FIC: Worth a Thousand Words

[ficwize]

Title: Worth a Thousand Words
Fandom: X-men: First Class
Warnings: Some bad langauge; awkward discussions about sexuality; some hate-type speech in the background
Rating: Teen
Prompt: 134. # Any superhero fandom, any character/any character, a pair of superheroes narrowly divert another world-ending crisis. But for some reason, it was the same-sex kiss (or other show of affection) that made the evening news...
Summary: Nothing ever comes easy to Bobby Drake. It's hard enough being a mutant teen superhero, but when he kisses his best friend for the first time - on camera - things get much harder.
Length: 4,853 words
Disclaimer: I do not own the fandom.
A/N: This was written for the lgbtfest fic and deals with issues of sexuality and identity. Many thanks to second_batgirl for the beta. It's much better because of you!

As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.

*************


"Drake, open the door." Hank knocked patiently on the outside of Bobby's bedroom door where he'd been standing for the last half an hour. "You can't stay in there forever."

"I can try." Bobby's voice was muffled, like he had a pillow pressed over his face and Hank sighed.

"I'm not leaving."

"Fine with me," Bobby retorted woefully. "You can keep away the masses."

"You mean Scott, Warren, Jean and the Professor?" Hank demanded with a small grin. "No one else knows that you're the nefarious Iceman, you know."

"Don't make fun of me!" Bobby sounded like he was close to tears and Hank lost his smile.

"I'm not making fun of you, I just want to talk to you."

"Go away, Hank. Just leave me alone."

"Please?" Hank rarely resorted to begging, but he wasn't above emotional blackmail when times were desperate. And times were definitely desperate. "Bobby, it's me, your main nerd. Please open the door."

The silence on the other side of the door was deafening and Hank leaned forward until his head was pressed against the wood. "You're not the only one this affects, Drake. I would appreciate it if you would at least discuss what happened with me."

There was a muffled curse and then a thumping noise before Hank finally heard footsteps cross the bedroom and open the door. Bobby stared at him wordlessly for a moment, hair askew and eyes suspiciously red. Standing aside, he invited Hank to come in.

Picking his way through the clutter scattered on the floor, Hank pulled out Bobby's desk chair and sat down carefully. Bobby made his way back to the bed, heedless of what he stepped on and flopped down, back to the wall, to stare at Hank. Hank couldn't help but notice that Bobby grabbed his pillow and clutched in his lap, whether to just have something to hold, or to have something between them, Hank didn't know.

The silence stretched and Hank cleared his throat. Now that Bobby had finally let him in, he had no idea what to say. Reaching up he scratched his head. Bobby followed the motion with his eyes, his expression betraying none of his innermost thoughts. Randomly, Hank wished that he were telepathic. It might not be ethical to read Bobby's mind, but he suspected it would make the following conversation a great deal easier.

"How's your arm?" Bobby asked suddenly and Hank flexed the muscle and gave a half shrug.

"Serviceable. The injury is minor."

"It didn't look minor last night." Bobby looked away from Hank, his face and neck flushing a dull red. "You were bleeding."

"Yes, but it looked worse than it was. I'll be fine in a few days, fit for active duty again."

Bobby picked at the threads in his bed sheets, still not looking up. "I'm glad it's not worse. I thought you were really hurt for a while there."

"For a while," Hank admitted, "so did I. The Quetzalcoatlus was fearsome."

"Is that the flying dinosaur thing?" Bobby shrugged, sounding like he didn't care so much. "It wasn't so bad once it was down – it was just hard to deal with when it kept dive bombing everyone that moved. There were a lot of people around, since we were at the subway and all and I think…"

"Bobby," Hank interrupted him. He needed to think and Bobby's endless prattling wasn't making it easier. "You kissed me."

Bobby's face darkened until he was a deep shade of red and still he didn't look up at Hank. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"I thought you were dying." Bobby glanced up once, his brown eyes searching Hank's blue ones before dropping back down to stare at the floor. "You looked like you were dying."

Hank sighed, reaching up to push his fingers against his forehead. "I appreciate the emotional and mental trauma of the situation, but I…" He stopped and licked his lips. "I didn't know you felt that way."

