Body

A/N: This is a birthday present for my friend Trac! I hope you all enjoy :D


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I saw him in the shower last week. I shouldn’t have been looking and I didn’t mean to, but I didn’t think anyone was in there, so I pushed open the door and he was standing under the shower jet, completely nude. Of course, he was nude, it was the shower!

I backed out of there as fast as I could, and I still don’t know if he knows I saw him. He hasn’t said anything at least, but you never know with him. He could be waiting until the perfect time to spring it on me, to embarrass me as much as possible.

God, just thinking about it makes me blush. It shouldn’t affect me this much, should it? I mean, I’ve seen other guys in the shower before. I am a guy! He’s my roommate. There shouldn’t be anything embarrassing about that.

Then why do I feel like someone’s shoved a pillow down my throat every time I think about it?

He had a nice body… a really nice body. His skin was tanned, even the parts he normally keeps covered with a shirt. I wonder if maybe he tans on his own. No, he’s not that vain, is he? No, I’m being stupid. He doesn’t care what he looks like.

He always wears those ugly combat boots and they make a huge clunking noise whenever he walks. I can hear him coming a mile away. He usually wears tee shirts, but they’re so old that the material is really thin and stretches over his chest, which brings me back to how did I not know he was so hot?

No! Not hot, good-looking. He’s not exactly built like Peter or anything, but he’s not a skinny white boy either. From what I could see… not that I was looking… he’s got some definition in his stomach. I wonder what it would be like to touch him… I wonder if his skin is hotter because of his mutation.

Mine is colder, I know that. Everyone always shivers when I touch them. I’ve gotten used to it. I don’t even notice the temperature difference, but sometimes he wakes me up in the middle of the night to tell me it’s cold. I think sometimes my dreams subconsciously affect my powers.

“It’s fucking cold in here, Drake,” he whispers in the dark those nights he’s forced to get up and shake me awake.

This happened the other day, you know, after the Shower Incident, as I’ve come to call it. I literally froze… Okay, not literally because I probably could. His hand was on my shoulder and it felt so warm.

My thoughts drifted to what he did with that hand. It was his right hand, the one he always has his lighter in. I could smell the faint whiff of lighter fluid from his hand. He’s never without his lighter.

He shook my shoulder again, a little rougher this time. I think he didn’t think I was awake.

I’d mumbled a sorry and turned over, hoping he hadn’t noticed the appendage in my lower body that was making itself clearer the longer he touched me.

There was a pause and then I heard him turn and walk back to his bed, sliding under the covers.

“Just keep an eye on your powers, Iceman,” he murmured and I could tell he was falling back asleep.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite as easy for me to fall asleep. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the thoughts of his hands and just what he could use them for other than manipulating fire out of my head.

It got so bad that about ten minutes after John had fallen asleep again, I got up as quietly as I could and slipped into the adjoining bathroom. I knew it was safer in here than in my bed. John tends to have really good hearing. He can hear a pin drop on the other side of the cafeteria.

So that’s why I went into the bathroom. It’s better in there than out in the room where he could wake up at any moment.

I turned on the shower, yes, that same shower that I saw him under just a few days prior, and let the water wash over me. What I really needed was a cold shower, but with my powers, that wouldn’t really do all that much good.

So I let the water get hot. I like hot showers; it’s the one time I get to feel some other temperature.

Standing under the water, my mind drifted to his body again. He had a nice long torso, tapering at the waist really nicely. His hips were narrow, but not really narrow. And just below his belly button, there was a little trail of hair leading down to his…

Oh God, I was so hard when I reached that point in my thoughts. I couldn’t help myself as my hand slid down to grasp my cock. It felt so good as I stroked it, my mind filling with thoughts of him and what he might do if it was his hand around my cock instead.

I bit back a moan as my finger slid over the head, stroking softly. I imagined it was his finger instead and that only made it worse. My head fell back against the cool tile walls as the hot water continued to rain down on me. I couldn’t help myself and gasped as my hand gave another twist on my cock.

I wanted it to be him. I wanted him in here with me, pressing me against the shower, his hand between our bodies, wrapped deliciously around my cock. I wanted his hot breath on my neck, whispering dirty words of teasing into my ear. I wanted to feel his teeth on my earlobe, sucking, licking, biting it.

I wanted his hand in my hair as he bit my neck, telling me exactly what he wanted to do to me with those strong hands of his.

With a groan and an arch, I came. I bit down on my tongue to stop making anymore noise. My eyes were closed as I came, my mind full of thoughts of his wicked smirk, that smirk that told me he knew exactly what I wanted.

When I opened my eyes, I realized I was alone and in the shower at one in the fucking morning. This was getting out of hand. I finished the shower and crept back to my bed, feeling like a naughty teenager who’d sneaked out in the middle of the night.

