authors note: One beta has not yet gotten back to me, so this may change. I like this story a lot and I hope others do, too. I worked really hard on it. So please read and reply. For people who asked about my Evietro story, I will finish it. People flamed me about it and that made me mad, but I will finish it regardless cause people liked it.

This will eventually be another Evietro (Evan/Pietro), story, but the first part is Evan/Scott, mainly. There will also be some Lance/Scott later on.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

*******

Evan was sure he could have made it.

The distance between the cliff and the ridge was a negligible one. It would have taken hardly any effort for him to span it on his skateboard. One running start to gather momentum and a mid-air twist would have gotten him clear to the other side, and he wouldn’t have even broken a sweat.

He could have made it. He knew he could have. He could have been the one to charge in and take out the robotic invaders that were pinning Jean, Scott and Amara to the ridge with his spikes. He could have spiked the hell out of the weird round spider-looking thing that had nearly zapped Kitty. He could have been the hero, and then he would have been on the receiving end of the admiring smile Scott was giving Ray Crisp at that very moment. Because it was Berserker who had gone in and fried the hell out the robotic invaders, saving the fucking day. And as Evan watched that sweet, beguiling, somewhat bewildered smile spread across the X-Men leader’s face, Evan felt like driving one of his spikes through his heart. That could’ve been him Scott was smiling at. It should’ve been him. He could’ve made it . . . but noooooo. He’d had to hold his position across the ridge while all the action took place across the way from him. Evan let out a frustrated sigh as the "mountains" and "crags" that surrounded him shimmered away and the sterile, stainless-steel environment of the Danger Room returned.

"Very nice, all of you." Evan turned at his aunt’s voice. Storm had run the simulation and had entered the room, standing in the middle of the group of X-Men.

"Cyclops, that was a good job of decision-making under pressure," Ororo was saying. "You kept your cool in a very tough situation –"

"Yeah, but I still got us trapped." Scott sounded frustrated, and Evan felt his heart pound. Scott sounded so sexy when he was frustrated – well, he sounded and looked sexy just about all the time.

"If it hadn’t been for Berserker, we would have been toast." Scott looked over at the young recruit and smiled slightly. Evan wanted to tear his own eyes out. "Nice going man."

Evan gritted his teeth when Ray started grinning and blushing, and felt his spikes pop out when Scott rested a hand briefly on the young boy’s back. He promptly tuned out his aunt’s voice and lost himself in his own thoughts. What he wouldn’t give for a touch from Scott. Even a fleeting one. Just some contact – Evan craved any type of physical with the tall, handsome, bespectacled senior – a handshake, a handclasp, a backrub – anything! It wasn’t enough just to be near him anymore, to be in his presence and breathe his scent and share his air. Evan wanted the touch now. He wanted, needed to have Scott’s hands on him, his mouth on him – he fantasized about it, dreamt about it at night. Evan sighed softly, staring intently at Scott who was, in turn, listening attentively to Storm.

"—Tomorrow, the same scenario, but different teams. Cyclops, you’ll be team leader again, but your group will include Magma, Cannonball, Rogue and Spyke –"

Evan perked up at that, grinning widely. He was going to be in the active group, not stuck on sentry duty like a wet-behind-the-ears newbie. And even better, he’d be with Scott. Near Scott. A million scenarios in which he could accidentally brush up against Scott presented themselves in Evan’s mind, and he felt his face grow hot enough to melt. He hadn’t been so turned on by simply the thought of someone since, well, since Pietro probably. The blonde frowned at the thought of Pietro Maximoff, his very recent ex-flame. The pale teen had been his first kiss after Evan had come out to himself. Pietro had been his first boyfriend, his first screw, his first blow, his first love. Evan had been in a haze, thinking that everything was peaches and cream. And then came the crushing blow -- the speed demon had played him – the whole relationship had been some elaborate game for Pietro’s amusement –

Evan shook his head until it damn-near rattled in order to distill the thoughts. Fuck that. It was over between them, and besides, there was Scott – perfection in a tall, tan and well-built package. Evan drank in the older boy’s image – the brown hair threaded with red and gold, the strong jaw, the erect posture – and wondered why he hadn’t noticed the older boy’s charms before. It was so different than the lithe, paleness to which he’d grown accustomed with Pietro –

Stop thinking about Pietro! He ordered himself sharply. It’s over, dammit. It’s all about Scott now. Just him. I’ve gotta get him alone. Maybe ask him to help me with my Geosciences project or something . . .

