Disclaimer: Closest-thing-to-bishounen-America's-got Kurt and the lovely and amazing Toad-Boy belong to Marvel, the I think WB, and probably bunches of other wonderful peoples. So do anyone else mentioned herein. We don't own them, we're just kleptos who intend no harm and will return them when we're done. Please dun hurt us.
SLASH DISCLAIMER: This...is...SLASH. Ever seen Boy Meets Boy? That's what this is, only in this case it's Elf meets Toad, with plenty of other pairings probably thrown in in the near future. If the thought of boys loving boys (and kissing boys and touching boys etc. etc.) makes you make little sicky noises, you probably want to go somewhere else.
Feedback: Thoroughly glomped.
Flames: Treated with the same loving care you'd expect from one Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. P.S. For those unfamiliar with him, the name should give you some clue as to what kind of care that is.
Because I Got High
3pm: one of the busiest times of any weekday as children and teenagers crowd the streets, fleeing the horrible prison known as school. It's a commuter's nightmare: shoulder to shoulder movement on the sidewalks, traffic jams, road rage ruling supreme. Of course, Pietro Maximoff didn't have to worry about any of that; he'd been home since a minute after the last school bell rang, which was (he looked at the clock and smirked) about fifteen minutes ago. He mock-frowns and laments, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Poor Alvers is probably stuck in traffic. It must really suck not to be me." Snickering, he plops himself on the sofa and turns the TV on, incessently flipping through every channel before settling on some sleezy talk show featuring a drunken man who'd apparently slept with his sister-in-law's husband's dog without realizing it. "Ah yes, wholesome American entertainment," he scoffs. Suddenly, a distinct ringing sound echoes in the kitchen and Pietro tilts his head, suspiciously eyeing the direction from whence it came. Nobody ever called the boarding house...
..except for Kitty.
Lips contorting to a devilish grin, Pietro leaps off of the couch (TV forgotten), zips into the kitchen, and delicately picks up the phone. He clears his throat, preparing to use a falsetto. "You've reached the Brothers of Bayville Boarding House, this is Lance's whore of the week speaking, howmayIhelpyou?" He idly examines his nails as he speaks.
It takes Kurt a moment to register the identity of the voice on the other end of the line, but as soon as he does panic kicks in. He'd thought 15 minutes gave Todd enough time to get home, but somehow the idea that someone else might answer hadn't crossed his mind. His first instinct is to hang up the phone; he squashes that impulse quickly, swallows hard, and prays Maximoff doesn't recognize his voice. Right. Fat chance. "Eh...can I talk to Todd, please."
Pietro blinks, pulls the receiver away, and glares at it questioningly for a moment before returning it to his ear. "You're not Kitty," he points out, voice back to normal. "You're that freak whose boxers stick out of his pants! Where do you get your fashion tips, man, Losers.com?"
"You're right, I'm not Kitty. You ARE quick." Kurt rolls his eyes. "Could you just put Todd on the phone, please."
Pietro reclines against the counter, twirling the phone cord through his fingers. "Why?"
"We were going to swap recipes, why do you think?" Kurt growls. "Just give him the phone."
"Ohhh touchy, aren't we? All right, I'll give him the phone," he says, smirking. "Just as soon as you tell me what you guys were up to during lunch today."
Kurt cringes. He really doesn't need this right now, especially not from Maximoff. "I don't see how it's any of your business."
"Oh, so it's personal then?" He grins darkly, idly spinning a steak knife that'd been left out on the counter. He recalls the way Kurt had looked at Todd earlier, the X-Geek's eyes much gentler when compared to the death glare he'd been sending Lance. And the way his voice had softened... "HOW personal?"
"Fuck!" Kurt curses under his breath. "If you just HAVE to know, we got roped into doing a project together in Mr. Lipnicki's class. It's not personal, nothing's going on, now would you give him the phone and stop wasting my time?" The excuse sounds lame even to his own ears, but Kurt can't think clearly enough to come up with something better through the fog of panic clouding his mind.
