fanfic (X-Men): "Back at my place, out of those wet clothes..."

[eliyes]

A million (read: three and a half) years ago, I promised hybridhelen I would do a continuation of this. And then I got hit with the work schedule of I-swear-my-boss-knows-just-how-to-ruin-my-fun (see also: any time I make plans to play a tabletop rpg, watch an anime marathon, do laundry, etc.).

Well, I never claimed I was fast. (That's JP's strong suit.)

So here goes:
Title: Back at my place, out of those wet clothes...
Summary: After a qualified failure in chatting up JP, Bobby feels the need to clear up a misunderstanding.
Warning: Changes POVs. This is signaled by a *~* between sections.
Author's note: I didn't try to imitate the style Helen used.


When Bobby got back to the mansion (Institute, whatever; it would always be the mansion in his thoughts) he went first to Jean-Paul's room. The door was closed, and he stood there with his knuckles an inch off the surface for a long moment, biting his lip. Finally, he turned on his heel without knocking, making for his room at a fast walk and trying not to rattle down the stairs too loudly.

Safely ensconced in his room, he pulled off his damp shirt and tossed it into the laundry basket, muttering under his breath as he rooted through the small mound of clothing he'd tried on and rejected earlier that evening.

"Pretending, huh! Can't be serious, yeah, right." He flung a shirt silk-screened with cartoon characters across the room with a little more force than necessary. "He's the one who didn't get the memo," he added, flapping the wrinkles out of a coffee coloured button-up he knew flattered him. He walked over to the mirror above his desk as he pulled it on, and had it half done up before he decided it was way too fussy for his purposes and yanked it up and off.

"Damn it!"

Bobby paced his room, running both hands through his hair a few times. He kicked off his shoes, sending one into the back of his closet and the other under his bed.

He heaved a huge sigh.

"If this doesn't work, I'm not going to feel like partying, that's for sure."

That decided, he retrieved one of his favourite polo shirts from his dresser and started back towards Jean-Paul's room. In the fire-code-mandated bright lights of the stairwell, he paused to look down at the shirt's red hue, and snorted with amusement.

"Roses are red, your eyes are blue," Bobby extemporized as he resumed climbing, and let loose a little more of his frustration with a growled, "Why can't I seem to get through to you?"

Then he paused again, and thoughtfully repeated: "Roses..."

*~*

Jean-Paul's normally neat room looked like a tornado had hit it. Not that you could really tell, since he had the lights off and the moon wasn't at a good angle to illuminate the scene. He wasn't a big fan of the dark, actually, but he was trying to trick himself into going to sleep and forgetting that scene at the bar had ever happened.

Damn Robert Drake and his -- his warm brown eyes, and charming smile, and -- and his entire body, let's be honest, here --

He sat up, punched his much-abused pillow a few more times, and flung himself back down on the bed again.

There came a knock at the door.

Jean-Paul said nothing. After a long moment the knock came again, this time more insistently, and was quickly followed by a muffled voice from the hall.

"JP, I know you're in there, I can feel your body heat."

That actually made Jean-Paul sit up, uttering blasphemies at the mental images those words inspired in his imagination.

"And now I can hear you swearing," the voice added helpfully.

"Go 'way, Robert!" Jean-Paul ordered loudly. To his extreme mortification, his voice broke slightly on the last syllable, completely ruining his otherwise stern tone.

"Not until we get something straight --"

Jean-Paul winced. Bobby, too, sounded like he was wincing as he hastily rephrased, "Clear, I meant clear, damn it." There was a thud.

"Don't beat your head off my door, you'll leave a dent," Jean-Paul called. He crossed his arms, even though no one could see him do so.

"Let me start over. I want to apologise for upsetting you, earlier, okay? I'm really sorry. I promise, making you feel mocked was never my intent."

There was a strange tinkling noise over by the door. Jean-Paul cast a light that way and was rewarded with a spangle of tiny rainbows across his wall as something made of ice formed just inside his room. For one wild instant he thought it was Iceman himself, but it stopped, much smaller, in the shape of a single, long-stemmed rose.

Without thinking, he walked over to it. It was breath-taking, perfect in every detail -- he could even see the places on the stem where thorns would have been removed, on the real thing. He caught himself just before he would have touched it. To do so would destroy the delicate splendor of the construct, melting his fingerprints into the ice.

Like Bobby's flirting, it wasn't real.

Jean-Paul's hand clenched into a fist.

*~*

Bobby felt the destruction of his offered rose more than heard it, and winced once more. That really wasn't a good sign.

"Jean-Paul? You didn't cut your hand just now, did you?"

With his ear pressed right to the door, he heard a click, and then what might have been ice fragments being swept away at superspeed.

"Non." Sullen, mono-syllabic French? Check. He'd definitely just screwed up again, somehow.

