Lance and Scott glowered at each other, stalled at the small, slim bridge. Both males exuded tension, which wasn't covered by the faux-casual way they shoved their hands into their pockets and slouched.
Victor and Logan watched from the sidelines, by the woods, but that didn't matter with their eyesight.
A cocky grin on the tanned young man, a half-bitter smirk on the shade-wearing ones'.
Logan watched, waiting to see what would happen. Victor had to stop himself from shoving the two boys into the river for their stupidity.
"You gonna move, Shades?" Casual, slightly threatening.
"Nope. Guess you'll have to." The threat returned, confidently.
Avalanche stood a little straighter, and Cyclops tensed his arms.
Logan rolled his eyes, and Victor had to bite back a derisive snort. They were like testosterone filled twelve year olds. And the leaders of their respective teams, too? it was sad.
"Anyone follow you?" Less tension, a bit tentative.
"Nah. They're all ordering pizza. Sabretooth's gonna have his hands full, no problem." Cocky, assured, hands slipping out of his pockets to loop into belt-loops.
"Guitar Hero war in the living room for the others. Wolverine will be having a hissy fit." A smirk, hip to the side now, relaxed.
The dishblonde haired and stocky built mutants both held growls in the back of their throats. Nice to know they were so underestimated.
Both men were distracted by their bitter thoughts by a rustle of bushes, a thump of solid bodies hitting the ground, and a few groaned, little sweet nothings that each wished they really didn't have the hearing to hear so clearly.
"You gonna tell X bout this, Shades?" Grovely, hungry with hormones, and laced with worried mistrust.
"What do you think? Gonna tell Mystique?" Derisive, knowing the answer even as he asked and saw the tanned young man shake his head through ruby shades.
Logan and Viktor inched away as the words dissolved into lip-locks, growled half-threats and stiffled moans.
"You gonna tell Raven, furball?" Gruff, as always, more curious than he let on.
"She'll figure it out. You gonna tell Chuck?" A bit deeper-pitched, wondering what the reactions of both 'leaders' would be.
"Nah. He prolly knows, anyway. Up for a beer?"
"Kid love got ya feelin' sentimental, runt?"
"Makin' me sick, more like it."