Pietro snorts, not making the slightest attempt to stifle his laughter. "Riiight. And that's why Lance said this was, and I quote, 'some serious shit,' hmm? C'mon, fuzzball, do you take me for some kind of idiot? You and Toadie-boy aren't even in Mr. Lipnicki's class at the same time." He pauses for a second and flicks the steak knife, watching it fly across the counter top. "Did you fuck him or something?" he rather nonchalantly asks, though the hint of amusement in his voice makes it hard to tell if he's joking or not. His grin widens with smug satisfaction as the knife plummets into the sink, clattering into the garbage disposal. /Score./
'How the fuck?' Kurt's heart is somewhere in the vicinity of his knees now. He struggles to maintain a casually irritated tone, knowing he's failing miserably. "What the hell is your problem, man?"
Pietro purposely ignores the voice on the other end of the phone, except for noting its change in tone. God, X-Geeks were fun to fuck with. "Naaah, that couldn't have been it," he ammends. "You're definitely a bottom. Did he fuck you, then?"
Kurt sputters, mind going totally blank. He takes a deep breath, and runs his hand through his hair. 'He's just trying to get a reaction, he can't possibly know...' "I am so not having this conversation with you. Would you give the damn phone to him or should I just hang up right now?"
Pietro glances at the clock; the rest of the Brotherhood should be home any minute now. Until then, however, Kurt is still his to play with and boy, is he ever fun to play with. He plans on milking the moment for all it's worth. Ain't his fault if the fuzzball gets flustered and hangs up. "Wait, wait! We gotta compare notes, Wagner! Did you think he was good in bed? I'd give him a five, but that thing he does with his tongue... oh yeah. Ten for creativity."
'Oh god'...Kurt tries desperately to force down the thoughts that was giving him. Now is definitely not the time. "You're sick, man, seriously sick."
Pietro grins, trying to hide the chuckle in his voice. "Sick? Moi?" Mock-offense. "Obviously, you haven't sampled the pleasure that a long, prehensile tongue can provide." /And who would want to? Icky./ "Anyway, he's not home yet. I think he and Lance are off screwing somewhere, but I'll be sure to let him know that you're waiting for sloppy seconds as soon as he gets back."
"After all that, you're telling me he's not even THERE?! Why you, you- ARGH!" Kurt pulls the phone away from his ear and glares at it with a frustrated yell. His fingers make desperate strangling motions around it for a few moments, before he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm down. Gingerly he puts the phone back to his ear. "Screw this. I'm hanging up."
Lance chooses this opportune moment to walk in, and raises an eyebrow at seeing what Pietro's doing. "Who's on the phone?"
Pietro jumps at the sound of Lance's voice; he hadn't even heard the front door open. Smiling broadly, he holds up a finger to shush the other Brotherhood member and whispers into the phone, "Hey wait, they're back now! Alvers must've had a premature eruption." Snickering, he turns to look at his teammate and sees Todd not too far behind, gawking and looking a tad greener than usual. "Hey Tolensky, your boyfriend's on the phone!" Pietro holds the receiver out, smiling just a bit too sweetly.
Todd just stares at the phone. He'd really like to die right now. No wait, first he'd like to kick Pietro in the nuts, then die. Yes. Prioritize, Tolensky.
"What?!" Lance grabs for the phone, trying to keep it out of Todd's reach.
"Maximoff? Maximoff, give Todd the phone, damn it," Kurt cringes. If Lance gets there first...
Todd blinks when he sees Lance try to snatch the phone away. Damnit, he KNEW telling Kurt to call was a bad idea... Jumping up, he tries to grab at the phone before his teammate can, but Pietro--being the quick bastard that he is--swiftly pulls the receiver out of both of their reaches.
"Hey, hey, one at a time!" the speed demon shouts, now on the other side of the kitchen, phone in hand, cord pulled taut. "Damn, you're Mr. Popular tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles into the receiver.
The speedster just got on Kurt's last nerve, and he loses it. "Pietro! I swear if you don't give that phone to Todd I'm going to teleport that swelled head off your scrawny body!"
Pietro guffaws. "SCRAWNY? You're one to talk, Mr. Skinny Bone Jones. And I'd like to see you--ACK!" He quickly dodges to the left to avoid the Toad that has decided to launch itself at him. "I'll give him the phone as soon as he stops attacking me!" Darting atop the kitchen table, he holds the receiver in the air. "Go fetch!" he shouts, releasing his grip and watching as the cord springs back to its original length and takes the phone with it. He winces as it hits the ground, hoping it didn't break (it's their only phone, after all, aside from the one in Mystique's room, and they ain't touching THAT). Satisfied that it's still in one piece, he eyes the other boys intently, wondering who'll get the phone first.
