this is REALLY improbable. How did Nate get out of his binds? How did he jump on Pyro Storm? I like this, but you need to have it be realistic if you’re going to talk about real-life Extraordinaries.
FireStoned 16:36: SHADOW STAR IS STRAIGHT. HE LOVES REBECCA FIRESTONE. STOP MAKING HIM GAY, IT’S WEIRD. HE’S NOT GAY. NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE GAY ALL THE TIME. I DON’T UNDERSTAND YOU SLASH SHIPPERS. STOP MAKING THINGS GAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ReturnOfTheGray 17:15: Sorry I couldn’t beta this. Stuff came up. But you did good. I really liked it. Tho, you really talk a lot about Pyro Storm being more muscular than Shadow Star. What’s that about? Text you later.
1
Nick Bell stared at his phone as he shifted on his bed in his room. “Not gay,” he muttered to himself. “He has sequins on his costume.” He thought about deleting the comment, but others were already responding to it, coming after FireStoned with a vengeance, so he decided to leave it up. Whoever FireStoned was, they’d learn fast that one absolutely did not comment on a ShadowStar744 fic like that. After all, Nick was one of the most popular writers in the Extraordinaries fandom (even if he’d had to use the screen name of ShadowStar744 since Shadowstar1–743 were already taken, those bastards), and slash would always be more popular than the hetero nonsense FireStoned seemed to want. Straight people, Nick thought as he shook his head. He’d never understand them.
The other forty-two comments, though. They weren’t too shabby. Especially for a shorter chapter that ended on the thirty-second cliffhanger in a row. Thank god his fans understood. They were the only reason he’d continued writing what could be considered a quarter-of-a-million-word masturbatory ode to Shadow Star. Without them, the fic probably would have ended a long time ago, or worse, been one of those unfinished works that turned into a cautionary tale for new people in the fandom. He could deal with the occasional idiot like FireStoned.
He switched over to Tumblr and reblogged a few things, thumb twitching over a rather risqué drawing of Shadow Star in an evocative pose that was both physically impossible and erotic, but decided against it. Ever since his dad had discovered what Tumblr was and that his son had accidentally posted a drawing that apparently no one under the age of eighteen should be looking at, he’d kept things clean. It was the only way that Dad had let him keep his Tumblr page at all, even after the powers that be decided showing something as inconsequential as nipples could be considered pornography. That, and his dad had demanded the password. Nick had nightmares of his father logging on himself and posting to all of Nick’s followers that he’d be grounded if anything remotely explicit showed up on his page again, just like he’d threatened to do.
Nick had been mortified.
Which, of course, was made worse when Dad frowned, and as if it were an afterthought, said, “Also, I feel like we need to discuss how it’s a naked man on your page, Nicky. Unless it’s just supposed to be artistic. I don’t get art.”
What Nick said next weren’t words, not really. They were a combination of sounds better suited to a nature documentary on the mating habits of elks in the Pacific Northwest. His brain had shorted out as he’d tried to come up with a logical explanation as to why he’d decided to reblog a picture of Shadow Star with a comically large bulge that made him look like he needed to seek medical attention immediately.
His father waited.
Finally, Nick said, “Yeah. So. Um.”
And Dad said, “Right. Have you had sex?”
“No, Dad, oh my god, why would you even—”
“Do you know what condoms are?”
“Yes, Dad, oh my god, I know what condoms are—”
“Good. That means you’ll use them if, and when, you decide to have sex. Which won’t be for a very long time.”
“Yes, Dad, oh my— I mean no, I’m not having sex, why would you even say that?”
“If it were with a girl, I’d be telling you the same thing. Wrap it, Nicky. Always wrap it before you stick it anywhere.” He tilted his head and squinted at his only son. “Or if it’s stuck in you. It don’t matter to me one way or another. What’s that called? Bottoming? I don’t care if you’re a bottom or the other one. Use protection.”
Nick had gone into a full-blown meltdown: synapses firing, eyes bulging, breath caught in his chest as