"Oh-kay, so you don't like roses... Look, please just -- just let me in for a minute. There's something I need to tell you, and then you can yell at me or kick me out or whatever you want, okay? Please?"

It was entirely possible that someone would come along and see him pressed against Jean-Paul's bedroom door, pleading to be let in, but Bobby didn't care. It's not like they'd be getting the wrong idea.

He thought he heard a gusty sigh, and then the door gave in and Bobby nearly stumbled right into Jean-Paul before catching himself. Probably a good thing; Jean-Paul hadn't elected to change into dry clothes after all. In fact, it appeared that Jean-Paul had just stripped down entirely, until he was left wearing just a sinfully silky looking pair of black boxer briefs.

"Whoa," Bobby choked out, staring. "You know, if you want to be The Invisible Man, having it written across your underpants in silver glitter is kinda--"

"L'homme invisible is the name of the brand," Jean-Paul said impatiently, flipping his hand as if to bat away the digression. "And you are wasting time."

Bobby managed to drag his eyes away from Jean-Paul's skivvies -- seriously, were those seamless? -- and met his eyes. He forced himself to focus.

"Jean-Paul." He took a deep breath. "I give you my word that, from this moment forward, I will never again flirt with you when I don't intend to follow through." He offered his hand, to shake on it.

Several expressions flashed across Jean-Paul's face, mostly too fast to be seen. Bobby was pretty sure he saw a sort of resigned disappointment in there, but Jean-Paul settled on 'tired' as he reached out and took Bobby's hand.

"D'accord. And thank you, Robert."

"No problem." Bobby clasped his other hand around Jean-Paul's hand in his and stepped forward, the better to get those distracting boxer briefs out of his field of vision. Eye contact! It was important Jean-Paul understand his sincerity.

"Keeping that promise in mind, I hope you will believe me when I tell you that I really do think you're attractive--"

"Robert!" Jean-Paul interjected angrily, yanking his hand away.

"I do! And I think we have chemistry, JP, and maybe I'm wrong, but if I'm not, I'd like to pursue that. Pursue you, or, no, that came out wrong. Look, could we go out to dinner or something?" He couldn't help it, his eyes flickered downward. "Also, it's really difficult to form coherent, uh, sentences, when you're standing there mostly naked."

Surely his minute was up by now. Bobby lowered his hands and just watched Jean-Paul, all his hope in his eyes. Wanting not to have screwed this up, again.

It seemed like a small eternity before Jean-Paul's disbelieving expression changed. But Bobby was too tense to read what it changed to before that face turned away.

He felt his heart plummet down past his knees, and closed his eyes for a moment in denial.

He was therefore taken completely by surprise when a scant handful of half-melted ice hit him in the chest. Bobby's eyes flew open as Jean-Paul mimed comically exaggerated dismay.

"Oh, mon Dieu, how clumsy of me." Jean-Paul's lips curled into a smoldering smile, and he purred, "We had better get you out of those wet clothes, hmmm?"

For one single heartbeat, Bobby was too stunned to react; then he felt his face stretch into a slow grin, and reached for his shirt hem.



A/N 2: Yes, those are the "sex machine" style of L'homme invisible boxer briefs. ;3


Whyyyyy am I still awake? *curses muses*

Cross-posted to speedsicle, which is mostly dead, but eh.

Comments

[hybridhelen.livejournal.com]

I LOVE THIS AND YOU SO VERY VERY MUCH.
SERIOUSLY, I AM THE HAPPIEST GIRL IN EDINBURGH, NAY, SCOTLAND, NAY, THE ENTIRE BLOGOSPHERE RIGHT NOW, because of the fact that you wrote this.
*twirls and twirls and twirls*
Personal hightlights:
Bobby talking to himself, especially 'Roses'.
Jean-Paul knowing that the thunk-noise is.
The way they both use their powers, so naturally.
Bobby feeling the ice break, more than anything else, and the fact that his firts concern is whether or not JP hurt himself.
The skivvies, oh the skivvies! (You know I went straight to google after I finished reading)
(I kind of also really like that fact that you do an A/N 2 after the fic, too!)
The happy ending, snatched from the jaws of disappointment, with the echoing of the best chat up line in the world, ever.
*grabs you, and twirls some more*

[eliyes.livejournal.com]

YOUR TWIRLING IS ALL THE REWARD I NEED. *basks in the love and happiness*

Happy endings snatched from the jaws of defeat seems to be my thing with these two. It's like a romantic comedy indoctrinated need to have a big misunderstanding leading to reaching out in communication and rewarded by relationship progress. Or something. *inarticulate, needs tea*

*is happy to twirl with you!* :D

[eliyes.livejournal.com]

(I kind of also really like that fact that you do an A/N 2 after the fic, too!)

*LOL* That was totally an unintentional coincidence. XD