Todd cautiously regards Lance, trying to guess his next move as he himself crouches down, ready to make a jump for the phone.
Lance tries to stare Todd down. He's closer to the phone, but with the speed of Todd's jump it'll be a near thing...he makes a mad dive for the receiver.
Todd leaps forward the second Lance dives, his body colliding with the floor at the end of his jump. His hand brushes the phone and just as he's about to grab it and grin triumphantly, a larger hand wraps around it and snatches it away. "Aw, fuck.."
"Oooh, so CLOSE, Tolensky," Pietro tsks, shaking his head as he kneels on the table. "I was rootin' for you, I really was."
Todd promptly flips him off, at which Pietro pouts indignantly, placing his hands on his hips. "Fine. See if I embellish YOUR sexual performance again..." The words fall on deaf ears as the younger mutant pushes himself to his knees, worried eyes trained firmly on Lance.
Lance glares at no one in particular as he ignores Todd, and picks up the phone. "Fuzzy, what do you think you're doing?"
"Shit," Kurt puts a hand over his eyes and shakes his head, releasing the breath he swears he'd been holding the entire time. Of course things couldn't be easy..."Talking on the phone, apparently, and watching my blood pressure rise. Did you blab to Pietro or is he just fixated on thoughts of Todd's sex life?"
Todd gets to his feet and slinks to Lance's side, trying to catch the boy's eyes and silently plead to hand him the phone.
Pietro watches the scene with fascination. Who needs TV when you've got your own soap opera unfolding right in your kitchen? If popcorn didn't take so long to make (two and a half minutes?! What a gyp! Someone needs to invent InstaPop), he'd definitely have a bowl-full in front of him, ready for munching. Instead, he sits cross-legged on the middle of the table, amusing himself by humming the tune to 'The Young and the Restless.'
Todd's creeping up beside Lance but he continues to ignore him, pausing only to give him a stern glare. "Never mind Pietro. Why the hell are you calling? Why don't you just hang up the phone like a good little boy and go back to playing with your perfect little friends. We don't want you around, you got me?"
Kurt's fur bristles, and he starts pacing irritably, his tail twitching. "You know, I wish I could. But I can't. And I'm sorry to intrude on your happy little life, but I don't much care whether you want me around. It's not you I'm interested in."
Todd frowns and folds his arms, eyeing Lance heatedly. Okay, so the pathetic puppy dog eyes aren't gonna work on him. The violent approach is also out of the question, unfortunately. Sure, Todd could probably get a few pretty damn good kicks in on account of his lower body strength, but that wouldn't sit well with Lance at all, and once Todd finally got his hands on the phone, they'd probably be a little too broken to hold it. He decides to rely on annoyance. Clearing his throat, he repeatedly (and not quite so gently) jabs his teammate in the side, emphasizing each poke with: "Gimme the phone."
Lance swats at Todd's prodding finger. "Will you cut it out!" he snaps, then turns his attention back to the phone. "I don't care what you want, fuzzy. You're dealing with me now, not Todd. And I'm telling you only once. Back. Off."
Kurt growls dangerously. "Give. Todd. The phone."
All right, now Todd is getting pissed. This isn't any of Lance's business after all, and how DARE he have the audacity to take over HIS phone call and assume that Todd would sit back and let him take control of a situation he shouldn't even be involved in.. though, there is that tiny twisted part of Tolensky's mind that thrills at Lance's protectiveness over him, but Todd decidedly ignores that part and plants himself in front of the other boy. Clearly irate, he scowls and holds out his hand. "Gimme the fucking phone."
Pietro smirks and rolls his eyes. "Oohh, if only I had a video camera. This could be the first ever reality soap opera, I swear. We could call it 'As the Stomach Turns.'"
Lance glares at Todd for all he's worth, but decides it's best to give in before he gets really pissed off. It'll be harder to help him if he's too angry with Lance to accept it. Jaw set in a firm line, he speaks into the phone one last time. "Hurt him, and I'll rip each and every one of your hairs out, one clump at a time." He then shoves the phone into Todd's hand roughly, and goes to stand by the sink, arms crossed and a stern glare trained on Todd.
"Little protective, hmm?" Pietro teases, suggestively quirking his eyebrows at Lance. "Jealous?"
Lance keeps his eyes trained on Todd, determined to hear the whole conversation. He breaks the stare only long enough to glare at Pietro. "Grow up, man."
