[#298] Disappearance (Generation X, X-Men Comicverse)

[soricel]

Theme Prompt: #298 – Disappearance
Title: She Bit Me and It Felt Like a Kiss
Fandom: Generation X, X-Men (Comicverse)
Rating/Warnings: T
Bonus: No
Word Count: 477
Notes: Kinda loose interpretation of the prompt--hope it's okay! Set after Generation X: Volume 2. 

 

Her fangs were gone. Fallen out or shrunk back or just disappeared.

 

They were gone and he should have been happy about it. He saw the way Jubilee ate and drank in the first days of her return to (relative) normalcy, gorging herself on the junkiest of junk foods and the most delicate of delicacies, getting drunk on cheap beer and pricey sake, savoring the flavors she'd been deprived of for so long. He sat bundled in the shade as she sunbathed on the lawn, found the shadows beside the park's sunniest paths as she sauntered along in nothing but a tank-top and running shorts, no clunky amulet bouncing off her chest. She couldn't stop smiling, and he should have been smiling too, or at least projecting a smile into her mind's eye for her to imagine in place of the scarf covering his non-mouth.

 

But there were no fangs in her smile. And he missed them.

 

She'd only fed on him that once, down in the wreckage underneath the city. "Just a nip," he'd said, drawing up his sleeve and offering her his arm. She hadn't needed more than that; she had her supply of bloodbags back up in the school, and he knew she never wanted to be in the position where she needed to feed from anyone like that--especially when there was the chance that Shogo could see. But Jono had kept thinking she'd ask him again.

 

Maybe he just wanted to feel needed, like he had something to offer besides an endless capacity for destruction.

 

But no, he thought, sitting on the couch beside her late one night after they'd put Shogo to bed, it was nothing so abstract. It was the fact that her bite had felt like a kiss, even more than her attempt at kissing him through the thick wool of the scarf wrapped around the furnace where his mouth should have been. He couldn't kiss her, but he could open himself to her another way, could let his blood roll into her mouth the way he wished his tongue could.

 

And now he couldn't.

 

It hadn't occurred to him that there were other things they could do--other things she'd want to do--besides make out or suck his blood. Things he didn't need lips for and she didn't need fangs for.

 

But it had occurred to her, apparently. The movie had ended and he could feel her looking at him, could hear her teeth--her normal teeth--worrying her lip. "What do you wanna do?" she asked.

 

He sent some answer into her mind, but it didn't matter; she was already moving, climbing on top of him, her thighs tight against his hips.

 

And when she lifted his arm and kissed the scar where she'd torn open his skin, it felt so much better than the bite.