Inferno

Bobby strolled down the street, decked out in his usual blue, purple and lemon yellow Hawaiian shirt, a pair of well-worn jeans, and purple-tinted sunglasses. Whoever said that we should look at the world through rose-tinted glasses must never have tried it’s alternative. And he was probably a bit of a fruit. That individual probably hadn’t gotten laid quite as much as Bobby in any case. He smirked, hands tucked into his pockets and humming to himself as he made his way to the techno club he was sure Jono had run to in order to angst his night away. He managed to wink or gesture at the girls he passed on the way, knowing that he was going to be loosing a big chunk of his “cruising for chicks” time by going after the disgruntled Brit.

Bobby has seen him leave the mansion in quite the stuffy British huff a while ago. Probably after watching Paige and Warren feeding each other dinner. The scene would have been quite the double blow to him. Not that he cared. Really, the only reason he was going after the poor shmuck was… was… why was he doing this again? Bobby slowed down his strut, confusion creasing his boyish face. He wasn’t going because he had any sort of feelings for Jono, that’s for sure! If he did, he’d have to turn around this instant, grab the nearest female and make a pit stop in a hotel room on the way back to Xavier’s. But he couldn’t do that, because… because he had to make sure the kid didn’t do anything stupid! That’s it, that’s why he was going. No feelings, no queer vibrations, no gay here. Adequately reassured of his own manliness, Bobby continued his leisurely strut to the club.

* * * *

Jono had to put conscious thought into not projecting his pain throughout the club. His eyes were squinted tightly shut, hands clawing at the smooth surface of the table he was bent over. He was pretty sure that every now and then a small thought of a gasp or a groan had escaped, but no one seemed to notice. No one except for Pyro, who would in response grip Jono’s hips harder and increase his thrusting. It gave Jono the sinking suspicion that the only reason he even bothered to fuck him was to get off on the pain he was causing.

Bloody sick fuckin- “AH!”

“Now now Jono… don’t go an’ hide your thoughts from me. I wanna hear ever single beautiful one.”

“Which is exactly why I’m holdin’ back, ya sick wanker.”

Pyro just laughed cruelly and thrust all the harder into him. It wasn’t so much the act that was painful. Truth be told, Jono had been in another man’s arms before. Well, maybe more than one. He’d meet people at clubs, one thing would lead to another, and before he knew it he had become quite knowledgeable about most kinds of sex. No, it was a combination of the lack of any lubrication used, the angle opted for, and the bruising ache of his hips banging against Jono’s ass. Of course, Pyro had probably planned on all this. Another cry flew from his control, resulting in the mental equivalent of a sharp intake of breath. Pyro laughed again.

John began to twist his body while pushing inwards, gyrating so that he would scrape every tender area of his victims insides. His hands held Jono just above where his legs met his hips, digging his nails into the flesh. He wondered if it was possible to bruise him? He wanted to find out. Unfortunately it was not likely since Jono had no blood, but still worth a shot. He was somewhat sad that his prey had stopped squirming as delightfully as he had been before, so he took to randomly raking his fingernails over any exposed skin or slapping him when he felt his guard had been lowered any. The little jumps that resulted were most satisfying to him, and he felt himself nearing completion.

“Now then… we’re ‘bout to wrap things up here, mate. One more thing I need from ya, though. Be a good little boy an’ say, or rather, think my name, eh?”

Jono paused, trying to beat back his mental sounds before answering, relief beginning to flood him at the thought that it would be over soon. ”… John?”

Searing pain lashed across his lower back as the switchblade slashed at him. The cut was shallow; Pyro didn’t want to chance opening up another hole in the boy, but considerably effective.

“That’s not my name. Pyro. Come on now, let’s hear it mate.”

“Pyro.”

Another slash, another bolt of agony to blur his vision.

“Keep goin’. Don’t hold back now, hear me?”

“Pyro… Pyro…” Jono couldn’t help but let his pained sarcasm seep into the thought. He wasn’t surprised when he received a third slash running down his exposed spine.

“Mean it!” He slapped the wounded portion of his back before spilling the remains of his alcohol over the cuts.

“Ung… ah… Pyro! Pyro!

“John?!”

Everything froze. The two looked up slowly to see a stunned and confused Iceman standing in front of the table. Jono cringed upon feeling the rush of fluids inside his sore ass. Pyro pulled out rather abruptly, wiping himself on the other’s exposed backside before tucking everything back where it belonged and zipping up his pants.

“Bobby?”

“Jono?”

“Bobby?”

“John?”

“Bobby?”

“Jono?”

“Bobby?”

“John?”

“Bobby?”

“Will you two bloody stop with the Rocky Horror bit! This is hardly the time or place! Bobby, I’ve just been sodding… er… well, I mean, this wasn’t something I wanted! He just… I can’t move, Bobby. He’s controlling me!” He was going to be saved by Bobby? What the hell was this world coming to?

For his part, Bobby just continued to gape at them. This didn’t make sense. Sure, he and John used to tease each other as roommates, engage in some questionable activities he’d rather not question, but he never thought his friend might be gay! And Jono, he was… he was just raped by John? Guys weren’t raped! That’s not how it worked! But then… Bobby’s head started to hurt. He fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone, quickly hitting the speed dial for the mansion.

“Hold that thought, Sparky, I’ll call the Professor in for this one.”

“No!”

Jono’s body was lifted off the table, hovering in a standing position like he was possessed by some kind of demon. Hands reached around his waist to fasten his pants back.

“As funny as it’d be ta have you attack the place with your trousers down, I think it’d seem less realistic. Now then, off you go.” Jono panicked as he felt the psionic energy inside him flare up, pushing against his wrap harder than he thought possible. It burst rather suddenly like a hot air balloon was popped, the flames shooting outwards into the crowd. Jono cringed as he saw the first group of innocent people hit and fall to the floor, some scrambling to put out the fire raging on their clothes, others simply laying limp.

“You miserable fuck! You said that-”

“And you believed me, mate? Huh. You’re significantly dimmer than that fire a’ yours, eh? I planned ta do this th’ whole time, luv.”

“Jono, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Bobby stared wide-eyed and frozen at the destruction in the club. As if everything else wasn’t confusing enough.

“Ya bleedin’ idjiot! It’s not me! I told ya Pyro was controlling me! Get- DUCK!”

Jono’s head turned towards Bobby, another blast firing from his chest and throat. Bobby dropped to the floor, barely avoiding the fire.

“Bobby! Do something, damnit! Get the Professor! Help these people get outta ‘ere! Put out the fires! Just DO something!”

Bobby looked around frantically on the floor for his cell phone, which he had dropped in the confusion but with no luck. It had already started calling the mansion, so hopefully they would get the idea. He began to herd the people to the fire exits, shouting instructions while icing over as much of the blaze as he could manage. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t…

And through all the commotion, Pyro sat cross-legged on top of the table, laughing hysterically at it all.