Pietro sneers and childishly sticks his tongue out at Lance before focusing on Todd, ears perked for any interesting factoids he could use to tease the younger mutant later.
Todd holds the receiver in his hand, waiting for Lance to leave the room, and lets out an exasperated sigh when the other boy merely stands by the sink, gaze still trained on him. Pietro says something, but Todd doesn't catch it; he simply shakes his head and glares at Lance. "Whatever, yo.." he grumbles. Turning around, he puts the phone to his ear and tries to ignore the sudden apprehension gnawing at his gut. He hopes Lance doesn't plan on watching him the whole time... "..hello?"
"Remind me to never call your place again," Kurt sighs with relief.
Ignoring the exchange behind him, Todd scratches his head and smiles sheepishly, though no one can see it. "Erm, sorry about that, man.." He glances over his shoulder only to see Pietro staring at him as well now. Lovely. Talk about being in the spotlight. Sighing into the phone, he walks as far away from the other boys as he can and leans against the archway that leads into the living room, self-consciously keeping his voice as low as possible without whispering. "So.. um.. what's up, yo?"
A small smile begins to spread across Kurt's face. Now that the rogue's gallery is out of the picture, he's definitely planning to enjoy this. "Nothing much. School was as boring as usual, but it was over quickly. What about you? What about Lance...is he giving you problems?" He tries to keep his tone casual, but isn't sure it works.
Todd casually glances over his shoulder again and grins. "Nah, no problems.. at least, not any more than you're probably getting from.. ah.." Now he brings his voice to a whisper; no sense in getting Lance all worked up when he finds out that Kurt hasn't exactly kept his mouth shut. "..you know who."
Kurt sticks out his tongue, wrinkling his nose. "Thankfully, I haven't seen Logan all day. I think he's running some errands for the Professor or something. Whatever, I'm just glad he's out of sight for now."
"Heh, well that's good.." Todd distractedly fiddles with the cord. Not only is it discomforting knowing that two of his teammates are listening to his every word (while he idly converses with the ENEMY, no less), but talking on the phone in general has always been an awkward task for him. And yet, here he is, speaking to someone he can barely manage five civil words with in person, trying to hold a conversation over the phone. He has absolutely no idea what to say. 'Awkward silence' is aptly named, however, and Todd feels the need to end it. He nervously shifts his weight and clears his throat. "..so.." he says. And that's all he can manage. Brilliant.
"Yeah. Um..." now that he's finally got Todd to himself, Kurt isn't quite sure what to say next. What do you say in a situation like this? 'So, are you free to make out tonight?' sure doesn't cut it. He blushes, thoughts automatically straying, and looks around guiltily, reassuring himself there's no one nearby. "So. Did you, uh, ask Lance? About, you know...whether you were doing anything?"
"Huh..? Oh!" Todd looks back at Lance again. He never truly intended to ask the other boy anything; it was an excuse to buy more thinking time, but neither Kurt nor Lance needed to know that. Problem is, though, Todd still isn't sure what he wants to do. Sighing, he drops his gaze to the floor and weighs his options: on one hand, he could hang here and run the risk of being interrogated by Pietro and/or maimed by Lance, or on the other hand, he could hang with Kurt, probably surrounded by uncomfortable silence filled with uncertainty with the possibility of very good things happening to his body. Little Todd hormones jump at the prospect.
"Yeah," he finally answers, gut tightening with anticipation. "Yeah, I ain't doin' nothin', yo." Maybe Lance would maim him anyway.
A nervous grin spreads across Kurt's face. Part of him is afraid of what might come of this, but the rest of him stuffs that part in a corner and sits on it. Whatever happens, this is what he's chosen, and he's not backing down now. "Great!" he says, a little too quickly, and he clears his throat, taking a calming breath. "Great. So, uh...when do you want to go? For that matter, where?"
Todd worries his lip. He doesn't exactly want Lance to know he's going anywhere. "I dunno, fool. You pick."
Kurt smiles at the ceiling. Who knew being called 'fool' could feel so good? Now where can they go where they won't run into anyone..."Hey, how about the book shop on 5th and Elm? No one will think to look for us there. Maybe we can get a bite at the burger place across the street first."
Todd sighs with relief; now he could just tell Lance and Pietro he was running out for a bite to eat and not worry about being caught in another a lie. "That's great, man." He brings the phone a little closer, cupping the receiver with his hand to make sure the other two don't hear him. "What time?" he whispers.
