prodigalflame: (Default)
[personal profile] prodigalflame
John felt weary as he clambered up the couple of steps to the porch. His legs were lead; his brow creased; his spine stiff and uncomfortable. He'd only stopped for one drink and that had clearly not been enough. It wasn't that he was tired, for his head was chasing itself around with unproductive, dark thoughts at fifty miles an hour.

Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out the keys and even sliding them home in the lock seemed too much of a task. Around him the London gloom seemed oppressive, and it didn't seem to lift inside the house, all dark rooms and black windows, papers not done, books unread, the products of a life - his life - aimless and artless.

He hid the rings behind some boxes at the bottom shelf of one of many bookcases in his study, safe in the knowledge that Bobby didn't really infringe upon his privacy, didn't really impose, didn't really push - but god, sometimes he wished he did. Sometimes he was just plain tired of hiding things, of sorting through the truths to tell and parsing them, of biting his tongue, of pushing it down, of being - well, not a good guy, but a dishonest guy. Because that what it felt like.

Who did he have to confess to, now that no-one could ever figure out his crimes?

Closing his eyes, he pushed himself back up, and god, he felt old. He'd set fire to two businesses earlier that day, and it had felt good. Enjoyable, even. Pure. He'd kept himself to strict limits, there'd be no casualties, and he'd walked away with a chuckle in his eyes, was the kind of shit he'd pulled when he was a kid. Petty. Angry. Us versus them. And running into Em, and hearing her story; and then running into Jag - it reminded him there were different ways of using power, of loving fire, of being him.

Bobby was probably upstairs, but John didn't go up. It felt too much like forgiveness. Bobby always did, even at Alcatraz. Then, it had just made him angrier. Now, it shamed him. So he rummaged around in the kitchen for the bottle of vodka he stashed away for nights like this, and retired to the couch to drink, and drink, and drink.

Date: 2015-12-31 01:48 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (straight shooter)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby was upstairs on his laptop when he heard John come in, and he fully expected to see him pop his head in the bedroom door any moment. When that didn't happen for a few minutes, he frowned and closed the laptop, setting it aside as he went downstairs to check on his boyfriend.

"...Hey," he said from the doorway, frowning a little at the sight of John on the couch with the bottle. "You okay?"

Date: 2016-01-08 10:05 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (straight shooter)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby's frown deepened and he crossed the room to sit down next to John, reaching out to rest a hand on his leg. "You don't have to apologize, baby. Do you want to tell me about it?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear about it, but--the mutants Em had known in another universe, they weren't them. Curiosity about their counterparts was natural, but at the end of the day, the experiences they'd lived were clearly very different in that other world.

Date: 2016-01-08 10:42 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (had a bad day)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby didn't know what stunned him more; the thought of him being in an open relationship, or the fact that this whole time Em had been looking at the face of her boyfriend. Watching the two of them together must be torture for her. "Wow. ...Shit." He just kind of stared for a second, really at a loss for what else to say.

Finally, he reached for the bottle and took a hefty slug of it for himself, eyes watering a little as he set it back down. "Wow," he repeated softly.

Date: 2016-01-08 11:27 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (straight shooter)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Seeing John cry broke Bobby's heart in an instant, even before the words he spoke had a chance to. "Hey, no, shh. Don't say that," he murmured, scooting close to wrap his arms around John. "You deserve me. I wouldn't be here if you didn't. I love you, okay? Even when you fuck up," he promised fervently.

Date: 2016-01-10 10:08 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (Default)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby had to consider his answer carefully, because he wanted to make it clear that he wasn't just saying these things to humor John or make him feel better. "I do hate it. But it's not the way you always treat me, and isn't always easy, except in the movies. In real life, there are going to be days when you do things I hate, and days when I do things you hate. But in the bigger picture, you make me so happy. You make me look forward to every day. Why would I ever leave that?" As for not fighting back, he shouldn't have to explain that by now. He wasn't a fighter, and he never would be. Not by choice.

Date: 2016-01-20 01:14 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (X-Man)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby didn't comment on John's observation about them being in a movie. He shuddered to think what kind of a movie John would want them to make, anyway.

He pulled away a bit at the rest of what John said, tensing up a little at the turn in the topic, but out of frustration more than anything. "I'm not avoiding things," he protested, rubbing his forehead. "I just don't see what the point in talking about them is. It's not going to change what happened. I don't want to live in the past. "And...yeah, there are some bad memories. Some memories that I 100% don't like. But there are so many good memories of us too. Way more than the bad ones. And we're building even more good memories together now. Am I supposed to let a few bad memories chase me away from a relationship that makes me happier than I've ever been?"

