Fanfic: Double Date Backstory Drabbles
Title: Double Date Backstory Drabbles
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: underage drinking
Summary: the friendships of young Tony Stark and Charles Xavier and of young Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr.
Note: Backstory for this fic. I have so many more ideas for their backstories, but I’ll probably never write them.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Xavier,” Tony says, standing straight-backed and proper in the den. Charles, hiding just outside the door, giggles into his fist. “I think you should reconsider your decision to send Charles to school in Connecticut. My father is sending me to a better school that’s much closer.”
Next year they will be eleven and it will be the end of home-schooling and the beginning of boarding school for them both, but their parents have chosen different schools. When Charles had asked his mother if he could go to the same school as Tony, she had brushed him off. So Tony had compiled a neat folder full of the benefits of his school and prepared a speech to accompany it.
Charles can tell that his mother is mildly impressed, but mostly annoyed. Tony looks and sounds ridiculous to Charles, everything too proper and in place, but it’s working on the adults.
Three months later, Charles and Tony grin at each other from the two beds in their new, shared, dorm room.
--
Erik changes out of his gym clothes as fast as possible, the chatter of the locker room washing over him, too fast and jumbled for him to translate. His family had moved from Dusseldorf to New York a month ago and Erik is still struggling to grasp the language fully. So far he has managed not to fail any of his classes, but he is failing miserably at gaining any semblance of a social life.
“Hey,” a voice says from somewhere down and to the left. It’s a boy from his class who Erik vaguely recognizes as Steve, if only because the gym coach is always yelling at him to keep up, and he’s smiling up at Erik. “You’re new, right?” the boy asks, holding out his hand. “I’m Steve.”
“Erik,” Erik says, shaking the boy’s hand cautiously.
Steve grins at him. “You’re going to try out for the baseball team, right? You were amazing in class today. I’m definitely going to try out, but our team needs someone like you!” He goes on about the school’s baseball stats, following Erik out of the locker room and down the hall, and Erik only understands half of what he’s hearing. Steve doesn’t seem to notice.
Halfway to his locker, Erik makes up his mind and stops, smiling back at Steve. “When are try outs?” he asks, pulling his student planner out of his bag.
--
Charles thinks, for the first time in his life, that he is glad that Tony is at university before him; this gives Tony a nearly unlimited access to alcohol and a private place to drink it when Charles visits even though they are still underage. They have been drinking for hours and Charles is finally starting to feel the anger and resentment he had arrived with melt away. Even so, as he watches Tony dismantle his alarm clock at his desk across the room, he feels obliged to explain himself.
“I told my mother today,” he says, stretching out across Tony’s bed.
Tony’s fingers stop and he looks up at Charles, eyes creased in thought. “Told her that you’re not going to be a neurosurgeon like she wants because you’re a little girl and can’t stand the sight of blood?” he asks, voice strangely sober.
Burying his face in a pillow, Charles groans, “no, I hadn’t even-she’ll really kill me for that-but-no. Tony, I,” he swallows and looks back over at Tony, who’s still watching him, “I told her I’m gay.”
Two more moments of introspective calculations and Tony is moving across the room, sliding onto the bed next to Charles, pulling him into a hug. Charles wraps himself around Tony and buries his face in Tony’s chest. “Fuck her,” Tony says roughly, and Charles smiles.
--
By senior year, Steve is a giant and captain of the football team and the baseball team, but he still manages to eat lunch with Erik in the art room every day.
Steve clears his throat and sets his sketch pad to the side. “I got a letter from the art school I applied to,” he says softly.
“And?” Erik asks, looking up from the architecture software he’s using and raising an eyebrow.
“And I got in,” Steve says, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Erik smiles back at him, saying, “congratulations!”
“Erik,” Steve says, smile fading a little, “I think that I’m going to accept.”
“And give up your full-ride football scholarship?” Erik asks, voice dripping sarcasm.
“I know you don’t see it, but this is a big decision for me!”
“But you have decided, right? You’re going to give up football so you can stop hiding?” Erik asks, eyes narrowed with thinly veiled hostility.
Steve lets out a long breath and nods. “Yes, I’ve decided. I’m going to be an artist,” he says, tone firm. Erik continues to hold his gaze, saying nothing, and Steve lets out a soft laugh. “I’ll stop hiding when you stop hiding,” he says finally.
