Firebug: Ch. 29 - Boiling Point

Roman kept his head down as he moseyed through the halls. He could hardly focus on his classes at all, thanks to the nuclear bomb Nurse Flanagan dropped on him last night. Having the ability to control one element was enough of a challenge, but two? Two felt impossible. Like, hiking up Mount Everest in nothing but his boxer shorts impossible.

A roll of distant thunder over the school made him flinch, his hands tightening like a pair of pin vices on his backpack straps. Did he do that? Really, there was no way to tell. Just in case, he took a quick detour to the boys' bathroom and locked himself in a stall, forcing himself to breathe.

"Calm down, Big Guy," he muttered, "Don't do anything stupid."

The toilet gurgled behind him, letting him know his little pep talk definitely was not working. Desperate not to destroy the school's plumbing again, Roman migrated from the stall to the sinks instead. The tap turned on by itself, filling the basin in front of him with cold water before he even thought to do it manually.

This Elemental stuff was too freaky for words... but he had to admit, it was kinda cool, too.

Hesitantly, he waved a shaky hand over the tap, exhaling when it turned off again with a squeak. When he was sure no one else was around, Roman splashed a few handfuls of water on his face. In the past, washing his face like that had always been calming. Now, to his surprise, the effect was stronger than ever before. Like someone had dumped a truckload of Xanax into the city reservoir. It felt so good, Roman was sorely tempted to stick his whole face in the sink. And he probably would've, too, if an arm hadn't suddenly appeared around his shoulders.

"Durant! Long time no see, Buddy," Jasper crowed.

The water in the sink immediately spun itself into a mini whirlpool, which Roman quickly dispatched down the drain. He had to keep his cool no matter what. Especially around Hill Academy's Douchebag-in-Chief.

"Not in the mood, Pierce," he muttered, slapping the bully's arm off.

"Whoah, Mr. President, chill," Jasper stepped back, hands up and palms out in a surrender, "I come in peace. A lil' birdie told me it's your birthday."

"Well, your 'little birdie' needs a new calendar," Roman grumped, "My birthday's not for another three days yet. But... thanks anyway, I guess?"

He tried to side-step around Jasper, hoping their weird conversation was at an end. As predicted, though, the redhead slid right back into Roman's path without skipping a beat.

"Don't you want your present?" he asked, his acne-scarred face stretched in the shittiest shit-eating grin.

There was nothing in the entire world Jasper could offer that Roman wanted. Except, maybe, a sworn oath that he'd never have to see the conniving jerk's face ever again. All he could think was that Jasper was trying to start another fight. Instead of telling Jasper to shove it and leave him alone - which was probably what the redhead expected - Roman put on a phony smile of his own.

"Gosh, that's real sweet of you, Jas," Roman said, sarcasm dripping from every word, "What's you get me? I hope it's a pony! Ooh, or a new X-Box!"

Jasper's slimy grin just got slimier, a cruel chuckle bubbling up his throat. "No hints," he cooed in a sing-song voice, "I left it for you in your gym locker. You'll just have to wait for fifth period to 'open' it. Catch you then, Birthday Boy."

Roman would have bet serious cash that Jasper was kidding about the so-called "present". He could only imagine what it could be, running countless scenarios in his head throughout his next few classes. Each one worse than the last. When fourth period ended, Roman took his time getting to the gym. Whatever was waiting for him in his locker, he wanted nothing to do with it. As soon as he entered the locker room, a few of the guys were already snickering. Roman kept his head down and his fists clenched as he approached his locker, trying to keep cool. With one hand on the latch and his weight balanced on his back foot, he took a deep breath.

"Just get it over with," he grumbled, then yanked the locker open.

No stink bombs went off. No glitter or food coloring exploded in his face. Nothing gross or sticky poured down onto his head. For a bare, blissful second, Roman let himself relax. Until, that is, he realized there was a body falling out of his locker. He caught the poor schmuck automatically, not sure they were even alive at first. It took another second for two blatantly obvious facts to register.

One, the dazed, half-dead dude was buck naked; and two-

"Theo?!" Roman blurted, pushing the Brit's sweaty curls out of his face anxiously, "What the hell?! Are you okay?!"

Theo just squinted and blinked at him to begin with, gradually growing more alert. Waves of relief broke over his face, his eyes immediately filling with tears. Although he had every right to bawl like a baby, it seemed Theo was using everything he had to keep it together.

"Romeo," he sniffed, "I-I'm alright... I think."

