Fic: Le Cirque de Glace -- Bobby/Jean-Paul

Title: Le Cirque de Glace
Author: Khirsah
Pairing: Bobby/Jean-Paul
Rating: NC-17
Books: Uncanny X-Men
Homepage: http://khirsah.bacchae.org

Summary: Above all, love.



Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. They are property of Marvel comics.

Dedication: To Dawn and Sigmund Nemo.

Notes: This story was inspired by a work of art by Sigmund Nemo, which can be found here, as well as the all-powerful Fre. It is a Christmas story for the lj community speedsicle.

This story was not betaed: all mistakes are, therefore, mine.


***


"Almost there," Bobby said, carefully guiding his blindfolded lover through the Academy halls. Jean-Paul's hands were curled in his, fingers pale against the silver-blue ice. Bobby shifted his hold and Jean-Paul squeezed tight, mouth thinning as he half stumbled on one of the many Turkish rugs that filled the corridors. "Careful," Bobby said. "Careful."

"I would not have to take care if I could see," Jean-Paul pointed out peevishly. His streaked silver and black hair fell into his face a bit, longer strands brushing the red of his blindfold. Bobby grinned at him before leaning in to press their mouths together softly.

"Almost there," Bobby repeated against his mouth and Jean-Paul gave an exasperated sigh even as he pressed into the kiss. They paused, lips brushing again and again, heads tilting as they shifted closer. Jean-Paul licked into Bobby's mouth, tongue stroking into the cold wet of it. Bobby made a low noise, reaching up to tuck back his lover's dark hair, hand hovering before lightly cupping the sharp jaw.

Jean-Paul reached out to touch Bobby's hip, thumb sliding over his hipbone. The pad of his thumb pressed in lightly, causing Bobby to jerk responsively and moan.

"Mmm, we could stay here," Jean-Paul suggested, his other arm snaking around Bobby's neck but Bobby shook his head and pulled away, swallowing his lover's noise of protest with a quick kiss.

"No, no, I want to show you this," he insisted, taking Jean-Paul's hand again. He tugged him down the hallway, maneuvering him past end tables with their delicate vases and through doorways. He took him the long way down to the indoor pool, not wanting to pass any students along the way, and when he opened the final door Jean-Paul cocked his head in surprise.

"You wish to go swimming?" he asked, brow furrowing slightly.

Bobby tugged him into the room and shut the door. "Not exactly," he said, locking it behind them. All of the other entrances had already been locked and the large room was dim and echoing. Bobby led Jean-Paul closer to the pool before reaching up to unfasten the blindfold. He lifted his face to kiss his lover again as he undid the knot, tongue swiping along Jean-Paul's bottom lip as his nimble fingers worked.

The blindfold drifted to the ground as Bobby drew back for a breath, falling to their feet to be ignored as Jean-Paul reached up to cup his cold face. Thumbs slid over his icy cheeks, curving up to his temples as Jean-Paul smiled and brought their mouths together again. The kiss was soft and fragile-a delicate press of lips. Bobby opened his mouth instinctively, drawing in a single gasping breath as Jean-Paul licked into his mouth with a low moan. Their tongues brushed, tangled, heat filling Bobby in shocking flashfire wherever Jean-Paul touched. He made a low noise of pleasure, pressing forward with a shiver and jerked when Jean-Paul wrapped his lips around Bobby's tongue and began to suckle.

His hips pressed up, rutting against the sharp arch of his lover's hipbone as Jean-Paul began to unfasten Bobby's shirt. Clever fingers pressed the buttons through their eyelets, twisting them one after the other before pushing Bobby's shirt down his shoulders. Bobby fought it for a moment, not wanting to let go, and laughed when Jean-Paul bit his bottom lip.

"Cooperate," Jean-Paul admonished him. His hands slid down Bobby's glistening chest, fingers teasing over ice nipples. He began to unfasten Bobby's pants as Bobby shrugged out of the shirt, letting it drop to the floor.

"I always ranked U in cooperation," Bobby said, grabbing the hem of Jean-Paul's expensive sweater and tugging it up.

Jean-Paul made a muffled noise of protest, hands forced away from Bobby's pants. "U?" he asked, tossing the sweater aside with an unusual disregard for the expensive clothing. He tugged off his own shirt before turning his attention back to Bobby's pants, sliding down the zip.