Bobby seemed to shrink in on himself. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"That's too bad." A new voice interrupted them and they both turned to see Scott standing in the doorway. His whole body was tense and he looked like he'd quite cheerfully go and battle the Quetzalcoatlus again on his own if he didn't have to deliver whatever news it was that he held. "You both need to see this. Come on."

The order was given in his Leader-Voice and Hank and Bobby both obeyed without thinking much about it. Bobby waited until Hank was through the door before he followed, careful to make sure there was space between them. Scott didn't look at either one of them, instead leading the way down the stairs and to the den where Jean, Warren and the Professor had clearly been having a conference of their own.

Jean managed a smile for Hank and Bobby, but Warren didn't look at either of them.

"There seems to be some cause for concern." Hank cleared his throat. He didn't know what was going on, but he did know that he wasn't comfortable with the idea of any of his teammates, or his mentor, offering him advice on his love life, such as it was.

Instead, Professor Xavier indicated that they should sit down. "I'm afraid that the mission earlier tonight was captured by the news."

"More mutant hate mongering?" Hank asked, when it became clear that Bobby wasn't going to say a word.

"No, which on the one hand is a relief. But on the other…" Xavier hesitated, clearly uncertain what to say and Hank felt trepidation build in his stomach.

Suddenly, Warren reached over and snagged the remote. "See for yourselves," he muttered, turning the television on.

"Oh my…" Hank's voice caught in his throat and he was grateful that the Professor had made him sit down. There on the television, large as life and twice as graphic, was a picture of Bobby holding an injured Hank in his lap, their lips pressed together.

"Everyone is aware of the danger presented by the mutant task force known as the X-men." The announcer's voice was as perky as it was disingenuous. "But after tonight's destruction of the Salem Center Transit Station, some citizens are warning of the new dangers threatened by the perhaps aptly nicknamed "Sex-Men."

Hank's jaw dropped and he felt his own face heating up. A roaring noise filled his ears and he couldn't hear anything else the spokeswoman said. Behind him, Bobby made a strangled noise and fled the room without a backward glance.

There was an awkward silence in the room as everyone waited for Hank's reaction. Finally he managed to clear his throat. "That's preposterous. It's journalistic abuse at its worse. Voyeuristic nonsense…"

"It's bullshit." Jean swore, looking furious.

"Yes." Hank agreed, unable to come up with anything more succinct. "It certainly is."

*********************

Bobby was never going to show his face again. That was the only plan he had when he left his teammates to stare at the television in shocked horror and raced upstairs to his room. For a frantic twenty minutes, he'd actually begun packing his bags to leave, stopping only when he realized that he had no where to go.

His family barely tolerated the fact that he was a mutant. There was no way that they could accept the fact that their son was also gay. The thought hit him like a four hundred pound flying dinosaur and Bobby's legs gave way. He sank to the ground beside his bed, two pairs of socks still clutched in his hands, and stared at the floor trying to make sense of what had just happened.

How could he have been so stupid? Everything was going fine! He may not have had the most understanding family, but he was a teenager! Teenagers were supposed to fight with their families. It's not like it mattered anyway, since he'd lived with Professor Xavier.

Sure, his life was a little more complicated than the average person, but the average person couldn't freeze their body and singlehandedly win a snowball fight against three opponents, one of whom was a telekinetic.

He'd ruined everything. Any idiot could see that Hank was just stunned by the fall. Bobby's ice slide had cradled him from most of the impact and he was just gasping for breath. Any idiot except Bobby, who had landed beside his best friend in the world convinced that Hank was gasping his last breath.

Humiliation colored his face as he recalled clutching Hank's shoulders and screaming for help. Hank had gasped his name, sure, but that was only to reassure him that everything was going to be all right. Instead, Bobby heard a tremulous goodbye. Time froze, no pun intended, and all Bobby could think was that Hank was going to die before he knew how Bobby really felt about him.

So he'd kissed him. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Hank stiffened underneath him and Bobby broke the kiss with a single frozen sob, only to be hauled upright by Scott, who was staring at him in shock. Warren and Jean stood off to the side, clearly having seen everything.

"We've got to go." Scott ordered. "Now. Beast, can you walk?"

