Title: "Winter with His Lion"
Author: Kat Lee, the author formerly known as Pirate Turner
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They'll never feel the blizzard.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, names, codenames, places, items, fandoms, titles, and etc. are always © & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Any and all original characters and everything else is © & TM the author and may not be reproduced in any way without the author's express, written permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: 244. That's the number of stories that were sitting on my hard drive collecting dust because I lack the energy and time to take care of them as I once did. My betaing pattern has always been to write, then type up if written on paper, the story, read it aloud to my beloved Jack and our children, editing as I go, and then finally format and post. Sadly, this part is simply taking too much of my time and energy, and my beloved Jack and I have too little time together in person these days to be able to keep up with my stories. So what to do? Give up writing? I actually considered it for a while, tried to make excuses to myself other than the large number of stories collecting cyber dust on my computer, as to why I lacked the energy and Muse to write new tales. And then, with the turn of the new year, I decided to stop running and face the problem. The problem is, quite frankly, that once one gets so bogged down in formatting and editing that writing is no longer a pleasure but the actual posting of those writings becomes a hassle and - egad! - work, it's time to cut something out, and that will never be the writing process. So, in short, yes, there will be mistakes in this tale. Yes, it's missing about half of the header information I usually include. But I wrote it for pleasure and am posting it in hopes of sharing that pleasure with others. Do with it as you will.

He crept in between old friends and wriggled on tip toes down the aisle. Histories richer than his and loves sweeter than his best, homemade ice cream filled the room. Each story had its own scent, and their musk assailed his nose as he crept toward his favorite place. He could have gone anywhere in that room, past, present, or future, but there was only one place Bobby Drake wanted to reside.

He continued to sneak carefully toward his goal until he was able to wrap his arms around it and hold it tight. As snow fell outside, heat blazed within the library as Bobby's cold lips snuggled into warm, blue fur. Hank removed his spectacles and laid them down on the book before him that was more ancient than Bobby's grandfather and thicker than the stack of failed tests that had followed Bobby since Kindergarten.

Purring, Hank told him, "I knew you were coming before you even touched the door."

"And yet," Bobby teased lightly, not in the least upset or surprised that his super lover had heard his approach, "here you are."

"Always, my beloved." Hank grasped one of Bobby's chilled hands, brought it around him, and kissed passionate fire into it. His furry brows wriggled suggestively as Bobby's free hand caressed his strong back. "Furthermore, between you, me, and these four humble walls of our stronghold, I can quietly confess that my presence here it not solely dedicated to our educational friends nor my own never-ending quest for knowledge improvement."

"Hank?"

"Yes, Rrrobert?" Beast purred.

"Just say you love me."

Hank laughed and spun him around. He pressed him between him and the long table. There was no gap between them or the table, and Bobby could clearly feel every inch of his lover's growing interest in their game. Hank's yellow eyes sparkled dazzlingly down at Bobby as he purringly confessed, "I shall never merely say the worrrds, Rrroberrrt, but always, I shall act upon my desires and drrreams."

With that proclamation spoken, Hank began to yet again show his cherished Iceman just how vastly much he did love him, melting his ice and ravishing his lips with his own. His tongue thrust into his mouth as he set Bobby on the table and his book. He spread his legs apart and slipped up in between them as Bobby's tongue stroked his fangs. Bobby's eager mouth fully swallowed Hank's excited roar.

As the snow continued drifting down outside, they remained cuddling, kissing, and otherwise stoking their own fire. A full blizzard might hit New York wide open that day, but for Hank and Bobby, in their own library, they would always be as hot as July - or Africa, Bobby reflected for Hank was, surely, his own fuzzy, blue, and undeniably mighty lion!

The End