Evan’s stomach turned to water at the thought of actually telling Scott that – about actually telling Scott about his feelings. The reason was two-fold: First, he wasn’t even sure Scott was gay – or bi, for that matter. The second was a little more complicated: He was so afraid that Scott would laugh at him. He feared that more than he feared the older boy’s rejecting him. Laughter – from the nervous giggle to the full-bodied, mocking guffaw, always unnerved him a bit, and would have wounded him much more than any look of horror or anger ever could.

Deep down, Evan knew that Scott probably wouldn’t laugh at him, but he was apprehensive all the same. As a result, he found himself tongue-tied around the object of his affection, even though he was dying to spill his heart out to the older teen. It was getting harder and harder to keep secret, anyway. His cheeks burned as he remembered his embarrassment after Kurt asked him one morning why he’d been calling Scott’s name out in his sleep. The blonde had made some half-baked explanation about a nightmare, but he recalled Kurt’s skeptical look, realizing he’d used that exact same excuse when Kurt had heard him screaming Pietro’s name.

"Evan? Is there a problem?"

"Huh?" He jumped, unnerved to see the team gone and his aunt in the middle of the floor, staring at him. "I mean, yeah, Auntie O?"

She looked at him quizzically and gave him a soft smile. "The simulation is done. You can leave your post now."

"Oh . . . uh, right." Evan grinned sheepishly, and held tight to his skateboard. "Thanks." He walked slowly toward the door, stopping when Ororo’s hand came to rest on his arm.

"Evan . . . is everything all right?" she asked softly, staring into his eyes. "You’ve seemed a bit . . . preoccupied lately."

"Um . . ." Evan looked at the floor, pondering just how loud his aunt might scream if he told her that he was depressed and miserable because he was pining over Scott Summers. "No. I’m okay auntie." He looked up and saw same the concerned look. "Honest."

She stared at him a moment longer, but then ruffled his hair and nodded. "All right. But, you know that if you ever need to talk, I’m always here for you."

"I know," Evan said with an uncertain smile, wondering for about the millionth time in his life how his aunt could be so perceptive. Maybe she really was a goddess. "Thanks, auntie. Um . . . I’m gonna go boarding for awhile. Is that okay?"

"That depends. Your homework is done?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes ma’am."

"All right then." She nodded in assent. "But no bending curfew this time. Be back by nine, or there’ll be trouble."

"Yes ma’am," he repeated giving her a mock salute, smiling when she smiled. He turned and rolled out of the Danger Room, zipping through the doors that parted before him. At the end of the hallway, he saw Scott deep in conversation with Jean Grey. Evan immediately slowed down, eyes narrowed as the sight of the girl, jealousy and resentment surging through in him in turns. Stupid bitch is probably reading his fucking mind . . . maybe even reading mine . . .

As a test, he conjured up a favorite memory of Pietro – the speedster on his knees before him, head bobbing between dark thighs as if he were moving in time to a favorite tune. With a smug smile, Evan waited for Jean to faint, freak out or get flustered. None of that happened, however – she was totally focused on Scott, and that made Evan even more irritated.

While he didn’t think Scott had it quite as bad for the redhead as others seemed to think, he was, nevertheless, jealous of their closeness. He watched the girl lean close to the rangy teen, her long hair brushing Scott’s shoulder, one delicate hand resting on a subtly muscled forearm. Evan was comforted by the fact that Scott was walking along, seemingly oblivious, very wrapped up in whatever it was he was saying. Evan rolled along slowly, stealthily, creeping closer in hopes of hearing what the two were saying –

"Hey, Spyke!"

Evan nearly fell off his board when the voice, then the person, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He felt strong fingers, grip his arm, preventing him from falling on his ass, and, once he’d recovered his equilibrium, Evan scowled up at a beaming, tan face.

"Whoa, man. You all right?"

"Sunspot." Evan straightened up with a slight frown, eyeing Roberto DaCosta warily. "Damn, man. You scared the hell out of me. Where were you?"

The smile on the Brazilian boy’s face faded a little. "Um, I was kinda at the door, uh . . . waiting for you. I wanted . . . um . . . to ask you . . . er . . ."

Evan regarded the other boy with impatience, growing frustrated when Scott and Jean disappeared into the elevator, the doors hissing shut behind them. "Fuck!"

"Um . . . something wrong?" Roberto sounded worried. Evan ignored the boy for a moment, glaring at the closed elevator doors. About to mutter a string of curses, he started slightly, realizing that his arm still clasped in Roberto’s grip. Evan looked at his sleeve and then up at Roberto, his eyebrows raised in silent question. The other boy seemed to come to himself at that moment, and hastily let him go.

"Ah, sorry. I-I-, um . . ." Roberto nervously ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. "So, um, where you headed?"

"Mmmm," Evan murmured absently, his eye still on the elevator doors. Jean could be such a bitch sometimes. The girl had Duncan Matthews panting after her and had basically disregarded Scott’s existence for a year, but now that Duncan was showing his true colors, she was throwing herself at Scott. It just wasn’t fair!

