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Mmmm, darned plot bunnies
Well, believe it or not, but I've actually started on a new x-men fic (it's got nothing to do with the permutations series), just a little something to cheer myself up with. I might even try to do this one without any real sex scenes - don't get me wrong, I like sex - I've just read so much lately, that I kinda need to concentrate on something other than that.
Untitled for now
Pairing: Bobby/Remy (Iceman/Gambit)
Fandom: X-men
Rating: PG-13, I think - for now
Disclaimer - the usual - don't own them, aren't making any money - you know the drill.
Blame this on: A rather depressing Tuesday evening, spent pathetically alone, with a lot of chores that *should* have been done, but were ruthlessly skipped for this:
---
'You are *such* an idiot, Drake'
Throwing his towel on the bed, two seconds later following suit, sprawled on his back, eyes closed, Bobby sighed. 'Actually, idiot doesn't even *begin* to cover it, fuckin' moron's more like it.'
Danger-room session had gone fine, absolutely, if nothing else, it kept his mind focussed on what he was doing - instead of what he *wanted* to do. With only a skeleton crew present at the mansion, the place hadn't exactly been crowded. Deserted was more like it. He'd felt good after the workout, enjoyed the lingering feel of adrenalin. Yes… that had to be the explanation - he'd been high on adrenalin.
*Sigh*
'Just keep telling yourself that, Drake, over and over again, and maybe, just *maybe* you'll convince yourself.'
Whatever it had been, Bobby promised himself that he'd never use the communal showers of the mansion. Especially not when there was the slightest risk of running into Remy…
'Don't think about it, dammit! Nothing happened and he doesn't know - doesn't suspect.'
Bobby sighed again. He needed a shower, and time to clear his mind. Going into his own bathroom, he turned on the lights, rolling his eyes at his reflection in the mirror. Blond bangs falling down over his eyes. He needed a haircut…
The thought brought back the image… Remy hadn't been around for weeks and Bobby hadn't run into him until the shower. And for a second he hadn't recognized his team-mate. The almost shoulder long hair had been shortened. Not too much, but enough to change familiar looks. The contours of the face… sharper, chiselled… The water flowing down, darkening the short auburn hair, slicking it to the skull. Head turned upward, eyes closed, back straight, untamed wrapped in a moment of serenity…
Bobby swallowed hard and tried to scold himself for sounding like a bad poet. The memory, though, the memory of Remy in the shower, naked… He really should have left at that point, instead of staring at the mesmerizing display in front of him.
Back turned to the door, muscular body relaxed. Wonderfully shaped shoulders, not too broad or bulky, tanned skin - equally tanned all over, as he couldn't help noticing. Pale scars here and there… Bobby couldn't move, couldn't close his eyes, as Remy began turning around, blinking water out of his eyes.
That's all Bobby saw, as he finally regained control of his body - well, more or less, and fled the room, not stopping until he'd closed his own door.
Another sigh left him as he stepped into the hot spray. Figures he'd go and fall for a guy who was 110% straight. Sure, Remy would flirt shamelessly with anything that had a pulse, but from there to actually doing anything that had a pulse, including Bobby, was an entirely different thing.
Against his will, Bobby's mind returned to it's heart's obsession. And with that his body reacted to it as well. Bobby looked down and rolled his eyes. 'Oh God, no.' Why was this happening to him? Why not to someone else? How could he meet those red eyes with the knowledge that it was those he saw every time he closed his? A strangled noise escaped him. 'Someone up there hates me…'
TBC
Untitled for now
Pairing: Bobby/Remy (Iceman/Gambit)
Fandom: X-men
Rating: PG-13, I think - for now
Disclaimer - the usual - don't own them, aren't making any money - you know the drill.
Blame this on: A rather depressing Tuesday evening, spent pathetically alone, with a lot of chores that *should* have been done, but were ruthlessly skipped for this:
---
'You are *such* an idiot, Drake'
Throwing his towel on the bed, two seconds later following suit, sprawled on his back, eyes closed, Bobby sighed. 'Actually, idiot doesn't even *begin* to cover it, fuckin' moron's more like it.'
Danger-room session had gone fine, absolutely, if nothing else, it kept his mind focussed on what he was doing - instead of what he *wanted* to do. With only a skeleton crew present at the mansion, the place hadn't exactly been crowded. Deserted was more like it. He'd felt good after the workout, enjoyed the lingering feel of adrenalin. Yes… that had to be the explanation - he'd been high on adrenalin.
*Sigh*
'Just keep telling yourself that, Drake, over and over again, and maybe, just *maybe* you'll convince yourself.'
Whatever it had been, Bobby promised himself that he'd never use the communal showers of the mansion. Especially not when there was the slightest risk of running into Remy…
'Don't think about it, dammit! Nothing happened and he doesn't know - doesn't suspect.'
Bobby sighed again. He needed a shower, and time to clear his mind. Going into his own bathroom, he turned on the lights, rolling his eyes at his reflection in the mirror. Blond bangs falling down over his eyes. He needed a haircut…
The thought brought back the image… Remy hadn't been around for weeks and Bobby hadn't run into him until the shower. And for a second he hadn't recognized his team-mate. The almost shoulder long hair had been shortened. Not too much, but enough to change familiar looks. The contours of the face… sharper, chiselled… The water flowing down, darkening the short auburn hair, slicking it to the skull. Head turned upward, eyes closed, back straight, untamed wrapped in a moment of serenity…
Bobby swallowed hard and tried to scold himself for sounding like a bad poet. The memory, though, the memory of Remy in the shower, naked… He really should have left at that point, instead of staring at the mesmerizing display in front of him.
Back turned to the door, muscular body relaxed. Wonderfully shaped shoulders, not too broad or bulky, tanned skin - equally tanned all over, as he couldn't help noticing. Pale scars here and there… Bobby couldn't move, couldn't close his eyes, as Remy began turning around, blinking water out of his eyes.
That's all Bobby saw, as he finally regained control of his body - well, more or less, and fled the room, not stopping until he'd closed his own door.
Another sigh left him as he stepped into the hot spray. Figures he'd go and fall for a guy who was 110% straight. Sure, Remy would flirt shamelessly with anything that had a pulse, but from there to actually doing anything that had a pulse, including Bobby, was an entirely different thing.
Against his will, Bobby's mind returned to it's heart's obsession. And with that his body reacted to it as well. Bobby looked down and rolled his eyes. 'Oh God, no.' Why was this happening to him? Why not to someone else? How could he meet those red eyes with the knowledge that it was those he saw every time he closed his? A strangled noise escaped him. 'Someone up there hates me…'
TBC