To Bobby's eternal relief, Hank had replied. "Yes." It wasn't as eloquent as Hank normally was, but Bobby didn't care.

"Iceman. We're going. Now!" Scott herded them away before the crowds could recover. The flying dinosaur lay on its side fifty feet away, wings coated thickly with ice and unable to move. Sirens blared in the distance and Bobby stumbled to his feet, Scott's hand steady on his arm, as they'd fled the scene like criminals instead of like the heroes they were.

Not one person – other than Hank – had been injured. Not one person died. The property damage was pretty bad, but it was nothing compared to what it had almost been. The Professor would probably make an anonymous donation to cover ay of the costs he felt the X-men had caused, and the city would have had to pay to repair the subway station anyway.

No matter how hard he wracked his brain, Bobby could not remember a photographer standing nearby, just waiting to take the picture that would ruin Bobby's life.

The first hour after getting back was business as usual. Scott debriefed everyone; they all commented on what had happened and what could have happened differently; and no one so much as looked at Bobby, including Hank.

The relief that Hank was okay was slowly replaced by numbness as the enormity of what he'd done settled on Bobby. He'd kissed him. He'd kissed his best friend. He'd kissed his straight best friend. He'd outed himself as surely as if he'd painted himself pink and skated around on rainbow colored ice slides.

He'd ruined everything.

Slowly, Bobby realized that he was still holding socks and he flipped them over his shoulder onto the floor. A tentative knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see Jean pushing the door open a bit.

"Hey."

"Hey." Bobby licked his lips. "Umm, is Hank all right?"

There was a slight pause before Jean spoke and Bobby's shoulders slumped. "He's going to be fine, Bobby. You both are." She crossed the room to sit on his bed, eyes narrowing slightly at the haphazardly packed suitcase. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Where would I go?" Bobby held his head in his hands. "The rednecks where my family lived tried to lynch me for being a mutant. What do you think they'd do if they realized I was a gay mutant?" A hysterical laugh slipped past his lips and he squelched it before it forced him to tears.

Jean hesitated, her telekinesis already at work unpacking his suitcase. Drawers opened and closed as she stuffed clothes back in the dresser and threw shoes back into the closet. "Are you then? Gay, I mean."

"You don't already know?" Bobby looked at her askance and she flushed slightly.

"I try and stay out of your thoughts, Bobby. Especially your private ones."

"Maybe you could make more sense out of them than me." Bobby muttered, looking down at his hands. "Sorry I implied that you were snooping."

Jean slid from the bed to the floor beside him and reached over to take his hand. "Hey, it really is going to be okay. Everything is going to work out."

Gratefully, Bobby squeezed her fingers before sighing. "Maybe I should go. I mean, I never really… you guys are all…"

"Shut up, Drake." Jean ordered mildly. "You're about to launch into some spiel about how you don't really belong with the team because you're younger and don't belong, aren't you? And, no, I didn't read your mind to get that information either. I know you, Bobby, and you belong here, with us."

"Even if everyone in the world starts calling you Sex-Men now?"

Jean smirked. "I'm a woman. Besides, they've never gotten anything right about us before now. Why does it bother you what they think? They've called you a terrorist and a freak and a divine mistake. But they call you gay and suddenly, you're ready to leave?"

Bobby's ears turned red, but he didn't pull away and he didn't answer. Jean patted his shoulder with her free hand. "Just give it a few days to blow over, okay. That's all we ask."

"Don't worry, I don't plan to leave this room if I can help it." Bobby released Jean's hand and she stood up, taking the hint. Bobby cleared his throat just before she left the room and she turned to glance at him quizzically. "Ummm, Scott and Warren?"

Jean's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "They'll be fine, Bobby. We all will."

She shut the door and Bobby climbed back on the bed and pulled the pillow over his face once more. He was right before.

He'd ruined everything.

*********************

"By now most of our viewers have seen the photograph of two of the so-called X-men caught kissing at the Salem Center Transit Station. Often reviled as nothing more than mutant vigilantes who take matters into their own hands for the so called 'mutant' cause, now they've given those who fear them yet more reason for distrust."

