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Proof. That was always Bobby’s goal. To have proof. Bobby had wanted so desperately to get proof from Rogue that she actually liked him, and he got it. He had spent so much time trying to get “proof” from John about him actually considering him his best friend. And that’s what John wanted. Proof. But how in the hell was John supposed to get proof of the fact that he had a crush on his best friend? Who knows. But there was no way that John ACTUALLY liked him. It was probably just confusion, he was pretty confused by how he felt about people a lot! And it usually just turned out he was lonely, which he was. But this felt… different. Just like he always did. But there was something about the way his stomach twisted every time he saw Rogue and Bobby flirt, or when he would always just randomly stop talking whenever someone got a bit too touchy with him. Unless it was Bobby. Whenever it was Bobby who had his hand on John's shoulder for just a bit too long or decided that it was time for a way too tight and cold hug, he would just get quieter, never stop talking completely.
So there he was, sitting in his dorm, flicking his lighter on over and over again. He always did that. He liked the sound of the lighter sparking to life, the way the flames danced, the way the light shined and would illuminate stuff with its golden-ish glow. It was comforting in a way. It was distracting, distracting from all the other stuff. The stuff with kids looking at him like he was a freak and a school for freaks. The stuff with Rogue and Bobby somehow always deciding to be lovey dovey when John was around, making his heart feel like it was pushing on his ribs. The stuff about how he always seemed to fit better when he would jokingly flirt with Bobby. Or at least, he thought he was always joking. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of his heart fluttering whenever Bobby was around. Guys couldn’t feel this way about other guys. Not real men at least. And John knew that. He knew damn well of that fact when he was taking off his shirt, practically carving it into his bones as he looked at himself in the mirror. He could never like Bobby like that. Bobby liked girls anyways, not just any girl either. Rogue. God, how jealous he was of her. She got to say things to him that would’ve felt so much better coming out of his throat, yet they spilled out of Rogues instead.
Eventually, aka 20 minutes, he finally came out of his wallowing. He practically threw himself onto his bed, creaking under his weight. The sound was so familiar, yet every time he heard it, it managed to make his head strain. The feeling of jealousy still looked over him, even as he laid there trying to sleep. All alone, he really had nothing to do other than think about it. John had no idea what Bobby saw in her. But John could so clearly see what she saw in him. He could’ve listed it out for hours if he wanted to. The way Bobby laughed, the way he would hold a glance for just a little too long, the way he was so nice to everyone and everyone thought that he was the best. Meanwhile, John was just the school's outsider. An outsider among outsiders. How could Bobby think so highly of him when he was so bad? John had no idea why Bobby thought that he was worth anything more than a passing thought, but he did. Just something more to the ever growing pile of stuff John loved about him. 100% platonically, of course. Even if it wasn’t platonically, there was no way in hell that Bobby would ever think of him in a way that wasn’t platonic. But eventually the lull of sleep rushed over him, finally freeing him from the thoughts he fought so hard to keep away.
Soon enough, the morning came, and so did the classes. Too much talking, bell rings, until lunch finally came. He sat down at his usual spot, right next to Bobby. And so did Bobby, Rogue following short next to him as well. The talking between the three was just like usual. Until a glance. Nothing more. But John couldn’t help but notice it, the way Bobby held it for just a moment too long. But he brushed it off, it was probably nothing anyways. He couldn’t have him if he wanted to anyways. So as they finished their lunch, came the random ramblings. John wasn’t much for it, only a few sarcastic comments, a few dumb jokes. He couldn’t focus on much anyways. So he just flicked his lighter in front of his face, admiring the brown haired boy from behind the flame. He could always hide behind the flames. Whether anger or feelings he chose to shove down into the pit of his gut, he could hide behind the spark of light that came from the tiny contraption he always carried around. Soon enough came the next bell, telling them to go to their next class. Thankfully enough, Bobby and John shared their next class. He was always so happy that they had that class together, finally a few moments for them to talk alone. John was always so aware of how Bobby walked just a bit too close, how he would so often “accidentally” brush his hand against Johns, just often enough to be a bit weird. But guys couldn’t like guys. And Bobby was already dating Rogue. So just like always, John shoved them down. Bell rings, and to the next class. And then, finally, John got to go back to his dorm, quiet and safe.
