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FIC: By Firelight: 1/1: NC-17: Bobby, Bobby/St. John

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  • jenn
    Title: By Firelight Author: jenn (jenn@igg-tx.net) Series: Love and Lust Outtake, coda to Elemental Codes: Bobby, St. John/Bobby, PWP Rating: NC-17,
    Message 1 of 1 , Aug 10, 2002
      Title: By Firelight
      Author: jenn (jenn@...)
      Series: Love and Lust Outtake, coda to Elemental
      Codes: Bobby, St. John/Bobby, PWP
      Rating: NC-17, slash, PWP
      Summary: Boys beside fire. With nakedness.
      Author Notes: Fulfilling a request to do a Bobby POV. I miss the boys a
      Archiving: If you've got permission, use it.
      Disclaimer: I want to buy them now. So far, Marvel's not interested,
      though. Dammit. So no, they're not mine yet.


      Johnny moves like he has no idea that puberty is supposed to suck. It's
      always been like that though--one of those thousand things Bobby's stopped
      being surprised about. His body is his own, totally and
      completely--sometimes, Bobby thinks it's compensation for his mutation, the
      control he hasn't quite perfected over the heat that runs under his skin.
      Like something living is always trying to claw its way out.

      Faded red t-shirt from the bottom of the drawer, grey-white stains of
      nitrous and formaldehyde on the edges from Johnny's bombs. Jeans shiny with
      age that Dr. Grey would have thrown out if Johnny didn't take such pains to
      hide them in a slot beneath the bed, with the anime from Hong Kong that he
      and Bobby have been collecting since last year. Black market uranium
      exchanged for black market cartoons with super high violence ratings. Very
      cool. They've shared clothes forever, even after Bobby's run-in with
      adolescence jumped their heights and weights apart--t-shirts are the staple
      of American teenage life, and it's always been extra large, even when Johnny
      was thirteen. He hid in his clothes then, though, like they could protect
      him from the world.

      He has Bobby for that now, but he'll never admit it.

      But God--the way he moves. Like liquid, like gravity is an option and not a
      requirement, and Bobby can watch him for hours and just *enjoy* him. Fine
      smooth lines of muscle pulling over his back and arms, the way he turns his
      head and tosses back a grin, the mess of thick dirty-blond hair he won't cut
      that falls in his eyes like a shield or a place to hide behind. Light skin
      that burns as easily as Bobby's, but at least he tans. Pale gold now at the
      end of summer, fading lighter on chest and thighs. Alight tonight like
      something in him is awake, and the dying fire outlines him all in dark red
      and rich orange. Happy like he's never been before, ever.

      He's beautiful, but he'll never believe it.

      "Hey, Bobby." Bright smile, just for Bobby, nothing in the clear blue eyes
      but pleasure. All defenses down, and no one gets this, this one thing that
      makes Bobby different from anyone else. Not just the focus that he thrives
      on--but just *that*. It's trust and it's five years of friendship and it's
      also sex but not really, even though Bobby gets hard just from the sound of
      his voice sometimes. Faint traces of Australia that show up so rarely but
      he listens for anyway.

      Open mouth kiss to the back of Johnny's neck--fine, soft skin, just the
      color of cream, never gets touched by weather. Noses too-long hair out of
      the way to lick a little--soap and ash from the fire, traces of wood-smoke
      and whatever aftershave he tossed on without paying attention. Feels the
      full-body shiver he gets for it, licks to get another. Sun's going down,
      and even this close to the fire, he can feel the first cool breeze of the

      "You ready to roll?" he asks, sliding an arm around the slim body. All
      coiled muscle beneath warm skin, years of training written into every line.
      He loves the way Johnny leans back against him, the trail of short blunt
      nails over his arm, catching on the back of his hand. Fingers sliding
      through his, easy intimacy that he can't quite believe he has.

      "In a few," Johnny answers, and Bobby hears the grin in his voice. "Waiting
      for the fire to go down."

      "You could--extinguish it." Licks a little line over the side of his neck,
      feeling the jump of Johnny's pulse beneath his tongue, the jump of the fire
      in his peripheral vision. Interesting. Johnny's breath catches, head
      leaning back into Bobby's shoulder, giving him all the access he wants.

      "Nah. Let it go on its own. It's nearly cinders. By the time the moon
      rises, it'll be out. 'Sides, I like it out here."

      It's been hours since the bonfire--everyone's spread over the campus,
      enjoying the night. Almost last night of its kind, really. Kids tonight,
      playing hide and seek in the woods. Tag across the tennis courts. If Bobby
      listens, he can hear Jubilee's laughter floating on the air. Kitty's
      giggling. Distant, there's fireworks lighting the sky brilliant and bright,
      and he hears Johnny chuckle.

      "Can we sit at least?"