I couldn’t tell if he was awake or not, but I didn’t want to know. I’d at least like to pretend that he didn’t know.

He didn’t say anything the next morning, so I’ve been trying not to think about it. If he knew, if he knew what I was thinking, doing, he would probably think I was crazy.

I guess it’s no real secret that I don’t like girls, and he certainly knows it, but I’ve never actually dated a guy. I’m not a virgin either, but that’s different.

When I told Rogue, I think she freaked out a little. It was kind of obvious, though. I mean, why else would I date a girl I couldn’t even touch? She’s gotten used to it by now. She even tried to set me up with someone.

But I said no. Why? Because currently, my mind is only on one person, no matter how unattainable or stupid this idea may be. I can’t help thinking about his body. It’s not like I haven’t seen other guys naked. Hello, guys change and shower around each other all the time. Why haven’t I looked at one of them? Why did it have to be my roommate?

It’s been a week and he still hasn’t said anything. Maybe he really doesn’t know, and I’m just blowing this out of proportion. Maybe he hasn’t noticed a thing. I can only hope, right?

I’ve been watching him a lot. I can’t help it. He sits next to me in every class, across from me at lunch, and we fucking live together! How could I not? I’ve noticed that he’s very fidgety. His lighter is never missing from his right hand and when he has it, it’s always moving, either rolling it through his fingers, touching it to his lips, which, by the way, have got to be the sexiest lips I’ve ever seen, or he’s flipping it open time and again.

He plays with the lighter during class, during mealtimes, when he’s stuck on a homework problem. Granted, he doesn’t do homework very often, but still, it happens when he does.

He has three names for me; Drake, Iceman, and Bobby. He calls me Drake when he’s annoyed, Iceman when he wants to tease me or make light of a situation, and Bobby when he’s too distracted to think of the others, or when he just doesn’t care. I wonder what he would call me if we were to…

No, don’t think about that. It’s not going to help. The only way to get him out of my mind is to not think about him at all. I don’t know, though. It’s been a week and all I can think about is what his hands might feel like sliding up my torso, and what he tastes like, if he’s a hard kisser or soft. I wonder if he tastes like ash. That’s a stupid notion, but his power is fire, so maybe it’s not so ridiculous.

Fire and ice, what a cliché. But why can’t I stop thinking about him? Every time he sits down next to me, I just want so badly to lean over and kiss him. I want his hand to slide onto my thigh comfortably, a warm, heavy weight. I want him to lean over and kiss my neck softly.

Why do I want this? I don’t know. I’ve never been in a real relationship, unless you count Rogue, and I never even kissed her.

A week. That’s how long it’s been since I saw his body, the curve of his back as it sloped down over his rounded ass. It was a nice ass. His thighs looked strong and I wonder every night what it might be like to slide my hands up them.

I’ve found myself taking more and more showers in the middle of the night as the week has progressed. For some reason, I just can’t get the images out of my head and they’re stuck there until I find some way to release them.

I can’t tell him about this. No, he would think I was crazy. He’s Pyro. He does whatever he wants and doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else. I don’t know much about his sexuality. We may be friends, but it’s not like he tells me who he fucks. We don’t have that kind of a relationship.

I suppose he could be gay, but what would that change? I’m still Bobby and he’s still John. We’ve been friends ever since we came to the Mansion. I’ve seen him at his lowest points and he’s seen me at mine. How could I change that in just a few words?

Well, when it wakes me up in the middle of the night, straining against my boxers, it makes me reconsider. I wish it would go away, but I can’t seem to make it.

A week and half has gone by now and he still hasn’t said a word. I swear, I don’t know what’s worse; wondering if he really knows or hoping that maybe he does.

I’m trying to eat my lunch, but he’s taken the seat across from me. This is usual, but today, he isn’t eating. Instead, he’s decided to stare at me, it seems.

“Yeah?” I ask. I don’t really want to know why he’s staring at me, but something about it is off-putting.

There’s a pause and he takes out his lighter. My eyes are immediately drawn to his hands because, of course, they are a part of that sinuous body I can’t get out of my mind. He flicks it open and watches the flame for half a second before snapping it shut.

“You’ve been watching me.” His tone isn’t accusatory, but there’s something else behind it. I’m not sure what it is, but it makes me nervous.

“What do you mean?” I ask playfully, stabbing my carrots. I’m avoiding his eyes because I’m afraid of what I might see there. So he does know. He knows I’ve been watching him, but does he know why?

“Taken any midnight showers lately?” He does know.

My head snaps up and I nearly collide with his chin, he’s so close. I can see mischief dancing in his hazel eyes as he looks at me. After a quick glance around, I realize no one’s paying the slightest bit of attention to us.

When I look back at him, his face has moved back an inch or two, but the sparkle isn’t gone from his eyes and now a mischievous smile is playing at the corner of his mouth.