"Hey . . .you all right?" Roberto was waving his hand in front of his teammate’s face, and Evan snapped back to reality. "You looked like you were zoning."

"Yeah. Sorry." Evan mumbled. "I guess. I just need some air, you know?"

"Yeah. So . . . you are going boarding then?"

"Probably," Evan sighed. Busting some ollies and half-pipes would keep his mind occupied for a while. "Guess I’ll see you later."

"Wait!" Roberto blurted, reaching a hand out to Evan, but pulling back hastily, as if he’d been burned. Evan frowned thoughtfully when he saw a blush stain the nut-brown cheeks. "Uh, I mean . . . I was thinking, if you wanted some company . . . you know . . ." Roberto fumbled his words and blushed harder. "That is, if you want. I’m not doing anything . . ."

Evan found it hard not to sigh. Roberto was an amateur skateboarder. Not bad, really, but not great by a long stretch. Evan had been showing the younger boy some basic moves, and that had been kind of fun. Sunspot was pretty cool, actually, for a newbie, but Evan wasn’t in the mood to play teacher. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, with his desire. He needed to spend time in physical exertion and try to figure out what the hell he was going to do about his feelings for Scott.

"No offense, man, but I kinda need to be solo tonight, you know? Got some thinking to do." Evan watched in mild surprise as Roberto’s face fell and he looked, for a fleeting moment, utterly crushed. The expression changed in a second, though, and the familiar, easy smile was back, though a little less dazzling. "Maybe some other time?" Evan said, feeling bad all of a sudden. Roberto wasn’t to blame for his crappy mood, and he didn’t want to the other boy to think that he was blowing him off.

"Sure, man. Some other time," Roberto said with that same overly cheery grin. "Have fun."

"Right." Evan mounted his board again. "Later, dude." He rolled toward the auxiliary elevator, avoiding the main one where he’d last seen Scott, and slumped against the wall, the doors closing on the sterile steel walls, closing on Roberto’s propped-up smile.

****

The minute the elevator doors shut, Roberto dropped the grin and massaged his aching cheeks. Walking slowly down the hall, his footsteps echoed through the corridor like ice clinking in a glass.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. What’s it gonna take? What the fuck’s it gonna take?Is he blind?!

He stopped short, scowling at the wall opposite him, trying not to think of the satiny skin that had been so recently in his grasp. His crush on Evan was driving him insane. In fact, Evan himself was driving Roberto insane. Not only was the dark-skinned blonde clueless, he was totally into someone else. Again.

At first, Roberto had tried to explain away the wide-eyed stares and goofy grins he’d seen Evan give Scott as the simple friendship, or at worst, some sort of hero-worship – Scott was the example the Professor wanted them all to follow, after all. It didn’t take long for Roberto, however, to realize he was wrong. Many times he saw the black teen looking at Scott with an expression that had Roberto grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror every day after waking from the incredible, and incredibly detailed, dreams about the dusky-skinned blonde, only to find himself in bed alone. He’d realized what the deal was when he’d noticed Evan giving those same lovesick smiles and stares to a certain silver-haired speed demon some months before. But he refused to believe it, couldn’t believe that it meant what he thought – knew – it meant, until he saw with his own outraged eyes Evan being screwed royally, literally, by Pietro Maximoff, of all people, behind the gym bleachers.

The sight had turned Roberto on, of course, seeing Evan so vulnerable, so in the throes of passion, so enjoying himself immensely. Roberto had hid himself carefully, watching it all, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from touching himself. The look on Evan’s face as he came was one that continued to fuel his fantasies. But Pietro? Why the hell would Evan go for that?

It had bothered Roberto for weeks, had virtually eaten him alive to know that the blonde was with Pietro when he, Roberto, was so readily available, and, he thought, rather obvious about his attraction to Evan. After all, the skateboarding thing was just a ploy to get Evan to spend more time with him – and everyone in the Mansion seemed to understand that except the black teen. When Evan stopped giving Pietro those lovestarved glances and had gone on ignoring the silver-haired punk just like the rest of the X-Men did, Roberto had been overjoyed, sure that he’d have a chance with the spike-throwing teen.

But now Evan was into Scott. Cyclops, dammit. How the hell was he supposed to go up against that? He was Roberto, Sunspot – the second-team X-Man who was frequently used as the "victim" in Danger Room scenarios. Scott was Cyclops – fearless leader, older, more experienced, taller . . .

Damn. Damn! Roberto felt himself start to glow hot, the corridor filling with sunlight as his powers surged forth. I’d be so much better for him than Quicksilver or Cyke. Fuck – doesn’t he even realize Scott’s probably not even gay?

