This Side of Sane

�gThis is stupid. Why am I here again?�h

�gYou�fre the boss-man�fs kid. You whined until he let you come, remember?�h

Bright blue eyes narrowed slightly, �gI do not whine. I did not whine. I just thought it might be fun. Something new, you know? Besides, how was I supposed to know it was going to be cold? It�fs in the middle of a desert. It�fs supposed to be hot!�h

A pair of similar blue eyes laughed, �gDidn�ft you pay attention in school, mate? Deserts are only hot during the day. At night they usually drop to below freezing.�h

Pietro frowned and huddled deeper into his blanket .�hI don�ft even go to school half the time. Too slow, too boring. Besides, you learn more by living than by sitting and listening to someone drone on for an hour about things they don�ft really know about anyway. How come this isn�ft affecting you, Pyro?�h he pulled one hand out from the blankets long enough to wave it vaguely in the direction of the other side of the tent, then thoughts better of it and pulled it quickly back to himself. �gShouldn�ft the cold cancel you out or something? Like that Ice-twit?�h

St. John grinned and shrugged. �gI�fm fine. Got my own built-in heater.�h he motioned towards the boxers and thin tshirt he wore as proof.

�gOh, that�fs hardly fair. Everyone else gets a heater in their tent, and I get stuck with the guy that decides to give ours away because he doesn�ft need it! How did I get into this? And why did I get stuck with you?�h

St. John�fs lips twitched into a rather wicked grin, �gYou didn�ft seem to mind today when you had your hand all over my arse.�h

�gI did not! I was just helping you get out and that was the only place to put my hand.�h Pietro was glad for the dark; he did not want the older boy to see the blush that graced his cheeks. He was just helping out an injured teammate, really. It wasn�ft his fault that St. John had a huge�c thing on his back. If it hadn�ft been there, Pietro would have, of course, placed his hand on his back. Of course.

Though, really, if he didn�ft have the thing (What was it? Some kind of gas tank, maybe?) with him, he would have been rather useless. From what Pietro understood, St, John�fs power was all in controlling fire, not actually producing it. He could make all kinds of cool fire shapes and things, but without at least a lighter, he was completely useless.

�gSure it was. You couldn�ft put it on my pack or something? Too hot for ya?�h

Pietro groaned. It was too close to one of Lance�fs rock puns for his taste. Pietro was done with the Brotherhood�c really. Just because he still lived there... It was because of Wanda, really. Someone had to keep an eye on her, make sure that Todd didn�ft end up on the wrong side of too many hex bolts. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Pietro had been rather smitten with the leader of the Brotherhood since shortly after he�fd been forced to join.

Besides, Pietro was the leader now, right? Magneto put him in change, told him to get the boys whipped into proper shape. The only time the Brotherhood had ever won a battle was almost a year ago, during their one-on-one battles for a chance at a place on Asteroid M. Even then, only three fourth of them had made it, and Todd had ended up being beaten twice. The X-geeks were right; they were the Loserhood, and no amount of training was going to change that.

Pietro liked the Acolytes better. The Acolytes were older, stronger, more powerful. Sure, they�fd only been together as a group for a little under three months, but they were already better. They had more control over their powers, were just a bit more mature than the Brotherhood, who were still all in high school.

Even if Pietro did often have to strongly question St. John�fs sanity.

�gDrop it, fire boy, or I tell my father that you�fve been taking smoke breaks again.�h Hah. That should shut him up. Magneto strongly disapproved of any of his elite team of mutants doing anything that might harm them. Unless, of course, it was in the line of duty. Getting killed while fighting for their mutant superiority or whatever was much more preferable to kicking the bucket from some silly little thing like lung cancer. Then again, St. John inhaled more smoke from his own fires than his cigarettes anyway. He probably had some sort of altercation to his immune system that cleaned smoke out of his lungs or something.

�gYou�fre a whiny little pisser, you know? Leave my nasty little habits out of this. Or I tell dear, sweet Daddy about your little thing for that Avalanche bloke.�h Those blue eyes sparkled in the near-dark, accompanied by a knowing laugh. �gRemy told me all about how you�fre always pawing all over him back at that loser house of yours. Wassa matter, he finally get sick of you and throw you out or somethin�f? That why you�fre back here with us instead of in your nice, warm little bed back in the city?�h

Damn. St. John was hitting a little too close to home. Ok, so maybe he�fd had a small ?very small!- thing for Lance. But that didn�ft exactly matter, as Lance tended to not speak to Pietro as often as possible. Something about betrayal and pawns and snotty little daddy�fs-boy traitors. But Lance would come around and like him again soon! Really�c Right. And that was why he was here in the middle of some desert in Egypt in a tiny little tent with a guy he knew almost not at all, instead of at home curled in Lance�fs bed all nice and warm and wanted.

Pietro sighed and pulled the too-thin blankets tighter around his body. Damn, but it was cold. The sooner this was all over, the better. Then he could get back to Bayville, back to his so-called �enormal�f life. �gWhatever. There�fs nothing between me and Lance. And even if there was, he�fs in New York and I�fm here. Not exactly a suitable distance for a relationship, you know? Besides, I don�ft even know if Lance likes guys.