I don’t know what’s going on, but his behavior is odd. I didn’t expect him to react like this. In fact, I hadn’t even been sure that he’d known.

All of a sudden, I’m on my feet and his hand is gripping my wrist. He leads me forcefully out of the cafeteria, only letting go when we reach our room. I rub my arm where he’d had it and follow him in slowly.

He’s plunked down on his bed and lit a cigarette, even though he knows they’re not allowed. I stand awkwardly by the door. Finally, he looks up at me, the cig hanging from his mouth.
He takes it out and smirks, standing up.

“For an Iceman, you’re not very cool,” he says, flicking ash off the end of a cigarette as he moves closer to me.

“For a fire mutant, you certainly are.” I don’t know how I’m keeping my head as he moves toward me, his hips swaying slightly, almost teasingly. I can feel a lump growing in my throat as he saunters towards me casually, only stopping to crush out his cigarette in the ash tray he keeps in one of his drawers.

“You’ve been staring at me all week, disappearing in the middle of the night to take showers, and,” he pauses, glancing down at his lighter, “you won’t stop staring at my hands.”

My gaze snaps back to his face, realizing that he is completely right. I just can’t help it! His body has been in my head all week and I would do anything, anything, to get it out!

“So?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. He knows my secret. It’s over! What am I going to do? What is he going to do?

He’s moving closer, his body moving gracefully, despite the clunky army boots. A few feet from me, he stops, slipping them off and kicking them to the side. He’s shorter without them, but still taller than me by about two inches.

He’s about that far away from me now, two inches separating he and I. He must know what this is doing to me. I’m nervous, really nervous. Of course, that doesn’t stop my body from reacting badly in the situation. Despite the possibility that he may be about to tell me he wants to move out, my cock thinks it’s appropriate to harden immeasurably.

I swallow thickly as I stare at his face. His arm moves and I see that he’s tossed aside his lighter. He’s never without his lighter.

I swear I’m shaking as he lifts his hands and one goes to my jaw, sliding down it to my neck. I’m staring at him in earnest now, well aware that he knows exactly what’s going on. Both of his hands are on my neck now and they do feel warm, just like I imagined.

My breathing is uneven as he pulls me forward a little and I take a jolting step forward, coming into close contact with his body. His eyes are so close and from this distance I can see the flecks of gold and green that come with hazel eyes. Usually, his eyes are dark from far away, looking almost brown, but not now. Now they’re a beautiful mixture of colors.

I’m too preoccupied with his eyes to realize that his lips are coming closer and in a second, they’re pressed to mine; soft, warm, and moist. My eyes are drifting closed and I allow his probing tongue into my mouth.

It feels so good as his tongue slides into my mouth, moving against my tongue and running over my lower lip. But I want to taste him, I want know to know what it feels like, so I take over the kiss, pushing back into his mouth. He lets me and I can taste him.

He doesn’t taste like ash as I thought. He tastes a little like peppermint; a spicy kick that I always thought would be there. I take my time feeling out his mouth. I want to remember this in case it never happens again.

He seems to have let me have my turn, because he’s taken over the kiss again and I’m lost to his touch.

His hands have moved. One has slid into my hair, tugging on it as I moan softly. The other is sliding down my body, over my waist and to my hip where it rests for a moment.

He’s moving me, guiding me around as we continue kissing. The kiss is no longer soft and tentative. I want it and I want to show him that. My hands are around his neck as he turns me around. I’m making all sorts of embarrassing moans and whimpers as he kisses me, but I really don’t care. All I know is that I want him, and I’m not going to let this moment pass.

I’m surprised as I hit the bed and fall backwards onto it, pulling him down with me. I break the kiss for a moment in my surprise, plus I need air. He staring down at me, panting, and there’s a gleam in his eye I’ve never seen before.

I don’t really have much time to contemplate it, though, as he moves forward, kissing me long and hard again. Not that I’m complaining. My hand is on his back, grasping the thin material of his shirt. I want to feel what’s underneath, that’s what I want. I want all my fantasies to come true.

His hands are under my shirt, running over my muscles and dancing up my torso. My shirt is pushed up to my chin as he’s kissing me, nipping and biting at my mouth. So he is a biter. I wondered.

Slowly, he works his way away from my mouth, kissing down my jaw, over my neck, past my collar bone, and down my chest until he reaches my nipples. I nearly scream when he takes one between his teeth, then laves it with his tongue, licking and sucking the sensitive nub.

My body is writhing beneath him, practically begging for his touch. His hands have pushed my shirt up and I scramble to take it off completely, finally throwing it into a corner.

I don’t think it’s fair that I’m the only shirtless one, so I hoist him back up, forcing him to abandon his work on my chest. I kiss him again, feeling suddenly shy, and my hands slide to the waist of his shirt, slowly stripping it off him.