Roberto sighed in resignation, feeling his body grow gradually cooler as he calmed down. There was no use in bitching about the situation. Maybe Evan would come to his senses and see that he and Scott weren’t gonna happen. Maybe then he’d look around and realize that the guy of his dreams was and always had been right under his nose the whole time. There was hope. There was always hope.

But until then, there were only dreams and fantasies and slightly neurotic delusions. Roberto punched the button for the elevator and slunk in gratefully, heading to his room for his nightly ritual of jerking off, daydreaming about Evan’s skin.

****

Scott checked his back pocket for about the sixth time, and for the sixth time, the tinny jangle assured him that he did in fact have his car keys. Ever since that one time he’d misplaced the keys to the cherry-red convertible, he’d gotten rather obsessive about them.

Jean had teased that he’d become pretty obsessive about a lot of things, lately – his performance in Danger Room sessions, drawing up strategic plans with the Professor, even schoolwork. He wasn’t quite sure how to take her teasing – he was sure it was tongue in cheek, but if she were serious, then she didn’t know him very well at all. He needed order, needed to know where everything and everyone was at all times. He couldn’t be an effective leader otherwise.

But it felt good sometimes to take a break and just go off by himself. He’d just get into his car and roar off alone driving along a stretch of open road, not really aware of where he was going. At those times, he wasn’t Scott Summers, Bayville High student, or Cyclops, X-Men leader. At those times, he was just . . . a guy. Just a guy who liked to drive, who was drawn in by the open road and the promise of adventure. He felt free then, unfettered, and realizing that he liked making it up as he went – sometimes. He liked not following a set plan – sometimes. It was refreshing. As much as he loved his role as a leader, it was nice to tool along in the fast car, just existing, letting his worries blow away with the car’s exhaust. It was very cool. Not that he’d ever tell anybody that. It might ruin the reputation he’d worked so hard to build.

And now he was ready to hit the road again, but for a more pedestrian exercise. He’d volunteered to make a run to Burger Barn for anyone who was interested – and just about half the mansion had been, as the list in his back pocket attested. He didn’t mind doing the errand. It got him out for a little while, at least, and he needed to clear his head. Once again, he felt his performance in the Danger Room had been sub par. Didn’t matter what Storm had said, he still felt that he was making mistake – critical ones, crucial ones, ones that could get them all killed in the field. He needed to be better, had to be better. He was the leader, the one everyone looked up to. Scott knew he could not afford to melt down; too much depended on his being able to be calm and rational under pressure. He was determined that the next day’s Danger Room would go more smoothly.

He rubbed his forehead, attempting to massage away the small knot of tension there, and adjusted his shades. Patting his pocket for the seventh time, he pulled open the front doors, breathing in the rush of crisp, clean night air. The sky was a perfect blue-black, dotted with points of light and a slice a moon. The tall teenager smiled slightly. It was the perfect night to drive down the highway with the top down, the radio on, and a clear mind.

"Yo! Incoming!"

Scott whirled around, just barely getting out of the way of Evan as he careened toward him on his skateboard. The dark-skinned teenager did a weird spin move and came to a pretty abrupt stop in front of him. Scott backed up and blinked when the boy looked up at him apologetically.

"My fault, man. I didn’t think anyone was down here. Are you . . . are you all right?"

"Yeah, I guess. You gotta be careful on that thing, dude." Scott looked down at the younger boy, a little surprised to see him staring at him, mouth slightly open, eyes wide as saucers. He looked almost fearful. "You going skateboarding now?"

"Yeah. Um . . . yeah. Just felt like heading out for a minute, you know?" Evan scratched the back of his head, looking slightly out of it. "Just for a little while."

"It’s a nice night to hang out." Scott nodded. "I tried to get the others interested in a movie, but . . ." he shrugged, smiling a little uncertainly when he saw Evan looking at him with that same odd stare. The expression of the young, blonde boy reminded him for all the world of a very docile, eager puppy. Very unusual. "So, um . . . you want anything from the Burger Barn?"

"Uh . . ." Evan looked confused and looked down. For a minute, Scott could have sworn that Evan was looking at his pants for some reason. Scott looked down, too, wondering if he’d spilled something on his pants. "Burger Barn?" Evan repeated as if in a daze. "That’s-that’s where you’re going now?"

"Yeah. Then to Pita Hut for Kitty," Scott replied. "You want anything?" He took a list out of his pocket. "There’s always room for one more." He grinned slightly.

Evan’s eyes remained fixed on Scott’s face, and he didn’t speak for a moment. Scott frowned a little; for a minute, he could have sworn he’d seen Evan swoon. He cocked his head slightly, wondering . . . between that and the intensity of the brown boy’s stare, Scott was getting a bit concerned.

