Wheee.. Thanks for reviewing. I think I should probably communicate more
with you readers.. so, maybe in the next chapter? I'm a lazy thing.
*
Lance was taking off in a pink rocket. He had his feet up on the dashboard and was nibbling on a long carrot. Sheathed in his belt was a sword and over his shoulder he had a large, heavy rifle. Looking out of the window, he could see vast black horses galloping through space, kicking up clouds of nuclear dust as they went. He could see rows of skyscrapers rising majestically from the surface of little planets and as he came closer, statues of himself with one fist raised in triumph came into view.
Suddenly, Todd was in the rocket dressed as a town-crier and holding a large bell. The pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth, ring the bell, ring the bell. Ding dong, ding dong, light, dark, light, dark, light-
What?!
Coming slowly back to the world of the conscious, Lance could feel an incessant flickering of the light falling upon his face. It was incredibly irritating, particularly for one who couldn't roll over or bury themselves under a pillow to block out the offending flashing.
Reluctantly, he opened one eye to see the source of the problem. There it was, standing by the window with a mischievous glint in his eye, pulling the curtains open then shut.
Pietro Maximoff, nuisance extraordinaire.
"Mmmmphuukkkhh offphhh Pyedrohh," Lance mumbled, eloquent as ever.
"Wakey-wakey, Lancelot!" chirped Pietro in response. Lance began to wish that looks could kill, or at least wipe the smile off that smug little face, that handsome face with the very kissable mouth and the. This wasn't his room! Which meant that it wasn't his bed. Which could mean all kinds of things.
"This is your room," remarked Lance as he inhaled Pietro's faint scent from the pillow.
"Yes, Lance, good boy!" Pietro gushed in a voice not unlike Jean Grey's when talking to somebody either foreign or considerably more stupid than her. "And do you know your ABC?"
Lance shot him another evil look. Oh yes. He was mastering it now. Soon he would be able to burn holes through people with a blink alone.
Pietro sighed theatrically and opened the curtains properly. "Seriously, nothing happened. You fell asleep there and I took the floor. What," he added, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm going to take advantage of a poor semi-quadriplegic?"
"A semi-what?"
"Look it up."
Lance yawned, letting Pietro examine his face with an adorably wrinkled nose.
"You need a shave," the speed demon declared as if Lance's very life depended upon it. "You need a shave and your hair could do with a wash."
"No-oooo," whined Lance. "Lemme sleep."
Pietro tutted and shook his finger mockingly as he looked down his long nose in melodramatic scorn. "Don't you know sloth is one of the seven deadly sins?"
"So's pride," Lance replied, catching Pietro tweaking his hair as he peered at his reflection in the chrome alarm clock. Why was Pietro being so damn annoying anyway?
This was left unanswered as the boy in question swiftly ripped the covers off his bed and pulled Lance up with him. For a few seconds, Pietro stared into his eyes and Lance wondered if he was going to get another kiss but something forced the icy blue eyes to look away. The moment was lost and Pietro slung an arm around Lance's waist in a comradely fashion as they walked to the bathroom.
"Ugh," Lance remarked, as Pietro placed a stool by the sink and motioned for him to sit. "It smells like Todd in here. Have we got hot water?"
Pietro ran the tap and seconds later, shook his head. Lance began to protest- there was no way in hell he was washing his hair in cold water.
"Worry not," the speed demon proclaimed and zipped downstairs. Lance could hear the kettle being boiled and began to worry. The idea of having boiling water tipped all over his head appealed to him even less than freezing water. Luckily, Pietro appeared to have taken the kettle off before the telltale ping of it having boiled and was back with a jug of warm water in no time.
"The things I do for you," Pietro teased as he snatched up a few bottles from the side of the bath. It was only then that it occurred to Lance that Pietro might just be happy for the first time in ages. He had a tendency to be a little.. irritating when he was cheerful after all. Did that mean that the kiss had made him happy?
Suddenly, Lance felt Pietro's slim body pressing into his back, cool hands tilting his head down as the water rushed over his head.
"Too hot?" Pietro asked. 'Hell yeah,' thought Lance. Having Pietro that close gave him more than shivers up his spine, that much was certain.
"It's.. fine," Lance mumbled, struggling to get any words out. It was more than he could bear as Pietro leaned even closer into him, beginning to massage his scalp with skilled fingers. The fresh, lemony scent of the shampoo was what he had inhaled from the boy's pillow that morning.
