Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Marvel, and if you steal them Stan Lee
breaks into your house and sniffs your underthings.
Ewwwwwwww.
Author Notes: Part 3 of Awakening, falls into Mutatis Muntandis timeline. Go read the rest of it or I shall set loose my hordes of rabid monkeys with tire irons. http://www.originofspecies.cjb.net (Warning: some yaoi)
Awakening part 3 By starched_undergarments
It had been two days since Pietro rose from his deep slumber, and already he was getting used to living with his new 'team-mates'.
He was now sharing a room with St. John; something he learned was a totally new experience on its own.
The two of them sat on their respected beds; Pietro was looking anxiously out the large bedroom window where as St. John was sprawled out on his bed, humming.
It took Pietro a moment to realize what the song was, when he did he laughed.
"You're humming Boy George??" He asked incredulously.
St. John looked at him and grinned, "Do you really want to huuuuuuuuuuuuuurt me. Do you really want to make me cry?" He sang at Pietro, his pitch low and oozing with sex appeal.
He laughed again and St. John patted a spot next to him on his bed, Pietro hesitated and then sat down next to him. After a few moments he laid down next to the Aussie, the two of them staring up at the ceiling.
"Do you like it here?" St. John asked after a moment, Pietro thought about it and then nodded.
"Yeah, but can I ask you something?"
St. John glanced at him, "Sure mate. Ask me anything."
"Where does my dad sleep when he's here? The porch?"
St. John broke up, his laugh loud and merry, it made Pietro grin.
"No, he sleeps in Clarice's room."
Pietro froze, his jaw stiffening. "My dad.and Clarice?" He said, anger flaring up deep inside him.
St. John looked at him confused, then laughed again. "She doesn't sleep in there with him mate, heaven's no! Jonothon would never allow that, no she sleeps in Jono's bed whenever the boss is home."
Pietro relaxed, feeling like a fool. Of course, that made sense. More than the thought of his father sleeping with such a frail and young woman, who sure as hell wasn't his mother.
"Why doesn't she use the spare room?" He asked, trying to relax the rest of his body.
"That's where Sabertooth sleeps, when he's home that is. Sometimes he just runs off on his own, me and Remy think that he's secretly a drag queen in New York."
Pietro cringed as he picture Sabertooth in feathers and fake breasts, cooing Diana Ross songs.
The two looked at each other and St. John sang a bar of "Why do fools fall in love", the two broke up again and Pietro grinned as John continued.
"With a voice like that you sure could spread some legs," he said and St. John chuckled and rolled over onto his stomach.
"You should hear Clarice sing, my voice is good and all but when she sings.." He paused, taking in a breath. "It's like heaven." He said simply.
Pietro nodded and rolled over as well, the two of them kicking their legs like teenage girls in the midst of gossiping. "She sure is nice," Pietro said plucking some lint off of the bedspread.
"Yeah," St. John agreed then paused, his eyes going serious for a moment, as if he was trying to see something that wasn't there.
He looked over at Pietro, his good-natured smirk returning, "Have you ever worn leather pants?" He asked, and Pietro gave him a quizzical look. He slid off the bed with easy grace and sauntered over to the closet.
After a moment of digging he pulled out a pair and flung them at Pietro dramatically, "Try them on." He said smiling, Pietro fingered them, they were real leather, smooth and smelling of an aphrodisiac.
Why the hell not, he thought to himself.
***
Clarice Ferguson was not one to use violence; in fact she hated it. Hated the way it stung, how it ruined so many lives by doing so little. So When Eric, or Magneto as the others called him, had first presented the idea of her learning how to fight she flat out refused, her body clenching up and her heart stinging.
"I don't want to hurt anybody." She had said quietly, turning her eyes away from his. He had wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, his tall form enveloping hers.
"And neither do I," he said calmly, patiently. She had fought back tears, bitter, hateful memories flooding her mind.
"It's wrong." She said through her quiet tears, he hugged her and tilted her china doll face up at his, his eyes kind.
"But don't you want to be able to protect the ones you care about? Like Jonothon? Or Piotr?"
And so she had begun to train every morning with Yuriko Oyama, a hardened Japanese woman who had been hired by Magneto. She was tough on Clarice and Clarice was a little frightened at first by her harsh and aggressive nature yet in time she grew to be very fond of her teacher, the two would spend hours alone together in the work-out room that was stationed above the penthouse.
Which was where she was now.
Her mind clear, her energy flowing outwards. She stood with her eyes shut, her body poised and ready. She began to run the usual routine, her body going through the movements; she no longer had to think about what she was doing, her body just reacted instinctively. She could hear the people above and below her, their distant movements echoing in her pointed ears, she let her mind wander as she practiced.
Pietro was becoming more adjusted to the team, something that she was glad about. He seemed like such a lost little boy, one who needed reassurance. She smiled faintly and went directly into her gymnastics routine, her body stretching and folding like a master.
*At least St. John is trying his hardest to make him feel at home* She thought to herself, bringing herself down into a splits.
She heard a whistle from behind her, she knew who it was.
"I swear cher, you get more flexible every day."
She stood up and smiled cheerfully at the red-eyed Cajun, "Hi Remy. Did you want to use the room? I'm basically done for the day."
He held his position in the doorframe for a moment longer before entering the room silently, his feet barely making even a whisper across the mats. Barely. It had become a well-known fact that none of the Acolytes, even Remy could sneak up on Clarice. This of course had something to do with her ears which St. John teased her good naturedly about; he would grin and proclaim that the Shire was missing one of their prettiest hobbits.
"Do you need a sparing partner?" She asked, flicking a piece of her hair out of her blue eyes.
"I dink that for tonight I shall be okay," he replied and removed his shirt. He was a lean boy, tight muscled and strong. He gave her a little wink when he noticed she was looking at him, she giggled and knew very well he meant it as a joke. None of the boys liked her 'that' way.