It was Friday, meaning Bobby would usually come over to John's room to watch some dumb movie they would rent. And that’s exactly what they had been doing. Truthfully, the movie wasn’t exactly the main point of the fire loving boy’s focus. How could he ever focus when he had Bobby fight next to him? He was so pretty next to him, laying on his bed as if he had been sleeping there for years. John wished he had. And just then, his resolve dared to slip. John had no idea why he had made the choice to wrap his arm around the other's shoulder, cold to the touch. But John was okay with the cold feeling. Despite how much he disliked the cold, he was content with how cold Bobby was. Bobby didn’t even pull away when John put his arm there, still focused on the movie. And in that moment, he wished he could’ve been like this at any other time. But there was no way in hell he could. Any other time Rogue probably would’ve been around, or a large group of people. And what’s worse than being seen as an outsider by outsiders? To be seen as something he had grown to hate seeing in himself by outsiders. And Rogue probably wouldn’t have taken so kindly to him doing that, much less Bobby’s parents if they were to find out. But, god, how good the thought felt. And how good the touch felt. It felt oddly good, filling the pit in his stomach with the oh so familiar warm feeling that Bobby always gave him. But way too quickly, the movie had ended, leaving John to be alone in his dorm once again. The cold that crept into the room was different. It was the kind of cold he hated, not the kind of cold that Bobby gave him. It was the same cold that snuck in during snow days, or when he remembered that he was fully a man. If he was fully a man then maybe he would’ve been a bit less different. A bit less angry. But he knew that he could never be fully a man. Sure, the painful weight he used to carry on his chest, filled with sorrow and guilt, was gone, the sorrow and guilt lingered. He knew he was different, but he still would’ve been different if he wasn't like this, hadn’t killed the girl that could’ve had a chance with Bobby. But he did. And he replaced that girl. Only giving himself more want, yet removing any chance he had with the cold boy he pined after constantly.
Once again, just like every morning, he could feel the cold pit in his gut when he saw Rogue and Bobby. But this was different. The cold was biting, painful, most likely due to the sight. Turns out a power dampening bracelet worked wonders on Rogue for her power. And there she was, kissing the boy John yearned for, right out in the open. Should John have done it? No. Absolutely not. But something inside of him, the little coil always springing back to normal to make sure he wouldn’t do anything bad finally snapped. He shouldn’t have done it, never should anyone make the candle right next to Rogues hair shoot up, almost catching her on fire, but he did. And he barely felt sorry, he barely felt sorry as he walked away before either of them could notice him. They most likely knew it was him, but he didn’t want to deal with them right then. Bobby would never be his. Bobby didn’t deserve to have to be with a sad sack of a guy. John didn’t deserve anyone as good as Bobby. John didn’t deserve anyone. So once lunch came, he didn’t want to sit with them. He didn’t want to sit with Rogue. She hasn’t done anything to him, but he just couldn’t stand to see them together. Not when he could see him and Bobby together so clearly. So he sat in the corner alone, praying nobody would notice him, much less Rogue and Bobby. But of course someone did. Someone always did, no matter how ignorable John was, or thought he was.
“John.” Kitty said, practically slamming her hands down on the table before sitting across from him. Her tone took on an almost gossiping tone, like she was about to tell him someone was spreading rumors. “I heard what you did.”
“And what exactly did I do?” John replied, a bit too monotone for his liking. But anything could be quickly fixed. Everything in the school spread like wildfire, but it felt weirder when it was something that he actually did and not just a rumor. What he did was bad, and he knew.
“Heard that you tried to set Rogue on fire. Is it true?”
“Uh. Yeah, Kitty. It’s true. But I didn’t try to “set her on fire.” It was just a little scare. Harmless.” It wasn’t a lie. Just not the whole truth. Was it meant to scare her? Yes. Was he trying to set her on fire? Also yes.
Soon enough, he managed to get through the day without seeing Rogue and Bobby. But no teachers stopped him, didn’t even get called into the professors office. Rogue and Bobby hadn’t told anyone. John didn’t know what that meant, but he didn’t take it as a good thing. He also didn’t take the loud knock on the door and how cold his door handle was as a good sign. And it wasn’t, being met with a very angry Bobby. He spent what felt like an hour yelling at John, even though it was only 5 minutes. John didn’t respond. Didn’t shed a tear. Just a sniffle, and a sharp look down, avoiding the other boy's gaze. He didn’t want to look him in the eye, didn’t want to see the eyes that were always so gentle with him yelling at him. He already knew he shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong, but he still couldn’t face it. A small apology managed to force itself out of John's mouth, small and genuine. He could feel tears at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t dare to let them fall. He wasn’t the victim here and he wasn’t trying to be.
“I- uh- I’m sorry. I really, really am, I swear.” The words fell from his mouth, laced with sincerity. He was trying to apologize, but none of it seemed like enough for himself. Bobby had already stopped yelling, he was okay with a small apology. John wasn’t. The apology wasn’t enough to him, not enough to be forgiven, but before he could try to fix it, Bobby had left.
John practically collapsed onto his bed, face buried in the fabric of his sleeves. He was pathetic. Real men didn’t cry. And here he was, sobbing into his sleeves. He barely made any sound. He didn’t want to. And he practically dreaded the next day.