"So. Any sign of your arms coming back?" the speed demon enquired as he rubbed gentle circles into Lance's temples. He could feel Lance's body slackening against his with the relaxing massage. Lance himself was in utter bliss, transported back to the times when his mother used to wash his hair like that. Nobody had cared for him in that way for a long time and there was absolute perfection in the way that Pietro's fingers caressed his scalp, never creating tangles or pressing too hard. It was. heavenly.
"I can feel something in my thumb," Lance replied, his voice softening with calm. "A kind of tingling."
"Great, the paralysis will be gone before you know it." And we'll be able to do all kinds of naughty things, Pietro added silently.
"Yeah," Lance sighed wistfully. "Though I could get used to this kind of treatment, you know.Mmmmmmm."
Pietro grinned and continued kneading Lance's scalp. The small noises of contentment Lance was making were starting to get him a little hot and bothered. Another throaty sigh from the boy caused Pietro to press himself up tighter against him and to rub the shampoo into his hair like he was caressing entirely different parts of the body.
"Do you ever think about the future, Lance?"
Lance blinked bubbles out of his eyes. "I used to. I used to want the standard things; a wife and kids and a house somewhere nice.. Maybe a dog. They had a dog at one of my foster homes- Lucky; I think she was a golden retriever. I sometimes wonder what happened to them- the foster family and the dog. She'd be pretty old now.
Sometimes I think I'd still like to have kids. It'd be cool to be a dad.. I wouldn't screw it up like mine did. I guess I like the thought of having something to look after. What about you?"
"Kids? No." Lance was aggrieved to find that the massage came to an end as Pietro drenched his hair with more water. "My dad put me off for life. Other than that. I don't know, don't really want specific things. Glory, maybe. Definitely love."
Pietro began to work conditioner through Lance's hair, stroking from root to tip. Lance arched into the touch again, feeling a strange mix of contentment, completion and arousal.
"You are. fucking. beautiful," Lance sighed, beginning to think that he was enjoying the whole experience far too much. Pietro raised an eyebrow, his fingers stopping at Lance's neck. Only yesterday Lance had been convinced that he loved Kitty. Then he said he didn't. Then he'd kissed him, and hadn't he said that he meant it? It was all happening too fast; part of him wanted to let go and run.
"Pietro?"
The boy blinked and started to rub in the last of the conditioner, watching the way Lance's wet hair shone in the light.
"Last night, I meant it. I said it loads of times and I'll say it again- just.. believe me."
"I don't know," Pietro muttered in an uncharacteristically small voice. He emptied the jug over Lance's head, letting the conditioner rinse out. When he was sure that the boy's hair was clean, he took a fluffy towel and wrapped it around Lance's head in a turban before turning him round to face him.
"Why don't you know?" Lance pressed as Pietro began to slap shaving cream on to his face. A firey gleam in the blue eyes distinctly said 'drop it', but Lance was not one for reading people. "Pietro, I know I'm a jerk but I'm not a liar and never have been. Have I ever lied to you?"
Pietro had to admit that he hadn't.
"I'm scared of this too, you know," Lance continued. He had never heard himself speak so freely or articulately. This was not a conversation he'd be having with Kitty-that is, if they would ever happen to talk at all amid all the rampant sex. "It's all really new to me. You know what a dumbass I was before all this."
Something in Lance's words and soft voice crushed the insecurities. 'Stop being a pansy!' he screamed at himself mentally. 'He's gorgeous and he wants you. Get in there, boyo!'
A slender, almost feminine hand took Lance by the chin impulsively. "Stop talking."
Then, Pietro brought his lips to Lance's with hungry fervour. He licked at Lance's bottom lip impatiently until the boy opened his mouth to accommodate his tongue. He tasted every corner of Lance's mouth, imagining that he was making it his. His hands slid around the boy's naked back and chest, copying the motions he had used on Lance's scalp. The shaving cream was cold against his skin, a bizarre contrast to the searing heat of the kiss.
When the kiss finally ended, the two boys sat staring at each other. It was a beautiful, confused moment made strange by Lance's turban and the way their faces were both smeared with cream. The passion soon rolled away and the bizarreness of their appearances sank in, starting off a hysterical fit of laughter.
There was definitely something odd about those boys.
*
Ah yes.. If you were wondering, that WAS all phallic imagery in Lance's dream. It's a little symbolic of the new feelings Pietro has awakened in him.