Date: 2016-02-01 10:26 pm (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (straight shooter)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby looked at him, considering the words. "You don't think I know what you've done? Who you are? I do know you, John. I know what you did. I know you hurt innocent people, killed innocent people." He looked away briefly, then back, squeezing John's hand.. "And I'm not going anywhere."

He sighed, rubbing his thumb over John's hand comfortingly. "And for the record, anyone that pulled a knife on either of us in London...would get what was coming to them." Unlike John, he wasn't a killer, but to protect him he would do whatever was necessary, and he wouldn't expect any less from John.

"Although...I want to talk about these fires," he added with a stern note.

Date: 2016-02-05 11:04 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (straight shooter)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby laughed a little at John's comment, that flash of ego that Bobby was pretty sure was at least half bravado. The laughter and smile faded quickly, though, and he nodded at John, squeezing his hand encouragingly. He wasn't thrilled that John had set fires tonight, but he was trying to keep judgment out of the equation and just try to understand why. "Tell me what happened," he said quietly, tracing his thumb along the side of John's hand.

Date: 2016-02-07 09:03 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (straight shooter)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
How could John do that, make him simultaneously want to hug him and kick his ass? He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his cheek and asked, not ungently, "And what did that accomplish, baby? It's not going to stop them. It didn't serve any purpose beyond lashing out, John." And he knew there was anger within his boyfriend, although these days it seemed more tempered most of the time than it used to be, which is why it was a little surprising that John had done something so...petty and pointless.

"The best way to fight a bigot is to stand up to them, not set their business on fire." He took a deep breath and brought John's hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles before adding softly, "But I'm proud of you for stopping it, for not hurting anyone. Thank you."

Date: 2016-02-12 08:01 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (surprise)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
"You know, you're not the only one that was affected by that night," Bobby said, clenching his jaw. "And if you think it was easy turning you over..." he looked away, pressing his lips together. He was not going to discuss this. He wasn't. Certainly not like this. John's words had made him realize just how raw those memories still were, even if things between them were so much better now.

He was about to add that he thought John went looking for trouble, that it didn't follow him, but then John kept talking, and he shook his head, eyes filling with tears. "You're right. I'm the golden boy, everything in my life has been just great since that night." He stood, moving for the door. "Enjoy your vodka and your self-pity, John. I'm going to bed." In his old room, the one that now sat vacant.

Date: 2016-02-12 09:22 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (Default)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby stopped walking but didn't turn around, shoulders stiff as he listened grudgingly. And at first, he was about ready to keep walking, because really? John wanted to equate him joining Magneto, skipping out on all of them to seek power and glory, to how hard it had been to turn his former best friend over to the police, knowing what it would mean, knowing there was a good chance he would never see him again--and even if he did, John was as likely to try to kill him again as anything else? But what he'd done had been the right thing, despite the guilt he still felt today about it. What John had done...had been the selfish thing.

But then he slowly turned as John kept talking, swallowing hard as tears trickled down his face. "I hate what they did to you too," he said hoarsely. "I never wanted that for you." He wiped his face and laughed bitterly. "What I wanted was to have my best friend back. But I didn't think--" he broke off as a sob caught in his throat, taking a shaky breath before continuing, "I didn't think I'd ever get that, much less what we have."

He took a few steps back toward John, stopping just outside of his personal space. "I know--I know you don't see the world like I do, and I--I'm mostly okay with that, but--I can't just...just stand by and say nothing if you're setting fires just because you're angry, or hurt. You know I can't." He shrugged helplessly. He just wasn't built like that. He did believe in doing the right thing, in laws and compassion and taking care of and lifting up his fellow man. It was just who he was.

Date: 2016-02-23 09:18 am (UTC)
cold_blueeyes: (aw shucks)
From: [personal profile] cold_blueeyes
Bobby closed his eyes for a moment as John's hand gently brushed his cheek. Part of him was still raw and hurt by John's words, wanted to retreat, to pull away, to regroup. That part of him still wanted to sleep in his old room, to give himself time to shake off that hurt, pack it away where it could be easily ignored.

But a much larger part just wanted everything to be okay again right now, wanted to wrap himself around John and show him that no matter what they'd both done, it didn't change what they were together now. It wouldn't. He took a shaky breath and nodded, opening his eyes to give John a wan smile. "Yeah, okay." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of John's mouth. "Bed sounds good."
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