"Uh . . . Burger Barn. Sure," Evan said, and to Scott’s ear, it seemed as if he were speaking mechanically. "Um . . . I guess a double Gut Bomb and a large Atomic Fry."

Scott jotted the order down on his pad. "Gotcha. With extra mayo, no onions, right?"

The smile that broke out on the younger teen’s face made Scott glad that he was wearing shades, else he was sure he’d be blinded by the all-out display of even, white teeth. He was shaken by the intensity of the grin – Evan was smiling at him as if just been told he’d just won the lottery.

"Yeah, exactly, man!" Evan sounded elated. "How’d you know?"

Scott shrugged. "Yeah, well, you’ve told me enough times, so . . ." He trailed off noticing that the smile had dissolved, and Evan was shifting from one foot to the other. "Ev, is there something wrong?"

Evan looked up quickly, then down, then up again, and Scott noticed the glassy look in his eyes. "Um, no. I mean . . . not really. I mean . . ." He stopped speaking and looked up at Scott with that same eager puppy look. Scott raised an eyebrow. He’d noticed that Evan had definitely been acting weird lately; he’d been quiet, a little distant, and it worried the oldest X-Man.

"Ev?" Scott looked at his teammate. "There is something wrong, isn’t there?" He felt his back stiffen when Evan lowered his eyes. "What is it, dude? You know you can tell me."

He placed a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder and had to grab Evan’s shirt when the black teen fell, the skateboard seeming to slip from under his feet. "Whoa! Are you all right?" Scott looked at him in alarm. He’d never seen Evan so clumsy on his board before. He held him up until he was sure Evan was steady, noticing that his eyes had grown wide and he was breathing heavier. Scott’s eyes widened. "Evan?!"

"I’m-I’m okay," Evan breathed, rubbing his shoulder. "I just . . . I . . .uh . . . I need to talk." He glanced up at the dark-haired boy. "To you." He swallowed hard. "I want to talk to you," he repeated, a little more forceful. "I mean . . . I need to talk to you. I . . ."

Scott looked at him closely. Evan was having a hard time meeting his gaze, but his voice sounded normal, though a little unsure. He and Evan had never really had any long, deep conversations – Scott figured that Evan went to Ororo for that – but it didn’t matter. He was the leader, and one of his teammates needed to talk, so they’d talk.

"Sure. Um . . . why don’t you come with me to the Burger Barn," Scott suggested. "We’ll grab the stuff and talk a little on the way, then we can pick it up back here. That sound okay?"

The smile returned, and Scott couldn’t help smiling a little himself. "That sounds cool, man. You probably woulda needed help carrying stuff anyway, right?"

"Yeah. Kurt’s order alone is a gonna be a two-bag job," Scott sighed. "So we better get cracking. He swears he’s wasting away."

"Cool," Evan nodded and headed out the door toward the garage, his arm brushing Scott’s ribcage, lingering a little, as he passed by. The older teen stared thoughtfully after the boy for a moment before making a last check for his keys and stepping out, closing the door firmly behind him.

****

Evan snuck another glance at the tall teenager in the driver’s seat, admiring the strong, strong profile, the hair blowing carefree in the breeze, and the ruby-tinted glasses glinting in the moonlight.

Damn. He is so beautiful . With reluctance, Evan focused his attention elsewhere. Much of Bayville whizzed by them in a dark blur as they drove to the town’s Main Street. It was a quiet night, not much traffic, and they were zooming along nicely. Scott had the radio on – some rock and roll station – and was humming to the music occasionally, which Evan thought was rather endearing. Everything Scott did, it seemed, thrilled the younger teen to the core, from the smooth way he’d pulled out of the garage, to the neatly executed turns on the road, Evan found himself ogling the boy beside him, all too aware of the tall, hot presence that was Scott Summers.

"So . . ." Scott began casually. "What’s been going on with you, dude?"

Evan chewed his lower lip, trying to find a way to put his incoherent thoughts into coherent words. Just coming out with: "Scott, I love you," might be a little much – he was driving, after all. It would probably be best, Evan decided, if he started at the beginning.

"Um, I kinda . . . have been pretty bummed lately." Evan lowered his voice as Scott slowed down. They were on Main Street now and there was a little bit of traffic. "The past few weeks especially, I’ve just been kind of . . . depressed, I guess."

"Depressed?" Scott looked over at him, his forehead crinkled in worry. Evan thought he’d melt under that look – concerned and sexy all at once. "About what, man? Everything at school’s okay, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. School’s fine."

"And at the mansion, there’s been no problem . . ." Scott let the words hover between question and statement. Evan picked up on the nuance and shook his head.