Leave a review. You know you want to. Ah, go on..
*
Lance was taking off in a pink rocket. He had his feet up on the dashboard and was nibbling on a long carrot. Sheathed in his belt was a sword and over his shoulder he had a large, heavy rifle. Looking out of the window, he could see vast black horses galloping through space, kicking up clouds of nuclear dust as they went. He could see rows of skyscrapers rising majestically from the surface of little planets and as he came closer, statues of himself with one fist raised in triumph came into view.
Suddenly, Todd was in the rocket dressed as a town-crier and holding a large bell. The pendulum swung back and forth, back and forth, ring the bell, ring the bell. Ding dong, ding dong, light, dark, light, dark, light-
What?!
Coming slowly back to the world of the conscious, Lance could feel an incessant flickering of the light falling upon his face. It was incredibly irritating, particularly for one who couldn't roll over or bury themselves under a pillow to block out the offending flashing.
Reluctantly, he opened one eye to see the source of the problem. There it was, standing by the window with a mischievous glint in his eye, pulling the curtains open then shut.
Pietro Maximoff, nuisance extraordinaire.
"Mmmmphuukkkhh offphhh Pyedrohh," Lance mumbled, eloquent as ever.
"Wakey-wakey, Lancelot!" chirped Pietro in response. Lance began to wish that looks could kill, or at least wipe the smile off that smug little face, that handsome face with the very kissable mouth and the. This wasn't his room! Which meant that it wasn't his bed. Which could mean all kinds of things.
"This is your room," remarked Lance as he inhaled Pietro's faint scent from the pillow.
"Yes, Lance, good boy!" Pietro gushed in a voice not unlike Jean Grey's when talking to somebody either foreign or considerably more stupid than her. "And do you know your ABC?"
Lance shot him another evil look. Oh yes. He was mastering it now. Soon he would be able to burn holes through people with a blink alone.
Pietro sighed theatrically and opened the curtains properly. "Seriously, nothing happened. You fell asleep there and I took the floor. What," he added, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm going to take advantage of a poor semi-quadriplegic?"
"A semi-what?"
"Look it up."
Lance yawned, letting Pietro examine his face with an adorably wrinkled nose.
"You need a shave," the speed demon declared as if Lance's very life depended upon it. "You need a shave and your hair could do with a wash."
"No-oooo," whined Lance. "Lemme sleep."
Pietro tutted and shook his finger mockingly as he looked down his long nose in melodramatic scorn. "Don't you know sloth is one of the seven deadly sins?"
"So's pride," Lance replied, catching Pietro tweaking his hair as he peered at his reflection in the chrome alarm clock. Why was Pietro being so damn annoying anyway?
This was left unanswered as the boy in question swiftly ripped the covers off his bed and pulled Lance up with him. For a few seconds, Pietro stared into his eyes and Lance wondered if he was going to get another kiss but something forced the icy blue eyes to look away. The moment was lost and Pietro slung an arm around Lance's waist in a comradely fashion as they walked to the bathroom.
"Ugh," Lance remarked, as Pietro placed a stool by the sink and motioned for him to sit. "It smells like Todd in here. Have we got hot water?"
Pietro ran the tap and seconds later, shook his head. Lance began to protest- there was no way in hell he was washing his hair in cold water.
"Worry not," the speed demon proclaimed and zipped downstairs. Lance could hear the kettle being boiled and began to worry. The idea of having boiling water tipped all over his head appealed to him even less than freezing water. Luckily, Pietro appeared to have taken the kettle off before the telltale ping of it having boiled and was back with a jug of warm water in no time.
"The things I do for you," Pietro teased as he snatched up a few bottles from the side of the bath. It was only then that it occurred to Lance that Pietro might just be happy for the first time in ages. He had a tendency to be a little.. irritating when he was cheerful after all. Did that mean that the kiss had made him happy?
Suddenly, Lance felt Pietro's slim body pressing into his back, cool hands tilting his head down as the water rushed over his head.
"Too hot?" Pietro asked. 'Hell yeah,' thought Lance. Having Pietro that close gave him more than shivers up his spine, that much was certain.
"It's.. fine," Lance mumbled, struggling to get any words out. It was more than he could bear as Pietro leaned even closer into him, beginning to massage his scalp with skilled fingers. The fresh, lemony scent of the shampoo was what he had inhaled from the boy's pillow that morning.
