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blue_bells» Title: Man Vs Ice
» Fandom: X-Men (Movie-verse)
» Warnings: Wherein I mourn my inability to catch a moment of the Winter Olympics.
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Pyro/Iceman
» Summary: Bobby and John attempt snowboarding; Bobby doesn't get very far.
» A/N: Written here for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
i_lovejs in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic.
John takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. His hands fisting and uncurling as he bends his knees, he looks over the lip over the lip of the ramp where the incline goes straight down.
He glances one last time to his side. Bobby grins and nods, wrapped in the winter gear that he probably doesn’t need, but wasn’t prepared to leave behind lest John crow about him showing off.
John can’t resist answering that with his own smile because this is going to be awesome.
John pulls his goggles down, one last rush of exhale, and he leans forward.
He falls so fast, the vibration of ice on the underside of his board rattles through his knees, and he can feel the moment he could tip all the way forward into an abrupt mess; he pulls his weight upright and around to avoid face kissing the ice. His board races him along the bowl of the ramp and he whoops as he comes up the other side, smooth and safe.
He’s grinning so hard it hurts his cheeks and his heartbeat is thudding in his ears because, yes, it is awesome.
Gravity pulls him back before he’s ready for it and there’s some arm flailing on the way down, but he stays on his feet. He’s lost the momentum, though, and he skids to a mostly dignified stop in the middle of the bowl.
And then it occurs to him.
John looks around. “Bobby?”
Bobby’s sprawled backwards at the base of their jump, his feet, still attached to the snowboard, are sticking out in front of him. He’s pushed himself up on his hands and it looks as though that’s as far as he decided to go, leaning back to watch the successive snowboarders swoop back and forth, avoiding the obstacle he’s created for them with ease.
Bobby pushes his visor up when John jogs over to him, snowboard tucked under his arm.
“Dude, I thought you were one with the ice,” John pushes his goggles back and bites his cheek to suppress the laugh threatening to bubble.
He holds out his thick, gloved hand and Bobby is sulking so darkly that John almost doubts he’ll take it.
“That’s so unfair,” Bobby says when he eventually lets John pull him to his feet. “You said you’d never been snowboarding before.”
John wants to exalt his natural if contrary talent, but Bobby wobbles, arms knocking into John’s chest and John catches him just in time. Bobby’s sulky glare is even funnier up close and John holds on for his own good, eyes squeezed shut as he shakes with the laughter that just won’t stop.
“Cut it out, John,” Bobby pleads, not looking at him.
John notices a scrape that’s starting to colour on Bobby’s cheek and he forces the snickers down. Bobby makes a pained and annoyed face when John’s gloved fingers touch the abrasion, he swats the hand away. John ignores Bobby’s look and kisses the abrasion instead, smirking when most of the tension evaporates from Bobby’s shoulders.
“... So, how do we get out of here?” Bobby asks.
John looks and points to the far end of the bowl where the snow is apparent and a staircase climbs the edge of the snowboarding ramp. In between them and the stairs are at least twenty snowboarders of various sizes and speed zipping past; all currently more accomplished and dangerous than the two mutants combined.
“We try not to get mowed down on the walk of shame,” John says and Bobby mutters under his breath, but doesn’t let go of his arm as they make the shuffle to try again.
» Fandom: X-Men (Movie-verse)
» Warnings: Wherein I mourn my inability to catch a moment of the Winter Olympics.
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Pyro/Iceman
» Summary: Bobby and John attempt snowboarding; Bobby doesn't get very far.
» A/N: Written here for
i_lovejs in comment_fic. John takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. His hands fisting and uncurling as he bends his knees, he looks over the lip over the lip of the ramp where the incline goes straight down.
He glances one last time to his side. Bobby grins and nods, wrapped in the winter gear that he probably doesn’t need, but wasn’t prepared to leave behind lest John crow about him showing off.
John can’t resist answering that with his own smile because this is going to be awesome.
John pulls his goggles down, one last rush of exhale, and he leans forward.
He falls so fast, the vibration of ice on the underside of his board rattles through his knees, and he can feel the moment he could tip all the way forward into an abrupt mess; he pulls his weight upright and around to avoid face kissing the ice. His board races him along the bowl of the ramp and he whoops as he comes up the other side, smooth and safe.
He’s grinning so hard it hurts his cheeks and his heartbeat is thudding in his ears because, yes, it is awesome.
Gravity pulls him back before he’s ready for it and there’s some arm flailing on the way down, but he stays on his feet. He’s lost the momentum, though, and he skids to a mostly dignified stop in the middle of the bowl.
And then it occurs to him.
John looks around. “Bobby?”
Bobby’s sprawled backwards at the base of their jump, his feet, still attached to the snowboard, are sticking out in front of him. He’s pushed himself up on his hands and it looks as though that’s as far as he decided to go, leaning back to watch the successive snowboarders swoop back and forth, avoiding the obstacle he’s created for them with ease.
Bobby pushes his visor up when John jogs over to him, snowboard tucked under his arm.
“Dude, I thought you were one with the ice,” John pushes his goggles back and bites his cheek to suppress the laugh threatening to bubble.
He holds out his thick, gloved hand and Bobby is sulking so darkly that John almost doubts he’ll take it.
“That’s so unfair,” Bobby says when he eventually lets John pull him to his feet. “You said you’d never been snowboarding before.”
John wants to exalt his natural if contrary talent, but Bobby wobbles, arms knocking into John’s chest and John catches him just in time. Bobby’s sulky glare is even funnier up close and John holds on for his own good, eyes squeezed shut as he shakes with the laughter that just won’t stop.
“Cut it out, John,” Bobby pleads, not looking at him.
John notices a scrape that’s starting to colour on Bobby’s cheek and he forces the snickers down. Bobby makes a pained and annoyed face when John’s gloved fingers touch the abrasion, he swats the hand away. John ignores Bobby’s look and kisses the abrasion instead, smirking when most of the tension evaporates from Bobby’s shoulders.
“... So, how do we get out of here?” Bobby asks.
John looks and points to the far end of the bowl where the snow is apparent and a staircase climbs the edge of the snowboarding ramp. In between them and the stairs are at least twenty snowboarders of various sizes and speed zipping past; all currently more accomplished and dangerous than the two mutants combined.
“We try not to get mowed down on the walk of shame,” John says and Bobby mutters under his breath, but doesn’t let go of his arm as they make the shuffle to try again.