"Nah, everything’s cool. It’s just that, I, um . . ." Fuck it. Just say it already. It’s not like he wouldn’t find out eventually. "…I broke up with somebody a few weeks ago . . . and, um, it was hard."

"Ah . . . man, I’m sorry." Evan could hear the sadness in Scott’s voice, and he smiled in spite of himself. Scott genuinely was sorry, he could tell, and that touched him. If he hadn’t been in love before then, he certainly would have tumbled head-over-ass. "That sucks. Was it your idea or was it hers?"

Fuck. Here we go . . . "Um . . . it was mine." Evan hesitated for about two seconds. "But he wasn’t too happy about it."

There were several moments of silence, and Evan stared straight ahead, keeping watch on Scott out of the corner of his eye.

"Uh . . . oh," Scott said at last, his tone puzzled and uncertain. "That’s, um . . . I’m sorry, dude. I-"

"You surprised?" Evan asked tightly, squelching the memories of Pietro that always accompanied his bringing up the failed romance. He wondered what the white-haired boy was doing, who he was doing, right then. Pietro had no lack of admirers of both sexes – he’d probably started banging a new one a quarter of a second after Evan had told him it was over.

"Surprised?" Scott asked, his eyebrows high. "What do you mean?" They turned a corner and Evan could see the obnoxious pink-neon Burger Barn sign several bocks ahead, throbbing like an open wound.

"That I’m gay. Does that surprise you?"

"Oh." There was more silence. "Uh . . .maybe a little." Out of the corner of his eye, Evan could see Scott glance over at him. "But it’s cool, you know? There’s no problem. I mean, I . . ." he trailed off abruptly.

Evan looked over at him then, noticing that Scott held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled death grip and was staring straight ahead like his life depended on it.

"What? You what?"

"Uh . . . nothing. Forget it," Scott sped up and turned sharply into the Burger Barn entrance. "Uh . . . what do you think? Drive-thru or go in?"

"Uhm, the drive-thru line looks kind of long." Evan eyed the line of cars snaking around the restaurant. "But it looks crowded inside, too, so. . . whatever." He shrugged helplessly, wondering what it was Scott had been about to say.

"Let’s do the drive-thru," Scott maneuvered the convertible into the line of cars. "We’ll get a chance to sit and talk, at least." He smiled when Evan nodded. "So . . . uh, you say the breakup was your idea? What happened – er, if you don’t mind my asking."

Evan sighed. What happened? That was a question he’d been asking himself for three weeks. What happened? It seemed like everything was great between him and Pietro, they spent every bit of free time together, the sex was incredible, but then . . . it had all blown to pieces because Pietro just couldn’t fucking be honest.

"I dunno," Evan muttered as they crept along in line. "Just . . . a bunch of stuff. He lied to me, mainly. He tried to snow me, you know? Talk circles around me, double-talk . . . that sort of thing."

"Uh-huh. One of those," Scott murmured, and Evan looked at him sharply. One of those? Evan lifted a brow. What’s that supposed to mean?

"Uh, I guess," Evan shrugged slightly. "Yeah, I suppose. I mean, you know how Pietro is. And we –"

Scott started, slamming on the brakes quickly. Evan braced himself as the tires skidded, wincing when they came just a few inches shy of the bumper of the car ahead of them.

"Pietro . . . Maximoff?" Scott said slowly, blanching when Evan nodded. "Quicksilver . . . and you?"

"Off and on since we were kids, we’ve kinda . . .yeah." Evan sighed. "It was just kid stuff, though, you know? I never thought I was gay until a couple of months ago. He, uh, he kissed me –" The image of Pietro, his white hair askew and face flushed, pressing eager, hard lips to his in a deserted corridor of hallway played itself out in his mind as it had countless times over the past three months. He felt his stomach drop as it did then when it first happened, felt his body grow warm, his groin tighten. With one kiss, he’d fallen, and then Pietro had to mess it all up. Evan was sure that if he had the good fortune to win over Scott, the older boy would never try to fuck with his head like the speedster had.

"We kissed, and um, just started seeing each other," Evan went on. "Not openly, because we figured the Brotherhood and the X-Men would be kinda of pissed to hear about it."

"Well . . . I can’t say I’m thrilled," Scott said slowly. "But it’s not like we’ve been fighting them much since Mystique left them, so . . ." He scratched his head, looking lost. "But you and Maximoff? I thought you two really hated each other."

"We always laughed about that," Evan said with a reluctant smile. "The rivalry thing . . . it was such a scam. A cover, you know? Kept people from asking . . . questions." Another fleeting image – pale skin bathed in sweat, a cupid’s bow mouth forming an "o" of pure ecstasy, celestial eyes boring into him like a curse – blazed its way across Evan’s brain, and he shivered in spite of himself.

