prodigalflame | [For Bobby] The Morning After The Night Before

John had woken early and moved lightly under the sheets, to prop his head up on one hand and just look at the young man sleeping on the other side of the bed. Bobby Drake. Bobby freaking Drake, probably Robert, possibly Louis just for shits and giggles, sleeping in his bed, curled up under the covers after a night that wasn't nearly drunk enough to give either of them any excuses.

John just looked at him for a few minutes that felt like a lifetime, breathing quiet, speaking no words, and the smile that spread across his face was full of wonder. Even if no one was awake to see it.

So he snuck out of bed like a thief, grabbing a decent plush robe from the back of the door and tying it around his waist, and headed down the stairs to fry up some eggs and bacon for breakfast. Breakfast for two, that was.

The problem, he decided, after he'd gotten the eggs out and made sure the bacon was defrosted, was that there was no fucking point in cooking a romantic/cute/welcoming/what-the-fuck-ever breakfast if he got it wrong.

So he trooped 'round to the stairwell near the dining area and bellowed "Hey, asshole! Get down here and tell me how you like your eggs."

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An eyebrow went up. But my mouth is especially sweet when your come has something to do with it was what he thought, but decided not to say. No, that wouldn't pass muster unless he had a few beers in him. Unless they both had, probably, from the look Bobby was giving him.

Instead, John settled for a shrug, and a certain amount of lofty fake seriousness. "The dishes do need to be done; I'm a fucking responsible grad student these days, at least. You live in my house, you got to have standards, Drake. I got all day to make out with you."

"What do you think I'm doing?" Bobby replied with an arch of his eyebrow. "You don't get to take credit for the idea when I'm already halfway to doing it anyway." He was sorely tempted to stick his tongue out, but they were being responsible adults right now, so he resisted and just carried the dishes to the sink to get them washed.

John just raised an eyebrow at Bobby's retreating back. It was his house, his rules. His boyfriend? Definitely his rules. And if that meant claiming credit for an idea what had been John's anyway, that was perfectly fine by him. Finishing off his coffee before it cooled, he was still partly shaking his head at how ludicrous this was. Hi, this is Bobby. Went to school together, before I subsequently tried to both kill and date him.

It probably wasn't one of those things that sounded less weird outside his head. Fortunately no-one remindered who he was, so he wouldn't really have to have that introduction - and John found he was a little disappointed, actually. It sure as hell would knock people's socks off. Bobby'd probably hate it, though.

Shame there wasn't really anyone - except there was. "Oh, Bobby?" John called out. And this definitely wasn't a 'Drake' moment. "I met someone who knows who I am." Thank God he didn't have to look at the reaction on Bobby's face. "Redhead. Female. Fucking gorgeous, actually." Not that he'd noticed.

Bobby had already turned on the water to rinse the plates before loading them into the dishwasher, but when he heard John call out, he turned it down so he could hear. "Oh, yeah? I think I met her, too," he said, remembering the redheaded woman from another world that had known him and yet not.

"Scary as fuck, actually," John called back, before getting up from the chair to lean in the doorway. Like a gentleman. And honestly, it made sense that intense chick on a mission had found Bobby as well, dorky false name or no. "Minding my own business, when this woman gets all up in my face about how she knows what I did. No one's supposed to know what I did! Even before everything changed, it was all suppressed, court orders and shit. Was she like that with you?"

"Wait, what?" Bobby turned to look at him with a frown. "No, she was really nice. She, uh--knew me in another world, or something," he said, shrugging. He wondered if maybe John had done the same thing in her world, if she hadn't forgiven him, but that was still no excuse to come at him all hostile if she didn't even know if this John had done the same thing.

"Noooo," John said slowly, stretching out the world. Another world? What? It was bad enough that people were apparently back from the dead (and part of him didn't entirely believe that, maybe the deaths had been faked or something) but as long as everyone believed they were dead, alive, or from the same constituent reality, it was probably none of his business.

"This chick was all -" He didn't know what she was, exactly- "I dunno, Homeland Security, or something? It was a real 'We're watching you, jerkwad' vibe." Then it hit him: "You met someone from another world? There's another world and there's mutants, and you, and stuff...?"

God. What if there was a him?

"Yeah, I'm gonna guess not the same redhead," Bobby replied. "But yeah, she said she just showed up here about a month before. She was a precog or something. Oh, and psi projections, she made this hummingbird appear and everything. But she said she knew was friends with me where she was from." He laughed a little, uncomfortable. "Honestly, I've tried not to think about it too much. It's kind of bizarre, even by our standards, you know?"

"Huh." John thought about it for a second before he answered: "Precogs always come in handy." Helped to know who was going to kick your ass before they actually did so, if that sort of detail was possible. Which it never was. Dammit, what was the whole thing about them being the superior race again? The projections sounded cute, and could be useful as a tactical distraction.

Some of the colour left his face as John realised that he still thought of powers as primarily a offensive or defensive gift, in a tactical, warfare-oriented context. But then doing domestic things like cooking with them had always seemed like a waste.

"You're right," he said after a pause, and cracked a grin. "Totally bizarre." Almost as bizarre as you and me, Drake. "If you see her again, say hi, and just take it as a given you're a friendly optimist in every fucking universe."

In his experience, precogs were as dangerous as they were handy, but that wasn't really their fault. Predicting the future was an inexact process, he could get that.

Bobby snorted, but he couldn't help but grin in return. "You sound pretty confident about that." But part of him really did want to find out more about the other version of him. Who wouldn't, really? Except what if it was a case of 'be careful what you wish for?' That thought had kept him from seeking her out to try to get more information about the world she was from.

Bobby probably knew more about precogs. That idle thought helped him out of his funk: Bobby probably knew more about precogs, because Bobby had training, and classes, and the Danger Room, and Xavier for that little bit longer. And John hadn't, and he realised how okay he was with that.

It made the grin soften into a teasing smile. "She doesn't sound evil, and she sees you as trustworthy, so I'm gonna go her with knowing you based on your whole good guy charm." The smile became sweeter, if anyone ever bothered to connect John with the world 'sweet': "Besides, the idea of a universe with a you who isn't you doesn't bear thinking about." Bobby could always invite her over; he could cook. Nice little mutant party, God, that would be good.

[For Bobby] The Morning After The Night Before - December 20

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