      "Lazy ass." It's indulgent, and Johnny pulls away, light as air, leaving
      warmth like marks on Bobby's body where they touched. Moving toward the
      blanket left from earlier, shaking it with quick, practiced motions of his
      wrists. Laying it back down and kneeling, going for his shoes almost
      immediately. He likes grass beneath his bare feet.

      It's quieter here on the ground. Bobby curls up on the edge, watching
      Johnny draw a leg up to his chest, eyes reflecting the dancing flames. Wet
      wood wouldn't burn if Johnny hadn't taken the fire as his own, but even it
      has to give into nature eventually. Little burned circle around, almost
      perfect so the fire doesn't move farther.

      Time's weird tonight--it's five years ago and their first time sitting
      together on the lawn. Too thin, skin drawn sharp over nothing but bare
      bones, huge blue eyes behind a mess of blonde hair. Brand new clothes that
      he hid inside, pulled inside himself so deeply that Bobby almost felt alone.
      They'd watched the moonrise together with Johnny stiff and straight beside
      him, legs drawn tight to his chest. Heat around him like a halo. Flinching
      from Bobby's touch.

      Wanting to trust and too afraid to do it.

      Bobby supposes that it was the nights that won him in the end. The
      nightmares that turned their room into a furnace--waking at two in the
      morning and propping a window open, crawling into bed beside him and how
      *hot* Johnny was, the way the tears streaked his face and disappeared so
      fast, leaving nothing but lines of salt. The way Johnny let him touch him
      then--animal comfort, he thinks now, simple need for connection that Johnny
      couldn't acknowledge during the day. Thin hands balled into tight fists on
      the pillow and staring at the wall. Snuggling back against Bobby's body for
      the cool. Falling asleep finally on the fourth night, and Bobby woke up
      with the thin body wrapped tight around him and knowing he'd gotten in.

      At least a little.

      Johnny's smiling at him now. He catches his breath sometimes to see
      it--intense and *Johnny* all over again.

      "What, Allerdyce?"

      Little smirk, and Johnny leans over. Silky brush of a warm mouth, hint of a
      nip to his lip. Soft. Slow. Like that first time on Johnny's bed, the
      touch that was so familiar and so different. The way Johnny looked at him
      then, guarded, afraid and refusing to show it.

      Sweet. Bobby opens his mouth a little and Johnny leans in farther. Hand on
      his leg for balance, tongue quick and slick over his lip, tracing the line
      of his teeth. Teasingly light and still smiling.

      Pulls back a little and the night seems so dark except for Johnny, the fire
      filling his eyes. Bobby shifts closer, sliding a hand over his face. Clear
      skin, hint of stubble beneath his palm.

      "Bobby--" There's things in his voice. The things Johnny hides like his
      scars, protects like his feelings, and Bobby brushes a finger over his lips.
      Reaches down and runs a hand over his waist, rucking up the t-shirt. Soft
      skin, smooth and so warm beneath his fingers. Bobby leans more, takes that
      mouth again. Slick heat and willingness and want, just beneath. Sucks on
      Bobby's tongue and Bobby pulls back, jerks the shirt over Johnny's head and
      pushes him back into the blanket.

      So he gets aggressive sometimes. Go figure. He's eighteen.

      It's amazing still, that he gets this, and he braces himself over Johnny.
      Smooth light chest, palest line of hair Bobby likes to lick on his stomach.
      Shifts of muscle beneath the skin in the firelight. Slowly, Bobby lowers
      himself onto his elbows, feeling Johnny's hands on his back, the first flare
      of heat when his thigh brushes Johnny's erection through the jeans.
      Quick-bright and almost painful. Sexy, though. Totally.

      "Bobby--" he says again, licking his lips. Soft gasp when Bobby grinds a
      thigh down between Johnny's legs--arch of his body, revealing the line of
      his throat. There's a bruise low on his collarbone, pale and fading. Bobby
      fixes his lips there and sucks, and Johnny's hands are hot and moving fast
      over his skin, fingers digging in. "Look. I--"

      "You want to talk *now*?" Can't help grinning and Johnny laughs. Light and
      amused and a lot of other things, and Bobby shifts off beside him, keeping a
      hand on that skin.

      "Not really." Another gasp, slow and thick, and Johnny's head goes back.
      Long line of his throat that Bobby has to taste, slow and careful.
      Sensitive skin on his collarbone, along the top of his chest. "Just--we're
      sort of outside in a public place."

      "Yeah." There's this delicious spot on Johnny's shoulder--tiny dip in the
      skin, invisible except to Bobby's tongue. He can't help leaning down and
      licking it and hears the soft catch of his breath and smiles against warm
      skin. Fingers are tangling in his hair, pulling half-heartedly, and he
      applies his teeth, scraping gently.

      "And you're getting a kink for exhibitionism?" Johnny laughs, pushes a
      thigh between Bobby's legs. Deliberate grind, and he can't help but thrust
      down, hearing his own low moan over the crackle of the fire. "Go Drake."