"So your parents . . . don’t know?"

Evan chuckled softly. "You kidding? They would totally freak. I figure they’ve dealt with enough, you know, with the mutant thing and all, without adding being gay to the mix."

Scott nodded a little. "What about Ororo? Have you . . .?"

"I haven’t said anything to her, but auntie might know." Evan shrugged. "She knew I was a mutant before I did . . .wouldn’t surprise me if she figured out how I roll. I think she’d take it better than my parents though, but I don’t wanna test that theory anytime soon."

"Don’t worry, man. No one will hear it from me," Scott said, his voice low. "But Ev, listen. It’s . . . it’s okay." The line of cars moved minutely, and Evan could see the taller teen relax a little behind the wheel.

"What is? Being gay, being a mutant or dating Pietro?"

"All of that, though the last one . . . still throws me a little," Scott answered, smiling ruefully. "Listen . . . I know how it can be . . ."

Evan blinked. Hard. "You . . . you do?" Holy Christ. Fuck. He is. He is! I knew it! He trembled in his seat.

Scott nodded. "Sure. I mean, it’s not like you can help who you fall for, right? Love is one of those things that happens. You just got to roll with it."

"Yeah . . ." The blond looked over at Scott again, mesmerized when the older boy rubbed his chin. "You do . . ."

"I mean, if Pietro made you happy, then that’s cool," Scott went on. "I’m just sorry that it got screwed up."

Me too. He allowed himself a moment of regret, of remorse, before resolving to put away all thoughts of the white-haired boy forever. "Yeah, well, it’s cool. I’m over it. Over . . . him."

"But you said you’ve been down," Scott said, looking at him. "Now that you’ve told me what’s been up, I kind of figured that was why."

"No. Well, not really. See, there’s this other guy . . ."

"Other guy?" Scott looked at him askance. "What other guy?"

Evan allowed himself a small smile. The line was moving more swiftly now, and he could see the garish, oblong drive-through menu coming into view. "Well, there’s this guy I like . . . a lot." He squirmed a little. "A whole lot. He’s really cool, gorgeous, smart -- the whole nine."

"Yeah?" Scott looked interested as they pulled closer to the order intercom, almost astride the scary blinking menu. "Who – oh, wait a minute, let me get this list out." Evan watched in barely concealed enjoyment as Scott wriggled and shifted to get to his back pocket. His hips arched upward, straining against the seatbelt, ad Evan’s eyes greedily followed the movement, vivid daydreams about Scott moving against him in that way flooding his brain.

A low moan escaped the full lips, and Evan shifted in his seat, grateful for the relative darkness. His erection threatened to bore a hole through his baggy shorts, and his flesh tingled maddeningly. He kept his limbs rigid, knowing that he had only to move an arm or a leg a few inches and he’d be touching Scott. And he knew any contact at that point, no matter how brief, would trigger the floodgates. So Evan held himself still, uncomfortable as it was, he knew it was the only way he could keep from coming in his pants. He’d done enough of that with Pietro.

"Evan? You all right?"

The brown boy’s eyes flew open and he flushed at Scott’s concerned look. "Uh, yeah, thanks. Just . . . um . . . I think I was more tired than I thought."

Scott nodded. "I hear that. But, uh, you were saying . . .?"

"I was?" Evan shifted again, trying to relieve some pressure on his aching groin. "Uh, oh yeah. I was. Um . . . I said I’m, um, into someone. A guy . . ."

"Oh." Scott went quiet again. "Uh . . . does he know? I mean, have you told him?"

"No." Evan gulped a little. "I haven’t."

"Are you going to?"

Evan hesitated. Come on. Don’t wimp out. You can’t wimp out now. "Uhm, yeah . . . I am. I think I need to. I’ve been going nuts . . . I can’t keep this in anymore. I need to say something." There was a touch of desperation in the final words, and Evan’s expression turned frantic.

Scott looked a little taken aback. "Whoa, whoa, okay. It’s cool. If you think that’s what you need -"

"He’s what I need," Evan said in a determined tone. "But I have to tell him. Even if . . . even if he laughs in my face . . ." He nearly choked on the word. " . . . I gotta tell him regardless, before I go crazy."

"I think I . . . understand," Scott said, moving the car closer. They were two cars away from the order window, and the blonde could smell the slightly buttery scent of Atomic Fries that wafted from the order center’s window. Evan breathed deeply, letting the tantalizing scent tickle his nostrils, but it was the indiscernible aroma of the man beside him – spice and sweat and Prell shampoo - that was making his mouth water.

"So, uh, I guess you know what you’re going say?" Scott asked, frowning at the list in his hand before again turning his attention to the blonde.