Hank listened to the news with only half an ear. It had been almost 48 hours since what he was thinking of as "The Incident" and Bobby had clearly been avoiding him. He felt a stab of regret and wondered if he could have handled things differently. Who was Bobby more concerned with at the beginning? Was he avoiding Hank there or the rest of the team?

"You okay?" Warren flopped down on the sofa beside Hank with an indolence that Hank had come to associate with the wealthy. With a scowl for the news reporter, Warren used the remote to change the channel.

"The "Sex-men" have managed to change the focus of public outrage with something as simple as a kiss. Long feared as abominations, now local parents groups are uniting in outrage at the obvious intent of this group of mutants to force not only the mutant agenda, but the gay agenda as well. Reporter James Harper of Chanel 6 news reporting."

"Thank you, Monica. I attended a meeting of a local chapter of Parents Opposed to the Mutant Peril meeting to find out what they had to say about this latest discovery."

Warren started to turn the channel but Hank stopped him. "Wait. I'd like to hear what P.O.M.P. is saying."

Warren shook his head. "They never say anything worthwhile."

"Just leave it." Hank ordered stubbornly. For reasons he couldn't explain, he had an almost morbid curiosity about what people were saying about him. Sure enough, a small window box opened in the upper corner of the television screen with the picture of Bobby kissing him shown to the world for judgment.

“Homosexuality and the mutant problem may be politically correct, but they will never be BIOLOGICALLY correct."

The television showed a woman with shocking red hair and too much make up screaming into a microphone. The bottom of the screen flashed her name. Clara Madison, President of P.O.M.P.

"We don’t want our children exposed to these mutant freaks, and we surely don't want them exposed to perverse sexual behavior."

"Am I the only one catching the irony of the fact that no one in that picture asked for it to be the subject of constant news coverage for two days?" Scott's voice was bitter and Hank turned with surprise to see the other boy standing in the doorway and watching the news with an expression of disgust.

"You may just be." Hank answered, tiredly.

"It's indecent, what they do. They're abominations of God, and now we see just how much they flaunt His word."

The picture changed to show Reverend Stryker in all his indignant glory and Warren's lip curled. "What a bastard."

"Far be it from me to disagree with that assessment, but I highly doubt he's alone in his sentiment."

Scott reached over and plucked the remote from Warren's hand and hit mute. The television screen still showed others people rallying around POMP and Stryker in support, but Scott moved to stand in front of it. "Have you talked to Bobby, Hank? He's barely come out of his room at all."

"Not since the other night," Hank admitted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure what to tell him."

"You could probably start with something along the lines of not hating him." Warren suggested and Hank jerked in shock.

"Don't be ridiculous! Bobby knows that I don't hate him. He's my friend."

Warren met Scott's gaze and shook his head. "Listen, Hank. I know that you don't exactly… date much." He raised a hand to forestall Hank from interrupting. "Not that I care! But, generally if someone kisses you it's because they're interested in you. And ignoring them afterward doesn't say "friendship." It says something more like "what the hell am I supposed to do now that we can't be friends and I don't want to look at you and ewww…"

"Warren, knock it off." Scott ordered. He sighed and moved to sit on the coffee table, facing Hank. "But, that doesn't mean that Warren's wrong. Bobby's probably freaking out."

"We both have been." Hank answered, defensively. "It's not everyday that your private life suddenly becomes public fodder."

"Drake wears his emotions on his sleeve." Warren shrugged. "You're harder to figure out, but man… you're freaking out about the news, not about being kissed by a dude."

Scott kicked Warren's shin, scowling. "It's not just 'a dude'," he explained. "It's Bobby. You've been friends for a long time. You didn't know?"

Hank leaned forward and pressed his fingers against his eyes. Then he glanced up at the television and saw the infamous photograph again. Even in ice form, Bobby clearly looked terrified and grief stricken and Hank felt his stomach tighten. Had he known how his best friend had really felt? And if so, why hadn't he done anything about it before now?

"Yeah." Warren glanced at Scott, giving Hank the distinct impression that they had already discussed this, before he continued. "About that - are you interested in Drake that way?"

"I… don't think I should discuss that with you before I discuss it with Bobby." Hank shifted uncomfortably.