      Yeah, whatever. It's been a week since he touched this body. A fucking
      *week* with lots of silences and long meaningful looks before Johnny started
      running and hiding again, standard issue response to stress and *so* not a
      surprise. Remembering that, Bobby twists his leg through Johnny's,
      grinning. Not quite strong enough to push Bobby off if he tries to get
      away. No way in hell he's going to, ever again.

      Bobby's learned his lessons on the elusive quality of his lover, and rule
      one, keep him in place. It's just easier that way.

      Long fingers tangle through his, pulling gently, and Bobby looks up. Bright
      hot smile, and it has to be his imagination that the fire's getting hotter,
      probably just Johnny's skin. So much of it. Easy thing to sit up, pulling
      his shirt off and throwing it aside, and Bobby catches the instant dilation
      of the blue eyes looking at him.

      "You know, we're young. We're still developing our kinks," Bobby answers
      reasonably. Johnny's sitting up, pushing his hair back with one slim hand.
      Crawling the small space between them, straddling his thighs. Warm hands on
      his face, a mouth that Bobby would pay good money to keep exclusive access
      to, and kissing like CPR and maybe he could just die happy if this was the
      last thing he ever felt. Slow, serious grind of their bodies, but they've
      had practice to get this right.

      Johnny leans back, slow and careful, head tilted. Thumb moving over his
      cheek, mapping the skin by inches. Serious look on his face, thinking time.
      Johnny's always thinking about something, except when he's either in the
      middle of orgasm or sleeping, and Bobby's not taking bets on the sleeping

      "You're gorgeous," Johnny says softly, staring down at him. "You just--"
      Little sucked breath and Bobby drops his hands to Johnny's hips. Cool denim
      under his finger, sliding to the buttons. Keeps a clear view Johnny's face
      as he unfastens each one, knuckles brushing the line of boxers beneath.
      Familiar feel, and Bobby glances down to make sure and grins.

      "My boxers. Who is getting kinky again?" Can't help leaning forward,
      tasting the shoulder so close, and Johnny's arms slide around his neck.

      "Forgot to do laundry," Johnny mutters into his hair. Fingernails
      scratching patterns into his back. "So sue me."

      "Hey, I'm not complaining here." Crisp cotton under his fingers, and it's
      easy to slide his fingers inside, stroke the length of the cock so close.
      Johnny hisses something, sharp in the night air, nails digging into Bobby's

      There's a flare of sudden heat behind them, but Bobby can't turn to check.
      Johnny's in his mouth, fast and hard, nipping at his tongue and his lips,
      his jaw, quick, solid bites that curl through him and seem to settle low in
      his stomach and thicken.

      He pulls away and hears Johnny's low groan but simply slides his hands
      beneath the long thighs, dropping him on his back. Quick movements strip
      the jeans and boxers on the grass beside them, and okay, yeah, *this* is
      exhibitionism but that's just fine and dandy. Johnny's perfect. All his.

      "Fuck, Bobby--" Breathless laugh, and it turns into a moan when Bobby leans
      down, licking the head of his cock. Slow, thoughtful, carefully, knowing
      just how to drive Johnny out of his mind. Fingers settle in his hair,
      moving impatiently, hips arching, but Bobby has every intention of taking
      his time. "God, please--"

      Okay, maybe not.

      He loves how Johnny arches when he sucks him in, one quick swallow and he
      can feel it in his throat, all over his body. The sounds Johnny makes are
      impossibly sexy, and Bobby grins and swallows again, finding a rhythm,
      knowing just how to make this perfect. Tight fingers and little pleas,
      sounds that tear the air around them and the hips that try to follow him
      until Bobby gets both hands on them, forcing him down. The low groan makes
      him want to laugh, and he feels the shivers begin, Johnny's heel catching
      him on his thigh, desperate, frantic movements of his body, and Johnny comes
      *hard*, with a flare of heat that Bobby can feel all over his body.

      Bobby pulls off when the moans turn to whimpers, pushing himself up enough
      to see sweat-soaked hair framing shocky eyes, and the fingers in his hair
      pry themselves loose slow and easy, like Johnny's forgotten exactly how
      coordination is. Grinning, Bobby falls down beside him, curling into the
      sweaty skin so close.

      "Smug bastard."

      "Three minutes," Bobby answers, burrowing closer. Bare arms slide loosely
      around him, palm pressed to his shoulder.

      "You *timed* it?" It doesn't even sound annoyed--Johnny post-orgasm is soft
      and touchable, letting Bobby wind himself all around him.


      "Good to know." A soft, breathless laugh released on the air, and Bobby
      turns enough to see the fire's out completely. "Wanna take this inside or
      is the whole nature experience too good to pass up?"

      Bobby grins and leans down, just enough to bite at the line of Johnny's jaw.

      "Let's go."

      the end


      --If you're going to have alfresco sex, make sure it's not on a nest of fire
      ants, or at least make sure you're on topÂ…. --Te, being helpful
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