Erik’s grin is too sharp. “Deal.”
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: underage drinking
Summary: the friendships of young Tony Stark and Charles Xavier and of young Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr.
Note: Backstory for this fic. I have so many more ideas for their backstories, but I’ll probably never write them.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Xavier,” Tony says, standing straight-backed and proper in the den. Charles, hiding just outside the door, giggles into his fist. “I think you should reconsider your decision to send Charles to school in Connecticut. My father is sending me to a better school that’s much closer.”
Next year they will be eleven and it will be the end of home-schooling and the beginning of boarding school for them both, but their parents have chosen different schools. When Charles had asked his mother if he could go to the same school as Tony, she had brushed him off. So Tony had compiled a neat folder full of the benefits of his school and prepared a speech to accompany it.
Charles can tell that his mother is mildly impressed, but mostly annoyed. Tony looks and sounds ridiculous to Charles, everything too proper and in place, but it’s working on the adults.
Three months later, Charles and Tony grin at each other from the two beds in their new, shared, dorm room.
--
Erik changes out of his gym clothes as fast as possible, the chatter of the locker room washing over him, too fast and jumbled for him to translate. His family had moved from Dusseldorf to New York a month ago and Erik is still struggling to grasp the language fully. So far he has managed not to fail any of his classes, but he is failing miserably at gaining any semblance of a social life.
“Hey,” a voice says from somewhere down and to the left. It’s a boy from his class who Erik vaguely recognizes as Steve, if only because the gym coach is always yelling at him to keep up, and he’s smiling up at Erik. “You’re new, right?” the boy asks, holding out his hand. “I’m Steve.”
“Erik,” Erik says, shaking the boy’s hand cautiously.
Steve grins at him. “You’re going to try out for the baseball team, right? You were amazing in class today. I’m definitely going to try out, but our team needs someone like you!” He goes on about the school’s baseball stats, following Erik out of the locker room and down the hall, and Erik only understands half of what he’s hearing. Steve doesn’t seem to notice.
Halfway to his locker, Erik makes up his mind and stops, smiling back at Steve. “When are try outs?” he asks, pulling his student planner out of his bag.
--
Charles thinks, for the first time in his life, that he is glad that Tony is at university before him; this gives Tony a nearly unlimited access to alcohol and a private place to drink it when Charles visits even though they are still underage. They have been drinking for hours and Charles is finally starting to feel the anger and resentment he had arrived with melt away. Even so, as he watches Tony dismantle his alarm clock at his desk across the room, he feels obliged to explain himself.
“I told my mother today,” he says, stretching out across Tony’s bed.
Tony’s fingers stop and he looks up at Charles, eyes creased in thought. “Told her that you’re not going to be a neurosurgeon like she wants because you’re a little girl and can’t stand the sight of blood?” he asks, voice strangely sober.
Burying his face in a pillow, Charles groans, “no, I hadn’t even-she’ll really kill me for that-but-no. Tony, I,” he swallows and looks back over at Tony, who’s still watching him, “I told her I’m gay.”
Two more moments of introspective calculations and Tony is moving across the room, sliding onto the bed next to Charles, pulling him into a hug. Charles wraps himself around Tony and buries his face in Tony’s chest. “Fuck her,” Tony says roughly, and Charles smiles.
--
By senior year, Steve is a giant and captain of the football team and the baseball team, but he still manages to eat lunch with Erik in the art room every day.
Steve clears his throat and sets his sketch pad to the side. “I got a letter from the art school I applied to,” he says softly.
“And?” Erik asks, looking up from the architecture software he’s using and raising an eyebrow.
“And I got in,” Steve says, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Erik smiles back at him, saying, “congratulations!”
“Erik,” Steve says, smile fading a little, “I think that I’m going to accept.”
“And give up your full-ride football scholarship?” Erik asks, voice dripping sarcasm.
“I know you don’t see it, but this is a big decision for me!”
“But you have decided, right? You’re going to give up football so you can stop hiding?” Erik asks, eyes narrowed with thinly veiled hostility.
Steve lets out a long breath and nods. “Yes, I’ve decided. I’m going to be an artist,” he says, tone firm. Erik continues to hold his gaze, saying nothing, and Steve lets out a soft laugh. “I’ll stop hiding when you stop hiding,” he says finally.
Erik’s grin is too sharp. “Deal.”