Theo was still talking, but Roman stopped paying attention. A hundred percent of his focus was on the other side of the locker room, where Jasper and Goons were yukking it up like hyenas on laughing gas. Some of the other guys were cracking up, too, many of whom Roman thought were decent dudes. Adding insult to injury, a lot - Jasper included - had their phones out, immortalizing Theo's shame with every rapid snap of their camera apps.

This was the final straw. Jasper could do whatever he wanted to Roman... but nobody hurt Theo and got away with it.

The entire gym shook with an explosive thunderclap, making every guy in the locker room freeze. All eyes were on the ceiling, watching the lights flicker dangerously. High up on the walls, every window showed a pitch-black sky, echoing the growing rage in Roman's soul. The logical part of his brain knew he was losing control. The rest of him didn't care.

"Romeo... stop," Theo whispered, his feverish hand cupping Roman's cheek suddenly, "They're not worth it. Please-"

Theo's pleas were drowned out by the howl of a siren outside. The windows rattled from the wind and rain beating against them, already spider-webbing with cracks. Roman knew Theo was right: he needed to make it stop. Unfortunately, he didn't know how.

The locker room door few open a second later, making everyone within hit the ceiling. Coach Guff was on the other side, a bright-orange safety vest squeezed over his pot-bellied torso. Even though he already had their attention, he gave the whistle clamped in his teeth three sharp blasts.

"Saddle up, Men!" he barked, "A tornado has just touched down outside! This is not a drill! Into the hall, now! Move it, move it, move it!!"

While the other guys tripped over themselves to evacuate the locker room, Roman peeled off his jacket and wrapped it around Theo.

"Go, Bello," he insisted, "Hurry! Get out of here!"

"Good idea," Theo agreed, sliding his arms into the letterman's sleeves.

After tying a towel around his waist, he grabbed Roman's hand, pulling him toward the door. Roman planted his feet, though, much to Theo's obvious alarm and confusion.

"Romeo, what're you doing?!" he cried, "We must leave! It isn't safe here!"

"I know," Roman said, squeezing Theo's hand before letting it go, "I can't stop it... but at least I'll know you're safe."

Theo's beautiful, blue-green eyes widened with realization, his jaw dropping open like he'd been slapped.

"I am not leaving you to die here all alone, you thick-headed muppet!" he spat, an angry tear rolling down his cheek, "Now stop this nonsense and move your ruddy arse!"

Roman had to applaud his boyfriend's stubborn loyalty, but he didn't have time to. Coach Guff stuck his head back into the room suddenly, blowing his whistle at the couple again sternly.

"Quill! Durant! That wasn't a suggestion!" he snapped, "Move your tails, before-!"

The locker room's windows blew out that second, cutting the coach's rant short as glass shards and marble-sized hailstones rained down on all their heads. Coach Guff hit the dirt moments before an entire section of lockers uprooted themselves and skidded into the doorway, blocking it completely. The barely audible whistles and swears from the other side of it were the only indication Roman had that the coach was still okay.

Roman yanked Theo to his chest automatically, his arms coiling around his boyfriend's head to shield him out of instinct. He didn't really want to die, but he was willing to if it meant Theo would live. Now that they were both trapped, panic set in hard and fast. Before Roman knew it, they were standing in the eye of the storm. Moving wasn't an option, but staying put didn't seem like a hot idea either. Only after the room was filled with swirling, deadly shrapnel did he realize the answer.

Roman could see the wind.

It was amazing. Unbelievable. Terrifying. He saw its shimmering, deep purple current swirling around him like a ribbon. Taunting him. No... playing with him. Trusting his instincts, he threw out his hand and actually grabbed it, wincing as the icy gale shredded his flesh with thousands of stinging raindrops. To his surprise, it quivered in his grip, writhing like a cat trying to free its tail from a beartrap. Roman shook a little, too, at the raw power it possessed. At his power. Suddenly, Roman knew exactly what to do. What he needed to do.

For Theo.

Using the warm, trembling body in his arms as motivation, he pulled the untamable current against itself. Every muscle screamed, including a few he didn't know he had. The tornado fought him tooth and claw, only wanting to go where it desired. But Roman was stronger. Even if he didn't really think so, he had to make the tornado believe that. It took everything he had, plus a deep, guttural scream of frustration, but the current eventually bent to his will. After a handful of minutes that felt like hours, the funnel he stood within dissipated.

Roman chuckled in dazed disbelief up at the cold blue sky, only half-aware that the locker room had a new sunroof.

"Bello... look," he wheezed, "I did it..."

He was still giggling like an idiot when he hit the floor.