A noise from the hallway made all three of them look up. Bobby walked in from the front door. He glanced over at them and nodded a greeting, before rushing up the stairs to hide in his room.

"I never thought I'd say this," Warren sighed. "But I miss the goofball that he used to be."

"Me, too." Hank admitted.

*********************

"Drake." Bobby tensed immediately, looking up warily to see Hank walking towards him.

"Hiya, Hank." Bobby hated that he could hear a nervous quaver in his voice and he turned to go back the way he'd come. "I was just going to work out."

"Really?" Hank sounded skeptical. "Because you appear to have already been to the gym."

Bobby glanced down at his sweaty clothes and grimaced. "Nah, I just warmed up. I still need to… um… do leg curls," he lied. "And abs!"

"You're not usually so adamant about physical fitness."

Bobby looked to the side. "I just thought that maybe I needed to work harder. You know, get more of an edge…"

"Bobby," Hank caught up to him and caught his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault I got hurt."

"No. But if I had been faster, maybe you wouldn't have." Bobby sighed, misery clear in his eyes. "Look," he said suddenly, "I'm really sorry. I ruined everything and I don't blame you for not wanting to be my friend anymore. I don't know what I was thinking and I hope you can forgive me. I just freaked out, because I thought you were dying and I don't really think you feel that way about me and I wasn't even sure I felt that way about you and I was wrong to just spring it on you like that and now it's been on the news and I'm not sure I could have screwed up anymore if I'd been trying to."

He took a deep breath and Hank stared at him in amazement, jaw hanging open. "Bobby," he finally managed. "You haven't ruined everything."

"You don't have to pretend." Bobby pulled away from Hank's hand, shrugging it off his shoulder. "I'm not mad about it."

"Neither am I."

"I would be." Bobby looked at Hank frankly. "Do you have any idea what people are saying about you?"

"The news hasn't been that specific…" Hank's eyes drew together in confusion.

"Man, you haven't read the internet." Bobby shook his head in disgust. "I didn't even know some of those things were possible." He stopped suddenly. "Are you okay? You look kinda gray."

"Just… stop talking about the internet for a moment." Hank swallowed hard. "It hadn't even occurred to me to see what people were saying there. You'd think they would have more to talk about."

Bobby shrugged, hugging himself slightly. "Yeah, I'd just gotten used to being called the Frozen Freak. My new internet nickname seems to be Icecapade."

Hank looked at him blankly and Bobby shook his head. "I don't know. The internets are hardly filled with geniuses. I guess people think ice skaters are gay."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hank's question interrupted Bobby's nervous prattling and Bobby fell silent.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I didn't want to risk losing my best friend, I guess. Can we not talk about this here?"

"I suppose the hallway isn't the best place to reveal one's secrets." Hank consented. "But you've been avoiding me."

"I was trying to give you space."

"Well stop at once." Hank ordered, making Bobby smile slightly. "Let's go into the kitchen."

Bobby's smile vanished in a flash of panic. "Or we could not. I'm fine with just pretending nothing ever happened if you are."

Hank's eyes narrowed and he shook his head slowly. "I think not. And you can runaway if you wish, but since you are the one who began this – however inadvertently – I think you should at least do me the courtesy of discussing the situation."

For a heartbeat, Bobby stared at him, nonplussed. Then he grinned. "Do me? No pun intended, huh?"

Flustered, Hank blushed and Bobby sobered immediately.

"Damn it, Hank. I'm sorry! It was a stupid joke and I just… I'm having a hard time here."

"So am I." Hank admitted, opening the door to the kitchen and waiting until Bobby went inside. "But it's partially of my own making, I believe."

Bobby automatically grabbed two root beers from the cabinet, cooling his with a touch and glancing at Hank for approval before he cooled the other one. He passed it over the island and slid down on one of the stools. "What do you mean?"

"First, I need to make one thing very clear." Hank cleared his throat and Bobby tensed, glancing down at his drink. This was the moment he'd been waiting for ever since he'd Ruined Everything.

"I'm not angry at you about anything. You handled the mission extremely well. My injury wasn't your fault. Nor do I believe that the public is justified in their anti-gay hate mongering. The disgust I feel for anti-mutant hate mongering goes without saying of course."