Pietro raises a brow. He didn't catch what was being said, but he's been logging Todd's body language thus far and mentally goes over what he's observed: fidgeting, nervous glances, twitchy fingers, lowered voice. Now more than ever he wants to know what's going on, though he wonders if he hasn't already guessed. Turning his attention to Lance, he tries to catch the boy's gaze, brow raised questioningly.
Lance notices Pietro's reaction, but only bothers to glare at him, hoping he'll take the hint and stay out of it for now. He's far more interested in Todd's behavior. The boy's nervous, which is understandable but also damning; he's doing something he knows he shouldn't be. He's whispering, inaudible, but it's easy enough for Lance to figure out what that something could be. He glowers, hoping Todd will turn around so he can turn the full force of his gaze on him.
Pietro huffs. Whatever. He knows he'll find out what's gong on eventually... he just wishes he didn't have to wait so damn LONG.
"Eight sound good?" Kurt says, a bit too chipper. He blushes again, and makes a conscious effort to relax.
Todd can't help but smile at Kurt's enthusiasm. He also curses the fact that it's contagious. "Sounds good, yo," he answers, finding it difficult to keep the mixture of eagerness and anxiety out of his voice. Then, as an afterthought, he hesitently adds, "See you at school tomorrow?" to cover his ass on the home front. He hopes Kurt will catch his drift.
"Eh?" Kurt's confusion only lasts a moment, and he smirks at the phone. "They're still there? Oh man, I feel sorry for you. At least I've only got to deal with Logan, and he's not even here all the time. I'll see you at-"
"Who's on the phone?" Scott's voice enters from the hall, followed by Scott himself. His brow raises at Kurt's last words.
"Mein gott!" Nearly dropping the phone, Kurt wheels about at the sudden intrusion, face flushing furiously. "Scott! What're you doing here?"
"The professor asked me to round the team up. Logan just brought in a new student, and they want us to lay out the welcome mat for him. Who's on the phone?" he persists, smirking. "Finally found a girlfriend?"
Kurt stands with his free hand on his hip, glaring. "Just a friend from school, lay off man! I'll be there in a minute."
Scott pokes Kurt in the ribs. "Friend from school, suuure. Well fine, don't let me interrupt, just be sure to hurry. They should be here any minute." Without another word he walks off, muttering 'Someone's got a girlfriend,' under his breath.
'Oh God.' Kurt rubs the bridge of his nose. 'The whole mansion's going to hear about this by the end of the night.' Clearing his throat, he grins sheepishly, disregarding the fact Todd can't see it. "Sorry about that."
Todd boggles at being referred to as a 'friend.' Did he mean that, or was he just covering..? /Probably covering,/ Todd decides, though he resolves to ask Kurt about it later. Maybe. After all, you don't screw around with your enemy and then grab a bite to eat with them the next day, right? /Well, apparently *I* do,/ he inwardly grumbles. /'cause I sure as hell don't hate him any less than before,/ though that's a lie, but damned if he's ready to admit that.. even to himself. "No problem, dawg." He grins, his voice taking on a teasing tone. "Just make sure Summers doesn't call me a girl again or my foot'll be meeting his ass, capesh?"
Kurt laughs. "You think I would complain if it did?" He sighs as the sounds of people passing by float in from the hall, Kitty and Evan's laughter among them. "I'd better go. I'll see you at eight, right?"
Todd smirks, oddly entertained by the fact that Kurt wouldn't mind if he gave Scott a little ass-kicking.. not that he'd get very far before the favor was returned, of course, but that was beside the point. "Yeah, man, I'll seeya then."
"Okay then!" Kurt leaps into the air, raising a fist in a silent cheer. "Okay, I'll, uh, I'll let you go then." Suddenly feeling awkward, he grins again. "See you..." He pauses after pressing the end call button, staring at the cordless phone with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. Then, with a whoop, he dashes from the room, hoping the new student arrives soon so he'll have the time to get ready for eight.
Todd pushes away from the wall, making sure to wipe the smirk off his face before he turns around. Casually swinging the phone by its cord, he makes his way back into the kitchen, whistling as he keeps his eyes trained on the floor. When he gets to the cradle on the wall, he mimics a 'slam dunk' motion and slaps the phone on the hook, shoving his hands into his pockets afterward.
