Jono's tired. Tired of watching Paige and Warren snuggle on every couch, kiss under every tree, and well, tired of them being together. His angst has gotten the best of him; he's ready to blow the school up, again, just to not see them.
Of course, he could leave. But, where would he go with no money? Weapon X blew up, and Angelo's dead, Jubilee's off away, and as for the rest of his old crew? No, he didn't keep in contact. Or maybe he did, but they can't help him at this point. He'd go back to Empire State University, if he hadn't come out as a X-Men, and well, it also wasn't taking publicly known mutants (and thanks to Purity, he was now out for good). So, Jono, boy wonder, is stuck at Xavier's, watching his ex love, and her new love, make love. Not really, of course, but it's a known fact they do, and that they can get pretty loud. He sees why she likes him though. Tall, rich, playboy like Warren? Big muscles, large sword, fluffy angelic wings? Hell, he's pretty sure even Logan likes Warren as eye candy. Who doesn't?
So it wouldn't surprise him to one-day walk in on the two. Or, the other way around.
Warren's tired of seeing Paige try to make Jono jealous. To him, it seems that every time the little wannabe Goth comes into view, she starts acting smuttier. Which doesn't bother him, he kind of enjoys it, but it's starting to get irritating. He loves Paige, truly, but he can't stand being the man in the middle. Honestly, he feels like a play toy, a goat, something just to make Jono jealous. It's working too, the younger man's look-of-death towards Warren is getting scarier, and scarier, week-by-week. So now, he's decided the best place to avoid both of the young X-Men, is the faculty recreation room. Or, the "big-TV-room-no-one-uses-except-for-sex" room. Which, luckily, was void of any mating couples, including Bobby and Jean-Paul (who, honestly, seem to enjoy this couches armrests the most).
Which is where he's sitting, now, looking for something on TV. He starts with channel two, which is news; channel fifty, MTV, The Assistant; forty five, Spike TV, cars; sixty three, Comedy Central, old hack comedians he used to like; fifty five, Nickelodeon. Ah, good old cartoons. Fairly Odd Parents, to be precise. Its dumb, yes, but Warren likes it. But, if Paige walked in, she might be a bit concerned he's watching this, and realized leaving it on CNN, which was currently running stock closing prices, and jacking off to imaginary beings, wouldn't surprise her. She still thinks money makes him hot. (She's right, it does, but not to the extent she thinks. Now, people rolling in money, is a different story.) So, when Jono walked in, Warren didn't bother to look up. In fact, he didn't hear him. His past of not speaking pretty much made him silent as a mouse (and his lack of heavy boots today helped).
Jono walked into a very sticky situation, if he can call it that. Warren, pants open to the world, eyes shut, wrinkled brow concentrating on his fleeting mental image of a nude person, but then... he lost it. Jono, by now, was perched on the island counter behind the winged man, watching him in a mirror (hung directly across from the couch, lovely planning idea that was), and giggling to himself. No, not giggling, he just... grinning, ear to ear. Warren looked so sad, his old deflating penis looked just as sad. Poor wings, he just couldn't keep it up anymore. It must suck being thirty.
"Ahem," he says, the boy with a mouth again, using it as it's intended. "Do you need some Viagra?"
Ooh, cheap shot, thinks Warren, knowing all to well, from his glimpse in the mirror while tucking himself back in, that Jono had been there awhile. "No, but do you need some more alcohol?"
"More wouldn't hurt. I was just thinking... maybe I could help you out, here." With all best intentions, of course. More for himself, then Warren.
"Hah, sure you could. Like I'd trust you. Asshole," said the giant Winged Man, as he got up from the sofa. "Stay away from Paige, got it?" He couldn't help it, it hurt Jono to know Paige was his, and after that cheap Viagra knock, and he had to get him back.
"You think she's yours, you do..." Stuffed, angered, angst-ridden as his nature intended, Jono left the room first. Angel, score one. Chamber, score zero.