�gHell, he�fs probably still in love with that little X-girl Kitty.�h Pietro shuddered lightly at the thought. It just wasn�ft natural, a man and a woman to be together�c Ok, so maybe it was, but they were mutants, damn it all, what did they care about being normal? Lance had been rather infatuated with the X-girl since before Pietro had even joined the Brotherhood; they�fd even gone to the same school before they�fd been uprooted and transplanted in Bayville. Pietro knew he�fd never really stood a chance.

�gBah. Whaddya want with him, anyway? He�fs a loser, a reject. You�fre one of us now, so start actin�f like it. You�fre the youngest, so we�fre all gonna hassle you and give you as much shit as possible.�h Click, fwoosh! The space of the tiny tent was suddenly lit with the flame of a single lighter, and Pietro could now see more than just the vague outline of the other boy. �gYou wanna run with the big boys, you gotta be sure you can keep up. Otherwise�c�h the flame imploded in on itself and died. �gYou still cold?�h St. John created a new flame, this time transferring it to the palm of his other hand and coaxing it to grow into a small sphere the size of a tennis ball. �gC�fmere.�h

Pietro cocked an eyebrow at the other boy. He knew better than to trust anyone had deemed worthy enough to join his team. Besides, St. John was crazy.

Apparently, so was Pietro. He was up and out of his rather uncomfortable army cot and dragging his blankets to the other bed before his brain even registered his movement. Stupid traitor of a body. Never listened to him. Tentatively he sat on the edge of the other bed, blankets pulled around him as if they could protect him incase Pyro decided to live up to his name once again.

St. John laughed, �gGonna have to get closer than that if you plan on getting warm. Don�ft worry, mate, I don�ft bite on the first date. Though I might make an exception for you, since you were the one to make the first move.�h he launched into a giggle reminiscent of the one he usually reserved for setting things on fire. Teasing the boss�fs kid was highly amusing.

�gAh, I�fd rather not, thanks. Actually, I�fm not even sure why I�fm over here because I should be over there in my own bed and not in yours and so I�fm just going to go back to my own bed and sleep there and not be here and ?ooh, you�fre touching me, why are you touching me? You probably shouldn�ft be touching me since I�fm Magneto�fs kid and you know, you�fre really warm kinda like a fire and is all of you warm like that or just your hands, since, you know, you seem to control the fire with your hands but maybe it�fs just part of your ?aah!�h

Pietro had just gotten a good babble worked up when he was pulled quite unceremoniously down to lay next to St. John. Ok, so it wasn�ft so much �enext to�f his as it was fairly draped across him, as it was a small bed built for one, but that was close enough, right? His mind told him to move, that lying on top of one of his father�fs lackeys probably wasn�ft the best of ideas. His body, however, told his mind exactly where it could go, as St. John�fs entire body was, indeed, quite warm, and being pressed against it resulted in some of that heat transferring to Pietro�fs own body. And being warm was definitely a good thing.

In the end, Pietro�fs body won a glorious victory over his mind, and he allowed himself to curl hesitantly around the older boy. �gI�fm only here because you�fre warm and I�fm cold. I�fm using you for your heat, and that�fs it.�h he frowned a bit when the light went out, extinguished with a flick of the other boy�fs hand, and a pair of arms wrapped around his middle, then maneuvered them both so that they lay side-by-side, facing each other.

Goodness. Was it morning already? Pietro was suddenly quite warm, and wanted to toss the blankets aside to allow himself a bit of air. That pesky blush was heating his cheeks again, and for the second time in less than twenty minutes, he was grateful for the merciful cover of darkness.

St. John could feel the younger boy�fs body going tense in his arms, and smiled wickedly. Oh, such fun this was. And not entirely in jest even. �gWell then, if you get to use me, I get to use you, too. It�fs only fair.�h

Use him? What the hell could St. John want to use Pietro for? His body had no heating or cooling properties, and there wasn�ft ? oh.

Pietro�fs brain turned itself off. There were lips on his, attempting to coax them open. They were gentle and inviting and curious, things Pietro never would have associated with St. John, and oh, where had he learned to kiss like that, and since when was Pietro kissing back? No matter. He was kissing and being kissed, and being kissed was always a good thing, an one of those oh-so-warm hands had found its way up inside the back of his pajama shirt and was rubbing nice little circles on his back.

Pietro could deal with this. In fact, it was all quite nice, and he certainly wasn�ft going to complain about it. In the morning he could think about it again and maybe regret it, or maybe ask St. John for another kiss or even just take one, because weren�ft kisses so much nicer when they were stolen anyway?

St. John smiled against Pietro�fs lips. It was about damned time; he�fs been biding his time, waiting for a good two months now to make a move on Pietro, and he couldn�ft have asked for a better chance. Sure, attempting to shack up with the boss�fs son was a bit dangerous, especially considering who said boss was, but everything good came with a risk.

And if nothing else, he could keep the younger boy warm for the night, and for one night, Pietro could keep him just this side of sane.

.:end:.

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