"Don't YOU look chipper."
Todd turns to the source of the voice and sees Pietro staring at him from the kitchen table, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. Todd simply shrugs and offers him a winning smile.. which melts into a frown when he regards Lance's piercing glare. "What?!" he snaps, returning the look. /Christ, is THIS what they mean when they say drugs will fuck up your life or what?!/
Lance pushes himself off the counter he'd been leaning on, bringing himself to full height as he regards Todd. "'I'll seeya then'? That sounds awfully friendly, Toad. What're you up to?"
Todd takes a short step back, folding his arms. "I ain't up to shit, Lance! I was just saying I'd see him at school, man."
Yeah, Lance's really believing that. "Uh-huh, sure. So why're you even seeing him at all? Running into each other in the halls is already more than you should be doing, you know that. What're you playing at?"
Todd scowls indignantly and glances at Pietro, silently asking for some sort of defense, but the other mutant simply smiles and wiggles his fingers at him. Todd snorts; should've known better than to look for help there. He grinds his teeth together and regards Lance with a look of frustration and anger, toes itching to connect with the other boy's shin. "I ain't playing at nothin', man. And what the fuck is it to you, anyway? If you didn't know anything about it, it wouldn't be affecting your life at all, so just back the fuck off!"
Lance advances on Todd, intentionally getting way too far into his personal space and thrusting a finger at his face. "If you hadn't told me I wouldn't know! But you did and it is, and now I'm gonna make sure you don't make the mother of all fuck-ups."
Todd involuntarily takes another step back, but doesn't lose eye contact. He quickly slaps Lance's hand away and growls, "I can take care of myself, thanks, so quit fucking playing mother hen! You think I can't make my own decisions, man? I fucking made it this far with no one else thanks, so butt out. I know what I'm doing, fool." Straight out lying, but he'll be damned if he's going to let Lance think he can control the situation.
Pietro readies himself to make a mad dash towards the two if need be. Normally, he could care less if his teammates fought (he rather enjoys it, actually), but this seems serious and he doubts Mystique would be very pleased to come home and find she has one less team member. "Think maybe you should cool it a little, guys?"
"Fuck, for someone so fast you're not being very quick, Pietro! I told you to stay the fuck out of this!" Lance shouts. "And as for you," he grabs Todd by the front of his shirt, giving him a rough shake. "You've made it this far? Look where you ARE, man! FUCK! How am I supposed to help you when you can't even see what's going on right in front of your own damn eyes?"
Pietro's jaw tightens at the insult. He'll let it slide for now, but boy, is Alvers gonna pay for that later...
Todd tries to struggle out of Lance's grip, anger and resentment dominating his emotions. "Who the fuck do you think you are?! You ain't my fucking keeper!" Finally pulling away, he leaps backward, landing under the archway to the den, body shaking with rage. "I AM looking at where I am, man, and you know what I see? I see a fucking punk who pretends he's some kind of leader, but really has pebbles for brains and thinks with the wrong head whenever it comes to a certain X-Geek in a leotard!" Taking a breath, he backs up and doesn't even give Lance a chance to respond before he continues, voice slightly calmer, "Don't you even see what a fucking hypocrite you're being?" Without waiting for a response or reaction, he turns and lopes up the stairs, into his room, and slams the door loudly.
Pietro just looks at Lance, dumbfounded. "Wow."
All Lance can do is stare after Todd, eyes fixed on the door to the den as the other boy disappears from sight. "Shut up..." he tells Pietro, not really paying attention to what he just said. A hypocrite? Where does he get off, thinking he can say something like that about...The situation between him and Kitty is totally different from the fucked up little mess this is becoming. He and Kitty are casual, for all that he wants it to go further. He and Kitty have taken things slow over a period of time. ...He and Kitty haven't fucked under the influence.
Pietro ignores the command, glances back in the direction Todd went, and finally settles his gaze on Lance, eyes bursting with inquisitiveness. "So, are they really fucking, then?" he asks rather nonchalantly, bitterness about the insult only moments ago long forgotten.
Wow. Less than 5 hours, for a secret this size that's got to be a new record. Lance finally turns his attention to Pietro, his voice dripping sarcasm as he quips, "Whatever gave you THAT idea?"
Pietro jumps down from the table and harrumphs, arms folded firmly across his chest. "Hey, just 'cause your little shadow's screwing someone else doesn't mean you gotta take it out on me," he mutters, not quite serious, but the indignation in his voice masks the teasing tone.