Evan nodded. That was more or less true; the hard part was done. Saying what it was he had to say would be a cakewalk. And he was ready. He could see the woman in the car ahead of theirs fussing with two bratty girls. He watched the drive-thru attendant leaning heavily out of the window, nearly spilling the contents of two overstuffed bags on an equally overstuffed customer. He was ready. There were several instances of chaos unfolding around him, but that strengthened, rather than shook, his resolve. He was ready. Scott was beside him, fumbling cutely with a piece of paper, and the smell of Atomic Fries snaked through the air like the perfumed smoke from a stick of lit incense.

He was ready. Evan took a deep breath. "And I know when I’m gonna say it, too."

"Uhm . . . you do?" The glasses glinted in the harsh neon glow, and Evan could see himself reflected in the lenses. He smiled. "Will it be . . . any time soon?"

"Soon? Try now."

"Hold on a minute, Ev. Hmmm . . . I forget what it is Jean said," Scott muttered. "Garden salad? Or maybe-" He checked himself, and looked up at Evan sharply, his expression a wonder to behold. Evan forced himself to keep looking at Scott, no matter what might happen.

"Now? But –"

Evan shook his head curtly. He was calmer now, and knew that touching Scott would inflame him without causing any explosions. It was safe to touch now. Finally, he could touch.

He carefully placed a hand on the soft cheek, nearly melting through the upholstery when Scott didn’t shrink from his hesitant fingers.

"Scott. I . . . I think I love you."

****

As a leader, Scott was used to being in the midst of difficult, sometimes impossible, situations. He’d been trained to adapt at a moment’s notice to any changes that might come at him, to take a rational approach to problem-solving, and to make sure all the members of his team were accounted for and protected. He felt that he was getting used to adapting, the problem-solving thing and caring for his teammates. The handling difficult situations part was the thing that threw him sometimes, though he was getting a handle on that, too.

But no type of training or Danger Room session could have prepared him for Evan’s words.

Scott, I think I love you . . .

Evan was into him? Into him? Scott blinked rapidly. A few moments ago, he could barely believe that the brown-skinned teen was gay. But not only was he gay, he’d dated one of the most annoying guys on the planet and now was professing his love for him.

All I wanted was some fresh air and a burger, the team leader thought somewhat desperately, searching his skull for something to say. Evan’s hand was hot and gentle on his cheek. It was kinda nice, but for god’s sake, it was Evan. Spyke! Ororo’s little nephew, the fun-loving, hard-playing skater dude that went about like he didn’t have a care in the world. What would Evan see in him? Someone he’d often taunted as not having the ability to really let loose and party.

Evan . . . wanted him? Scott blinked hard, and opened his eyes. When he saw that same serious expression in place, he closed his eyes, easing his foot off the accelerator. Evan wanted him? What the hell had changed? He certainly had not.

"Scott? Uh, you alive behind those shades?" Evan’s gaze was steady, but his fingertips skittered nervously along the pale cheek. "I . . . fuck. Scott? Say something, man."

"Uh . . ." Scott cleared his throat, wondering just what there was to say. What could he say? A few minutes before, he’d been ready to divulge to Evan the secret that he’d kept from everyone -- he was bi, and, in fact, had gone around for a time with a frustrating crush on his good friend Paul. He’d been ready to tell Evan about how keeping his feelings bottled up had driven him to distraction and that if this new person Evan liked seemed as if he’d be the least bit interested, he should go for it.

But the new person was him. Him! Scott still couldn’t believe it, but he knew he had to suspend his disbelief for a moment and figure a way to solve this problem. And it was a problem – a huge one. There was no way he could date any of the guys on the team. Not only were all of them too young, it also would probably make the rest of the X-Men uncomfortable, not to mention said boy’s parents. And Evan was doubly out of the question because of his tie to Storm. There were other reasons that scrolled through the older boy’s head, but the topmost of them, besides Evan’s age, was something he wasn’t sure he was ready to tell anyone yet – and that was that he’d gotten over his crush on Paul and had his eye on . . . quite a different person, entirely.

"Uh, I . . . whoa," Scott cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. His face tingled where Evan had touched him, but he was trying hard not to think about that. "I’m um, wow . . . I guess-" Scott stopped and gathered his thoughts. Rambling like a moron was not going to help anything. "Evan, I-"

He didn’t notice that the darker teen had slipped out of his seatbelt, didn’t notice that Evan had inched closer to him and didn’t see the determined look in the dark boy’s eyes until a split second before Evan leaned up and kissed him, his lips gentle, soft and warm, moving tenderly over his own. Scott was numb for a moment, thunderstruck, before he realized, much to his horror, that he was kissing back.

*****