"Unsatisfactory." He shifted as Jean-Paul pushed down his jeans and briefs-Bobby always wore uniform-style briefs under his clothing in case he were ever surprised by an enemy while going to the movies or walking from a bar. Not that he went anywhere much ever since he'd turned into ice for good. Not that he wanted eyes on him as he crossed the street, looked in windows, pretended to eat food he no longer needed. Bobby stepped out of his pants and briefs and turned his attention to stripping Jean-Paul. It had taken a great deal of convincing-both gentle and otherwise-on his lover's behalf for Bobby to become comfortable with this. He still wondered as he brushed his fingers over Jean-Paul's prick or slid within the almost unbearable heat of his body whether the cold was too much for him. Ice against skin, surrounding him, and yet Jean-Paul arched into the freezing touch as if he loved it, as if it were exactly what he needed.

Jean-Paul stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside. He slid into Bobby's arms, naked skin gliding against the pale blue of his ice form. In the dim, reflective light of the indoor pool, Bobby's skin glowed with a greenish cast, dappled with silver and blue and black like the sea. He lifted his chin and murmured in appreciation when Jean-Paul's teeth raked the arch of his neck, blindingly grateful for the thousandth time that he still had sensation despite the ice.

Bobby leaned in, hands spanning down Jean-Paul's chest and belly, one sliding over his ass as the other pressed against his thigh. He dipped down, kissing Jean-Paul's collarbone before lifting Jean-Paul into his arms, swinging him up despite Jean-Paul's sharp noise of protest.

Jean-Paul's arms went instinctively around his neck as Bobby shifted him in his arms. The level, displeased look made Bobby grin in reply, eyes dancing. "I want to show you your present," Bobby explained, crossing the room toward the pool. There was a red blanket spread out waiting for them, picnic basket and wine slightly off to the side. Small, lit lanterns surrounded the pool, casting a fitful light.

Bobby knelt and carefully laid Jean-Paul across the blanket, kissing his mouth, his collarbone, his nipples one after the other as his hand slid down Jean-Paul's slender body to brush his erection. Jean-Paul drew in a sharp breath, hips rocking up toward the touch and Bobby grinned again, smothering the flash of joy against soft skin.

He pulled back, sitting on his heels and looking down at Jean-Paul. "In my family," he said, reaching out to brush his fingers over the tip of Jean-Paul's cock again and again, "we had a bit of a tradition."

"O-oh?" Jean-Paul moved up onto his elbows, watching Bobby with bright eyes. His thighs shifted, spreading open as his hips canted into the touch.

"We'd give one gift the night before Christmas," Bobby continued. "The best gift we had. The most personal." Precome gradually hardened, freezing at the head of Jean-Paul's cock and Jean-Paul arched up with a broken cry, mouth open and swollen and *wet*. "Growing up, Christmas Eve was my favorite time of the season. The morning after it'd be great to open the toys and things Santa brought me, but it always felt best to open those gifts from mom and dad knowing that they planned it specifically for me. Knowing they really thought about it." He leaned in and kissed Jean-Paul's cockhead, tongue darting out to lap at the freezing come. It hardened beneath his tongue, wringing another sharp, needy cry from Jean-Paul before Bobby melted it again, lapping it away with quick, greedy glides of his tongue.

"Ah, ah Bobby, sil-te-plait," Jean-Paul moaned, hips rutting up as Bobby sat back on his heels again.

"I love you," Bobby murmured. He sat down and reached for Jean-Paul, drawing him into his lap. The red blanket felt good against his thighs but Jean-Paul felt even better as he leaned back against Bobby's chest, the curve of his spine pressing against his erection.

Bobby reached around him, fingers curling about the base of Jean-Paul's erection. Jean-Paul arched up into the touch, hissing when Bobby leaned in to flicker his tongue along the sharp curve of his ear. "Watch the pool," Bobby murmured, stroking up from base to tip.

Jean-Paul nodded, hands gripping Bobby's thighs on either side of his body.

Bobby concentrated for a moment, feeling the molecules of water in the air, the pool of water stretched dappled green and blue before them. The ice began in the center and spread out toward the sides. The sound of water freezing rapidly was almost musical, punctuated by Jean-Paul's sharp breaths. Bobby circled his thumb over his lover's cockhead, freezing the pool completely. A single spire rose from the ice, stretching up toward the high ceiling. It was thin and frail: a glistening spike of ice that gradually thickened, becoming a pole. Other spires rose and strands of ice began to connect them, forming an elaborate shape. Bobby had studied pictures for hours in order to get it correct, wanting each detail to be perfect.