Lance collapses against the counter again, massaging his temples furiously. "The whole world's gone crazy, I swear to god. What am I supposed to do about this? It's a danger to the team! When we start fighting those X-Geeks I can't worry that he's gonna run off for a quick fuck when no one's looking. This is ridiculous!"
Pietro raises a brow and suddenly, he's standing right next to Lance at the counter, a small breeze the only indication that he'd moved. "C'mon, you really think frog breath'd do that? Not that I'm at all happy about this situation,"--he mentally pats himself on the back for guessing it before being told, even if he was only trying to mess with the fuzzball's mind--"But I think you should back off a little. Ever hear that the more you deny someone the thing they want, the more they want it? Keep this up, and Tolensky might," shudder "...defect. Besides," he continues, idly examining his fingers (/Is that a hang nail?!/), "It's not really your problem more than it is Mysique's, anyway."
Lance stares at Pietro, as if he's suddenly said something utterly stupid...or brilliant. "Is it so damn wrong to want to watch out for him? He's not like you and me, you know? He doesn't always see the dangers right in front of him. Do you really think this could be GOOD for him? Like him and the fuzzball are gonna live happily ever after? Fuck that. This can only end badly, man. I don't want him to have to go through that."
Pietro tsks at Lance, waving a blurred finger in front of the other boy's face. "Don't go putting words into my mouth! Of course I don't think it's good for him, but as long YOU'RE still here," He stares at his teammate pointedly, continuing with a cheeky grin, "He should come around. And anyhow, he's not as naive as you might think. He really only DOES have himself to thank for getting this far in life." He shrugs and pushes himself away from the counter without further explanation, assuming Lance understand what he's talking about. With a yawn and a stretch, he whirls around and casually asks, "So what happened to the TV, man? There's some crack in the corner. Not that I'm complaining--that crack's certainly more interesting to watch than the one in Oprah's behind."
Wondering briefly over what Pietro meant by that 'he should come around' line, Lance pushes off the counter. Maybe Pietro's right, and all he can do is wait for this mess to blow over; he knows from experience that forbidding something is the best way to make a person want that something even more. That doesn't mean he's going to stop watching, though. The first sign of trouble, he'll personally take care of the fuzzball. A brief smile crosses his face at the thought of cracking open the ground beneath the X-Geek and letting it swallow him whole.
Pietro waves his hand in front of Lance's grinning face. "StillwithmeAlvers? Did I throw you off with my quip about Oprah's ass, or what?"
Lance shakes his head, brought rudely back to reality by Pietro's voice, and grimaces. "Dude, do you have to bring up Oprah's ass? I may want to eat sometime this week."
Pietro grins. "Ah, there's the Lance I know. Speaking of eating," He jabs the other boy in the ribs. "I'm hungry, drive me somewhere. Wanna conserve my energy for eating."
Fighting back a smile, Lance brushes past Pietro on the way to the den. "What am I, your chaffeur?" He steals a last glance up the stairs and stifles a sigh, heading for the door. "Well, hurry up, I ain't got all day."
Snickering, Pietro zooms past Lance and opens the door. "Way ahead of you, Jeeves." Heedless of whether or not he's being understood, he babbles as he makes a beeline for the jeep and hops in. "I know this great French restaurant that just opened up on Grand and I think it might be alittleexpensive, but it doesn't matter sinceyou'regonnapayanyway, being that I don'thaveanymoney, but hey it'sgreatfood and I think you really oughtta try the GlaceDeVolailleGold."
"Do I look like I can afford French cuisine?" Lance calls out the door. He stops just before leaving, and again stares in the direction of Todd's room. The thought of leaving him unsupervised, and what might happen if he does, is almost enough to make him stay. With a sigh, he turns towards the car, closing the door behind him.
Pietro pouts. "Fine, we can go to the French fastfood place next door to it, but don't eat the escargot-burrito," he warns. "I think they pick their snails right up out of the lot behind them." He shudders and makes little icky gestures with his hands. "Heathens."
Lance shudders. 'French FAST FOOD?' "Sounds like Todd's kinda joint. Luckily for our digestive tracts, since I have the car, I choose the restaurant. Burger Bonanza, here we come!" With a smirk he shifts gears, and the jeep shoots down the street, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.