"So. Any sign of your arms coming back?" the speed demon enquired as he rubbed gentle circles into Lance's temples. He could feel Lance's body slackening against his with the relaxing massage. Lance himself was in utter bliss, transported back to the times when his mother used to wash his hair like that. Nobody had cared for him in that way for a long time and there was absolute perfection in the way that Pietro's fingers caressed his scalp, never creating tangles or pressing too hard. It was. heavenly.
"I can feel something in my thumb," Lance replied, his voice softening with calm. "A kind of tingling."
"Great, the paralysis will be gone before you know it." And we'll be able to do all kinds of naughty things, Pietro added silently.
"Yeah," Lance sighed wistfully. "Though I could get used to this kind of treatment, you know.Mmmmmmm."
Pietro grinned and continued kneading Lance's scalp. The small noises of contentment Lance was making were starting to get him a little hot and bothered. Another throaty sigh from the boy caused Pietro to press himself up tighter against him and to rub the shampoo into his hair like he was caressing entirely different parts of the body.
"Do you ever think about the future, Lance?"
Lance blinked bubbles out of his eyes. "I used to. I used to want the standard things; a wife and kids and a house somewhere nice.. Maybe a dog. They had a dog at one of my foster homes- Lucky; I think she was a golden retriever. I sometimes wonder what happened to them- the foster family and the dog. She'd be pretty old now.
Sometimes I think I'd still like to have kids. It'd be cool to be a dad.. I wouldn't screw it up like mine did. I guess I like the thought of having something to look after. What about you?"
"Kids? No." Lance was aggrieved to find that the massage came to an end as Pietro drenched his hair with more water. "My dad put me off for life. Other than that. I don't know, don't really want specific things. Glory, maybe. Definitely love."
Pietro began to work conditioner through Lance's hair, stroking from root to tip. Lance arched into the touch again, feeling a strange mix of contentment, completion and arousal.
"You are. fucking. beautiful," Lance sighed, beginning to think that he was enjoying the whole experience far too much. Pietro raised an eyebrow, his fingers stopping at Lance's neck. Only yesterday Lance had been convinced that he loved Kitty. Then he said he didn't. Then he'd kissed him, and hadn't he said that he meant it? It was all happening too fast; part of him wanted to let go and run.
"Pietro?"
The boy blinked and started to rub in the last of the conditioner, watching the way Lance's wet hair shone in the light.
"Last night, I meant it. I said it loads of times and I'll say it again- just.. believe me."
"I don't know," Pietro muttered in an uncharacteristically small voice. He emptied the jug over Lance's head, letting the conditioner rinse out. When he was sure that the boy's hair was clean, he took a fluffy towel and wrapped it around Lance's head in a turban before turning him round to face him.
"Why don't you know?" Lance pressed as Pietro began to slap shaving cream on to his face. A firey gleam in the blue eyes distinctly said 'drop it', but Lance was not one for reading people. "Pietro, I know I'm a jerk but I'm not a liar and never have been. Have I ever lied to you?"
Pietro had to admit that he hadn't.
"I'm scared of this too, you know," Lance continued. He had never heard himself speak so freely or articulately. This was not a conversation he'd be having with Kitty-that is, if they would ever happen to talk at all amid all the rampant sex. "It's all really new to me. You know what a dumbass I was before all this."
Something in Lance's words and soft voice crushed the insecurities. 'Stop being a pansy!' he screamed at himself mentally. 'He's gorgeous and he wants you. Get in there, boyo!'
A slender, almost feminine hand took Lance by the chin impulsively. "Stop talking."
Then, Pietro brought his lips to Lance's with hungry fervour. He licked at Lance's bottom lip impatiently until the boy opened his mouth to accommodate his tongue. He tasted every corner of Lance's mouth, imagining that he was making it his. His hands slid around the boy's naked back and chest, copying the motions he had used on Lance's scalp. The shaving cream was cold against his skin, a bizarre contrast to the searing heat of the kiss.
When the kiss finally ended, the two boys sat staring at each other. It was a beautiful, confused moment made strange by Lance's turban and the way their faces were both smeared with cream. The passion soon rolled away and the bizarreness of their appearances sank in, starting off a hysterical fit of laughter.
There was definitely something odd about those boys.
*
Ah yes.. If you were wondering, that WAS all phallic imagery in Lance's dream. It's a little symbolic of the new feelings Pietro has awakened in him.
Leave a review. You know you want to. Ah, go on..
