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The two pyros twisted around and away from each other, accompanied by swirls of flame. Crouching across from one another, they glistened with sweat; John's pale skin flushed to a pale pink while Warren's dark bronze was glowing in the light. Their chests heaved as they gulped in oxygen.
"Had enough yet, Hot Head?" John sneered as he panted out the question.
"Not by a long shot, Baby Boy." Warren smirked back, his breathing slowing down from a painful draw to an even breath. Looking at each other for a moment, they lunged forward … disappearing in fire.
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Earlier that year
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Looking back, Warren could see it had probably not been the best idea to provoke Magneto, especially when he was already annoyed at the only other fire user at the base. But … really … how was he to know that that box of magnets would do that (why did they have a box full of magnets anyway?). Though the image of the usually serene, bucket helmed man covered in the little black things was priceless (as was the tantrum afterwards), there was no way he deserved to be locked up with THE brat of the compound in … detention … for Tashub's sake.
When he had first come to the Brotherhood, it seemed the other pyro had been fascinated by him … and who could blame him really? It was almost a snowball's chance in hell that you'd come across another mutant with an ability so similar to your own in your lifetime. It was like some strange time paradox rule … only one can exist in the same time frame. Now, he knew that wasn't quite true with powers like Professors Charles Xavier and Jean Summers, or Sabertooth and Wolverine and Hank McCoy, but for those like Mystique, Pyro, Bobby Drake, or Remy LeBeau it was.
Warren supposed the kid had been excited to find someone so similar to himself, someone who could understand the lure of fire better than anyone else. But where he expected to find a comrade in a sense, he found Warren ... dark, untouchable, and cold Warren. How any person could be that cold and still be a fire mutant was probably beyond his understanding. Though it wasn't far from what was in the kid's own soul. Maybe he just hadn't seen enough of it in his life to recognize it. Bitterness can turn anyone cold … even those made of fire.
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Back to the present
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But right now, neither of them were cold … in fact to the observer's eyes, they were burning. Locked in the detention cell, it hadn't taken long for them turn each other's anger and annoyance into a physical anger.
It was insufferable and exhilarating at the same time. Neither could hurt the other with fire, so fists flew instead of flames … though outburst of heat would ripple around the from time to time. Warren was taller than John by an inch or so but the pyro had more compact muscle. At least in his legs, Warren thought as he pushed the kid up against the wall, forearm snug against the kids throat. Pushing just enough for Baby Boy to understand the implied threat, he caught his breath.
Now that he could focus on something besides the pyro, he noticed something that would most definitely have embarrassed the hell out of him when he was younger. Somehow, the two of them had ended up pressed up against one another from knee to neck … Warren's forearm against Pyro's throat, his other hand resting on the wall next to the guy's head … the man's hands resting on him, one on his hip, one just below his ribs. Oh this definitely wasn't Baby Boy, Warren thought as he felt a firm hardness press against the curve of his hip.
That was not the problem, though. The problem was the answering hardness he felt in his groin, pushing up against Pyro's rather big erection. A sound drew his avid attention away from the … thing … and up to John's face. The little shit was grinning like the cat that got the cream. A suspicious glint in his eye was only warning he got before Pyro thrust his hips against Warren. The burst of pleasure caused his eyes to fall shut, bottom lip caught between his teeth to keep in the gasp that wanted out. While he was distracted, his forearm loosened its hold on the throat beneath it. Before he could even open his eyes again, Warren found the positions reversed. It was him held against the wall, John the one holding him up.
A languid roll of hips showed him that John had somehow worked his way between Warren's legs, pressing up tight. Debating for a minute whether or not Magneto would hurt him if he deflowered (or maybe just debauched) the pyro, he mentally shook his head and gave the magnet user the finger. Who cared … besides, it'd been a while since he'd or Pyro had had the alone time.
Looking at John through lowered lashes, he saw the disappointed look begin to cover the pyro's face. Laughing silently, he put his arms on the pyro shoulders and started to rock, ever so gently against him. The ecstatic look was quickly taken over by lust. An arm curving around Warren's waist … a hand cupping the back of his head …and a mouth on his made him stop thinking.
John's lips were chapped and they were hot to the point of burning. The kiss wasn't perfect, it was sloppy and wet and hard. The man's tongue was in his mouth, sliding along his gums, tonguing his teeth, twisting around his own slick limb. Hands fumbled from his back to his front and pulled down his zipper, than slipped back to cradle his buttocks. Reaching down he returned the favor, keeping one arm around John's neck as he plunged his hand down the ridiculously tight jeans the man wore. Feeling hot hard flesh in his hand, he pulled until he felt it against his groin. John groaned as he felt flesh on flesh …sliding his hand from Warren's bottom to his thigh, he lifted it to hook around his waist … and everything was better.
Warren's hand was still between them, moving along their shafts, making everything slick and smooth and hot … the friction of their thrusts driving them mad. Taking his lips away from John's, he ignored the way his back was starting to ache … he ignored the way every thrust or roll of the hips from John made his breath hitch and his breath come out in moans … he instead brought his lips to John's ear biting and sucking the lobe into his mouth, gnawing ever so slightly. By now they were just a twisting, writhing, so close to fucking, mass of dark and light … nothing mattered but the need to cum so hard they felt it in their bones.
Feeling the tightening coil in his stomach reach the breaking point, Warren released the flesh in his mouth and breathed into the pyro's ear …
"You know your mine now…" and then bit the lobe hard.
Then they were a writhing, cumming, screaming mess …till all their breath was gone and they sank down to the floor in a crumpled heap.
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Minutes passed as heaving breaths slowed, racing hearts beat evenly again, and muscles turned to relaxed goo. Warren ended flat on his back, eyes closed; John resting his body between Warren's spread legs … sandy blond head resting on Warren's chest, arms curled gently around the legs that held him.
"You know," John murmured into the sweaty flesh beneath his cheek, looking up at the lazy debauched face of the man he'd been so jealous of when they'd first met … "it works both ways."
"Hmm … what?" Warren mumbled, drifting in a pleasant post-orgasmic haze. Suddenly feeling John crawl up his prone body, he opened his eyes to find the pyro face to face with him; nose gently brushing his own … apparently crouched on all fours above him. Feeling said nose drift past his cheek and start nuzzling that spot right below his ear that was always so damn sensitive … John's warm breath on his ear as he closed his eyes again …feeling the pyro whispering … "It works both ways, Warren Peace. You're mine just as much as I am yours."
"And don't you forget it, St. John Allderdyce." Warren turned his head and whispered directly into John's mouth, slipping his tongue in with the words.
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Oh god…this was supposed to be SMUT…not FLUFF…excuse me while I go shoot my muse…and the plot bunny wherever it ran off to.