Two platforms emerged from the ice, trailing ladders so realistic that they almost swung through the air. Wires, a delicate net stretching out below and four swings hitched two each to the platforms that faced each other. But for the ice it could have been a scene from any circus and Jean-Paul drew in a sharp breath that had nothing to do with Bobby's fingers tugging gently at his balls. "Oh," Jean-Paul said as figures rose from the ice-three men and a woman, all wearing matching costumes. One of them tossed his hair, pointed ears visible and Jean-Paul arched into Bobby's hand, pleased. "My nose is straighter," he purred, eyes never leaving his ice replica.

"It's the only thing about you that is," Bobby retorted and the ice Jean-Paul winked before striding toward the ladder. Jean-Paul snorted, watching as the four acrobats took position at the top of the platforms, movements elegant. In the dim candlelight, they looked almost real.

They took their bows, graceful and assured, and unhooked the swings to begin their performance. Bobby concentrated on freezing and unfreezing the molecules, carefully manipulating the figures as they moved through their routine. He stroked Jean-Paul through the show and gradually the entire thing fell into a deep, aching rhythm: the glide of bodies through the air, the twists and turns as they flipped gracefully, the quick arch of Jean-Paul's hips as he pressed into Bobby's hand. He twisted, reaching between their bodies to grasp Bobby's erection and Bobby cried out, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead to Jean-Paul's shoulder as the acrobats moved through their routine.

"I always wanted to see this," Bobby said, voice husky. His body shivered with arousal, cock throbbing within the tight vice of Jean-Paul's hand as he kissed up his lover's neck and stroked with him. "I always used to imagine you up there, flying through the air. Oh, oh God Jean-Paul. Oh, so good... You would be so beautiful..."

"Je t'aime," Jean-Paul breathed, eyes never leaving the ice circus as his strokes quickened. He fucked up helplessly into Bobby's hand, precome making his cock slick and, oh, *wet*. "Ah, ah Bobby. Oui, love you. Merci, merci," his cried echoed through the large room. "Je t'aime. Je t'adore."

"*Jean-Paul*," choked out and the acrobats soared through the air as Bobby came with a cry, entire body arching toward the heat of his lover.

Jean-Paul shuddered. "*Cold*," he breathed, pushing back and pumping his hips forward helplessly. "Oh, so good. So good, Bobby, oui." His eyes squeezed shut as he came, semen splashing scalding hot across Bobby's icy fingers. Bobby moaned, losing control of the ice figures and the circus collapsed in on itself, splashing down into the pool as the ice dissipated. He panted against Jean-Paul's shoulder, stroking his lover through the aftershocks as Jean-Paul leaned back against him in a boneless sprawl, head falling back.

"Love you," Bobby murmured against his skin, turning Jean-Paul in his arms until they were facing each other. He lifted his lover's chin and kissed him: deep, sloppy kisses. Their tongues brushed together in the cool air, exposed, and Bobby moaned and cupped the sharp jaw, trembling.

"Merci," Jean-Paul breathed, tongue darting out to tease at Bobby's mouth. "Merci, Bobby. It was so. Beautiful."

"Merry Christmas," Bobby said, fingers touching his hair, his cheekbones, down his chest to rub his thumb over Jean-Paul's thighs. He couldn't seem to get enough of touching him as if his skin were hungry for the delicate curve of flesh.

"Merry Christmas," Jean-Paul echoed, turning his face and kissing Bobby deeply. Their tongues tangled, lazy and sated. "Mmmm, perhaps next you will use your powers to make me a ski slope."

"Done," Bobby agreed, tongue licking into his mouth.

"A garden of ice."

"Done," he said, suckling on Jean-Paul's tongue.

"Snowflakes," Jean-Paul purred, fucking his tongue in deep and Bobby shivered and shifted closer, blanket rumpled and stained beneath them.

"Done," Bobby whispered, pulling back. Again the musical sound of ice forming as a snowflake appeared above them, delicate and pale. Jean-Paul studied it for a moment, lips curving into a slight smile.

"It is lopsided," he said with mock severity before arching his neck and licking the bottom curve of it. Bobby shivered and smiled as Jean-Paul looked back at him through his lashes, expression heavy and heady with amusement, arousal and love.

Above all, love.

He lay back as Jean-Paul moved to his hands and knees, crawling across the red blanket to hover over him. As they kissed, the snowflake dissolved, becoming hundreds of tiny flakes that fell slowly to the ground, drifting over their tangled bodies before melting away.