“Want a replay of the shower?” he asks me and I can hear the smugness in his voice. He knew I saw, knew I was watching him all week. He knew what I was doing in the shower at one in the morning.

“Maybe after,” I say, trying to keep control of my voice that is wavering and breathless. “Right now, I just want you out of those jeans.”

He smirks at me and I hope I haven’t gone too far, but I’m already too far gone to care at this point.

“If mine go, so do yours.”

I’m all for it at this point and scramble to take off my jeans. My fingers are fumbling with the buttons, tripping over themselves in my haste. Finally, I get them undone and try to push them off, but I’m stopped by John’s fingers. They push mine away and slowly, teasingly, slide my jeans off and toss them to the floor.

His jeans are already gone, much faster and smoother than mine were. I bet he’s not as nervous.

I lay back on the bed, gasping as his fingers trail over my inner thigh, coming so agonizingly close to my aching cock. I just want release.

My boxers are gone in a second and his fingers are sliding over my thigh, inching closer and closer to my hard cock.

His mouth is on my collar bone again, trailing kisses up my neck to my ear. I tremble as he reaches it, remembering some of my dirtier fantasies. His tongue is on my earlobe, his teeth pulling it into his mouth for a second before releasing it and he shifts closer.

I can feel his erection pressing against my thigh now and I know I’m not alone. He wants this as much as I do. My hand has snaked to his lower back, sliding over his hot, smooth skin. I want to arch my body, press closer, feel some kind of release to the pressure in my cock.

I shift restlessly as he breathes on my ear.

“So tell me why you’ve been watching me, Bobby,” he whispers. “What did you want from that? My body pressed hard against yours, my hand on your cock, stroking you just the way you like? What, Bobby?”

His voice is so low and full of lust it’s hard to concentrate. Even if he acts like he’s not affected, I can tell he is. His breathing is uneven and his breath is hot on my ear. One of his hands has pinned my free one to the bed by my head as he waits for my answer.

“God, John,” I gasp, pressing my body upward into his, feeling the delicious friction as I rub against him. “Yes, yes, that’s what I want.”

His hand releases my own and tilts my head back as he presses a hot kiss to my neck. He doesn’t answer me as he slides down my body, finally sitting up and reaching over to his bedside table.

I hear the crinkling of plastic and my cock twitches, I’ve been waiting for this. God, I want this so badly right now.

My body tenses as he slides a finger into me. He’s back by my ear, whispering all sorts of things in it. I don’t hear half of them as he slides in a second finger. His other hand is in my hair, stroking it back as he stretches me with his other hand.

Then his fingers are gone and something much larger is being pressed into my body. I groan as he pushes his cock all the way in. My body moves up to his for better angling and my legs are over his shoulders.

“Okay, Bobby?” he asks quietly. I can tell he’s trying to hold on. His voice is harsh and uneven, like he’s trying to control himself.

I nod yes, not trusting myself to speak and he begins to move, thrusting slowly until he’s sure that it doesn’t hurt. No, it doesn’t hurt; it feels incredible to have him inside my body. I can’t believe this is happening.

My hips are thrusting upward, slamming with his as he slides back in, harder and faster than before. My breaths are coming in gasps as he thrusts deep inside my body.

I gasp his name as I feel my body clench. I almost cry out but his lips are on mine and it’s lost to his sweet mouth. I break away when I can’t stand it any longer and desperately need air. I ride out my climax to its end, never wanting it to stop.

Moments later, John’s coming. I watch his face as he does and think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, aside from his body, that is.

He collapses soon after, falling on the bed and letting out a long breath. I listen to him breathe for a minute, short and quick. I glance over and see his chest rising and falling as his breathing slowly returns to normal.

Finally, I roll over on top of him. He’s staring up at me, an eyebrow raised and that same devious smirk on his face from before.

“So you’ve been watching me?” I ask.

He looks thoughtful for a second, then nods, grinning. He grabs me around the neck and pulls me down on top of him.

“You’re not quite as covert as you think you are, Iceman,” he says playfully, his arm slipping down around my waist.

“Well, I—“

“Don’t try to deny it,” John says, yawning. “Just accept that there’s always somebody watching you just as much as you’re watching them.”

I didn’t say anything for a minute, thinking it over. So John had been watching me? I guess it wasn’t such a bad thing I’d walked in on him in the shower after all.

“I’m glad it was you,” I say quietly.

“Me too,” John mumbles and I can tell he’s falling asleep. I don’t say anything, just reach down and grab a sheet that had been kicked to the foot earlier, and pull it up over us. I settle down against his chest, closing my eyes and sighing happily to myself.

Next time, I won’t run away when I walk in on him in the shower. Maybe next time, he’ll ask me to join…


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A/N: Please review!