Bobby closed his mouth with an audible click. Tears stung his eyes and he managed a shaky breath. "It's my fault they're talking about you, though."

"No." Hank shook his head emphatically. "The media will make mountains out of molehills until the end of time. The fault belongs only to the person who took the picture and then sold it off to the highest bidder." Bobby stared at him and Hank faltered. "What is it?"

"I kissed you." Bobby blurted it out before he could change his mind. "I kissed you."

"Yes," Hank grinned, despite the tenseness of the situation. "I'm aware."

"Why aren't you pissed?" Bobby slammed down the soda bottle with a clunk and Hank eyed it carefully for a moment, making sure it hadn't broken.

"I confess that I wasn't exactly sure how to respond to your advance. In light of the situation, and considering your admittedly heightened emotional state, I wanted to consider all of the possible implications."

"Hank, it was a kiss. Not a NATO treaty." When Hank looked surprised at the comparison, Bobby scowled. "What? I can read." When Hank continued to stare at him, Bobby shrugged. "It's been in the news the past two days – that and us."

"Ah." Hank tried to hide an amused smile and failed. "But your point, I believe, was that it was a kiss. Yes, it was. From someone that I didn't anticipate ever offering me such a gesture of affection. Do you resent that I needed a few days to contemplate it?"

"Are you asking if I’m mad that you wanted to think about it?" Bobby shook his head. "I'm just glad you're talking to me at all. I didn't think you would."

"Why not?"

"Because… you're not gay!" Bobby exclaimed, frustrated. When Hank stayed silent, Bobby paused. "Are you?"

Instead of answering, Hank reached very slowly for Bobby's hand. "I'm not very experienced at this sort of thing, I admit. Most of my free time has been spent contemplating philosophy, not the current dating customs of teenagers." He met Bobby's eyes hesitantly. "Can we just take it slowly? See what happens?"

Bobby's smile lit up the room like fireworks and Christmas lights. "Yeah." Bobby sighed, relief making him lightheaded. "Yeah, I think we can do that."

"Excellent. That just leaves us one problem."

"The picture on the news." Bobby nodded. "But I don't think there's anything we can do about that."

"To the contrary," Hank grinned, looking positively wicked. "I have an idea."

*********************

"Oh, my God!" Jean's shriek brought everyone running to the den, where she was pointing comically at the television.

"What's wrong?" Scott demanded. He was half dressed, clearly having raced from the shower to see what the commotion was about.

Instead of answering, Jean dove over the coffee table and wrested the remote away from Warren. Hitting the buttons on the DVR controller, she rewound it to show a news clip of a building on fire.

"That's where we were earlier tonight," Scott observed tensely. He could still smell smoke on Bobby and Hank who were standing side by side behind him, strangely silent.

The picture flickered backwards, skipping time incoherently, until Jean finally hit play.

"It seems that the X-men were spotted fleeing from the burning building earlier tonight. Several eyewitness reports suggest that they might have been responsible for the blaze."

"It's hardly upsetting that they would blame us," Scott began falling silent when the picture shifted. "Oh, my God!"

Against the backdrop of the four-story building in flames two figures could clearly be seen embracing, lips pressed together as they vanished over the horizon on an ice slide. Bobby and Hank suddenly found themselves at the center of attention as their teammates turned to stare at them in disbelief.

"As long as the media seems determined to focus their attention on us," Hank explained, reaching down and lacing his fingers through Bobby's, "we figured that we might as well give them something to talk about."

"You… and Bobby… and you… and Bobby?" Warren repeated stupidly, looking from their joined hands to Bobby's blush and Hank's shy smile.

"What's going on?" Scott demanded, but Jean stepped closer and poked him in the ribs. Behind her, the television was frozen, clearly showing the two young lovers kissing.

"It's kind of explanatory, Scott." She giggled, beaming at Hank and Bobby with undisguised pleasure. "After all, a picture's worth a thousand words."

Comments

[ficwize.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much! I'm really glad that you liked it.

The media reaction felt so hateful to write, but I wanted to try and capture some of the vitriol I'm sure would have come out of this situation - especially since they were already mutants.

Anyway, thanks again!