irritating way, like he does every other thing. If he refuses
this, then he's telling John he doesn't want to be known as a couple.
Regardless of what Bobby chooses, he knows John will be coming out tonight. The
question is, is will he join John? Walk into the dance holding hands and answer
stupid questions all night?
The answer is, regardless of John's persuasion, yes he will. But he still wants
his persuasion, damn it.
It doesn't take very long for the taps to turn, and the water to stop. John
bounds out of the bathroom, feet slipping on the white tile. "Got an idea!" he
says breathlessly, nearly tumbling into Bobby in his hurry. He grabs Bobby's
shoulders by the awful sweater, and straightens.
"I've gotten an idea for persuasion," he repeats, this time in more control of
himself. He shivers as the rapidly cooling water drips down his body. Bobby
loves to watch John in the shower, loves to warm him up after he steps into the
cold air. Towels have become a thing of the past.
"You do, do you?" He can't help the sarcastic tinge, though he knows that if he
pushes John too much, John's likely to tell him to fuck off. The firestarter
isn't good with being teased. Yet another reason Bobby's concerned about
tonight. If too many dumb asses make too many jokes, John's liable to set
something on fire.
"Think I do," he responds, and drops to his knees. John's nimble fingers undo
the zipper of his white pressed khakis -white!- and he pulls them halfway down
Bobby's thighs. His underwear comes down next, while his dick goes rapidly up.
It's both a curse and a nice part of being a teenager, needing no touching to
be in the mood. John leans forward and blows air around the tip of his cock.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" His mouth hovers expectantly, as he waits
for Bobby to answer. Bobby takes a second to get back to coherency.
"I'm thinking good thoughts. So get to it. Please." Always use manners, an
admonition by his mother and Xavier.
That seems good enough for John, Bobby sighs deeply as he leans forward and
wraps his fantastic lips around his dick. Wet and warm and fucking wonderful,
he loves getting head from John. His hands cast around for something to grab
onto, he knows better than to grasp John's hair. The teen stops the moment
Bobby does, every time. He claims it ruins his technique.
Instead, his fingers dig into the bottom of his shirt. The hem's an inch away
from his dick, his fingers dangerously near John's head. The shirt is going to
wrinkle, but he doesn't care. There's a list of important things in his life,
and clothes in general are not on the list. This stupid pink shirt is lower
then 0 on his list.
It doesn't take long for his balls to draw up. It's a trifecta of perfection;
John's great at anything sexual, Bobby's a horny teenager, and Bobby loves John
and love makes sex better. He's about to warn John, when the boy slips his
mouth away. Bobby can't help but whine, wondering why John's decided to not
swallow tonight. It's usually a 80/20 chance.
But not only does John move away, he stands and smirks. "I'll finish after the
dance."
"Whyah?" No, that's so not cool that there can't possibly be words to explain
it. John can't just abandon him! He can't abandon his cock!
"You said think of persuasion. I thought it would be the best way. I even asked
you if we thought the same thing. I guess we weren't, huh?" at that, John
snickers. As much as Bobby loves him, at that moment he wants nothing more then
to punch John in the nose.
"Look, after we get back from the dance, I'll suck you off all night long. As
many times as you can get hard." The imagery is not helping his neglected dick
settle back down. "But right now, we're going to the dance. So tuck in your
shirt, adjust your sweater, and lets get going."
"In five minutes we'll go to the dance. Right now, I get to hate you." Waddling
to the bathroom, pants still around his thighs, he stops in front of the sink.
It's a few seconds work to get himself off, come hitting the back of the
porcelain basin.
Bobby sighs heavily when he enters their bedroom again. John's changed into his
exaggerated costume too, and Bobby's still sure that he got the better pick.
He's wearing very short white shorts, a puca shell necklace, and a white cowboy
hat with the string in rainbow colours. John's upper body and legs are
completed shaved, and he's gorgeous. As far as stereotypes go, John got to be
the 'Justin', he got to be the 'Ted'.
"After the dance, I swear to God..." he threatens.
"I think you'll be screaming God, actually," John replies, and they leave their
bedroom.
***
The moment they get back into their room, Bobby rushes to untie the ascot. It's
a evil thing, he can't imagine actually being gay enough to wear one on
purpose. His fingers work on the too tight knot, more then once tonight John
has pulled him around by the silky fabric. Finally it undoes, he crumples the
fabric and tosses it into a corner.
"Let's review." John is digging through his chest of drawers, ass presented
spectacularly to Bobby. He pulls out a sweater and drags it on. Like they'd
both predicted, John had been freezing cold the entire night. "Some people
claimed they knew all along."
"And you didn't laugh in their faces." It was good of John to not straight out
ridicule the nosy idiots, Bobby's proud of his boyfriend's restraint.
"And some people were teasing."
"And you didn't punch them!" Though Kitty had gotten really upset, and screamed
at a few to stop being homophobic. If Bobby's up for a guess, he'd say Kitty's
the most likely candidate to be their faghag. He's heard that every 'proper'
gay man has one.
"And a few were downright bigoted." At this John glares. Bobby's not stupid
enough to think it's himself that's being glared at. When John's angry, it's
him against the world. It follows then, that he glares at everything that's not
him. Bobby the boyfriend best friend isn't being glared at, Bobby the member of
the human race is being glared at.
"And you didn't set them on fire!" It's a compliment to his control, not a
compliment to the action. Really, Bobby wouldn't care if homophobes were set on
fire.
"All in all, a good night's work."
John's face quickly changes to a smile as he walks the few feet to Bobby. He
puts his arms around John's lower back and holds him close. He loves being
taller than John, being able to smell his hair when they lean against each
other. The smaller boy tilts his head up and they touch lips. It's less a kiss,
more an affirmation of mutual affection. A kiss that proves they'll always be
together, not a kiss of seduction and fluctuating hormones.
When they separate, Bobby remembers to add, "You forgot about those who claimed
to fully support us. That was happy-making, wouldn't you say?"
"I'd say I didn't care. Scott did what we needed him to do when we needed it,
to stay quiet. Now that we don't have to be quiet anymore, we don't need
anyone."
"I guarantee you John, you've never been quiet a moment of your life." He grins
toothfully at his boyfriend, echoes of countless nights of moaning in his head.
"So, how about that blowjob?" John grins back. Bobby lowers his hands a few
inches, grabs onto the asscheeks still squeezed into tidy white shorts.
"How about I take this stupid fucking sweater off and then we have sex?"
"I," his hands sneak between their bodies and Bobby melts as John grabs him
back "am always open to alternative ideas. I'm a free thinker, I guess."
Bobby wants to laugh at loud at the image of bohemian John that pops into his
head. John looks ridiculous in a beret and a goatee. But laughter isn't
conducive to raging passionate sex, so he holds off. Instead he manoeuvres John
towards his bed. It's been hours since the last time they've had sex, simply
too long.
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