Especially St. John..
***
"Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice," He said through a predatory grin.
Pietro shot him an inquiring glance from his position in front of the full- length mirror, "Yeah?" He asked.
"Oh yeah," St. John said and grinned as Pietro inspected his reflection again. The pants, as he had planned, were snug and curved nicely in all the right spots.
"What about the shirt?" Pietro asked, oblivious to his roommate's heated eyes.
"I think it's a little too big," St. John said absently, relishing the way Pietro stripped it off casually and continued to examine himself, turning this way and that, trying to take in all his sides. Which was exactly what St. John was doing as well.
"You're right," Pietro said, running a hand through his hair. "I do look good."
St. John smiled and eased himself off of his bed, sauntering up behind Pietro, his eyes running up and down the pale boy's body. "Mmmhmm," He said as he took in all the sights.
"Do you think I should get my nipples pierced?" Pietro asked absentmindedly, and St. John could barely contain himself.
"Well that depends," he said, coming up close behind the younger boy, his hand running down his smooth white chest, stopping at the nipples.
"Do you think you could handle a little..pain?" He asked as he playfully pinched Pietro's left nipple. The small boy turned around shocked, his eyes wide and his mouth perched in a little 'o' of surprise.
St. John grinned and kissed him forcefully on the mouth, his tongue slipping across the other boy's lips. He could feel Pietro resisting, feel how he wanted to pull away. He ceased this action by bringing his hands up across Pietro's chest, one hand toying with his nipple, the other snaking its way up and into his hair.
They stood there for a few moments, their tongue's pressing against each other feverishly until Pietro broke away, his cheeks red and his eyes blurry from the sudden passion.
"No," he said breathlessly. St. John moved to kiss him again and the younger boy used his powers and ducked, sending St. John sprawling onto the floor.
He looked up surprised, then grinned foolishly. Pietro looked at him, shame creeping away from off his face, being replaced by a faint smile. St. John laughed and collapsed onto his back, he heard Pietro giggle and then lay down next to him.
The two lay there laughing for who knows how long, the early confusion and sexual frustration drifting off with the sounds of their laughter.
***
Magneto stood, alone on the balcony, watching as the last rays of day drifted into night. He could hear his son laughing with St. John. He could hear the soft sounds of dinner cooking on the stove, Clarice almost always made dinner, once in a while Remy made a dish but only when the others felt that their sinuses needed clearing.
No doubt Jonothon was in his room, and he knew Remy and Piotr were watching T.V. in the living room, he had passed them on his way out to the balcony.
His son was becoming well adjusted, becoming part of the team very quickly, which was a good thing.
Because it was almost time to make his move.
And he needed every member of his team strong and loyal.
Everyone.
***
Author Notes: Part 3 of Awakening, falls into Mutatis Muntandis timeline. Go read the rest of it or I shall set loose my hordes of rabid monkeys with tire irons. http://www.originofspecies.cjb.net (Warning: some yaoi)
Awakening part 3 By starched_undergarments
It had been two days since Pietro rose from his deep slumber, and already he was getting used to living with his new 'team-mates'.
He was now sharing a room with St. John; something he learned was a totally new experience on its own.
The two of them sat on their respected beds; Pietro was looking anxiously out the large bedroom window where as St. John was sprawled out on his bed, humming.
It took Pietro a moment to realize what the song was, when he did he laughed.
"You're humming Boy George??" He asked incredulously.
St. John looked at him and grinned, "Do you really want to huuuuuuuuuuuuuurt me. Do you really want to make me cry?" He sang at Pietro, his pitch low and oozing with sex appeal.
He laughed again and St. John patted a spot next to him on his bed, Pietro hesitated and then sat down next to him. After a few moments he laid down next to the Aussie, the two of them staring up at the ceiling.
"Do you like it here?" St. John asked after a moment, Pietro thought about it and then nodded.
"Yeah, but can I ask you something?"
St. John glanced at him, "Sure mate. Ask me anything."
"Where does my dad sleep when he's here? The porch?"
St. John broke up, his laugh loud and merry, it made Pietro grin.
"No, he sleeps in Clarice's room."
Pietro froze, his jaw stiffening. "My dad.and Clarice?" He said, anger flaring up deep inside him.
St. John looked at him confused, then laughed again. "She doesn't sleep in there with him mate, heaven's no! Jonothon would never allow that, no she sleeps in Jono's bed whenever the boss is home."
Pietro relaxed, feeling like a fool. Of course, that made sense. More than the thought of his father sleeping with such a frail and young woman, who sure as hell wasn't his mother.
"Why doesn't she use the spare room?" He asked, trying to relax the rest of his body.
"That's where Sabertooth sleeps, when he's home that is. Sometimes he just runs off on his own, me and Remy think that he's secretly a drag queen in New York."
Pietro cringed as he picture Sabertooth in feathers and fake breasts, cooing Diana Ross songs.
The two looked at each other and St. John sang a bar of "Why do fools fall in love", the two broke up again and Pietro grinned as John continued.
"With a voice like that you sure could spread some legs," he said and St. John chuckled and rolled over onto his stomach.
"You should hear Clarice sing, my voice is good and all but when she sings.." He paused, taking in a breath. "It's like heaven." He said simply.
Pietro nodded and rolled over as well, the two of them kicking their legs like teenage girls in the midst of gossiping. "She sure is nice," Pietro said plucking some lint off of the bedspread.
"Yeah," St. John agreed then paused, his eyes going serious for a moment, as if he was trying to see something that wasn't there.
He looked over at Pietro, his good-natured smirk returning, "Have you ever worn leather pants?" He asked, and Pietro gave him a quizzical look. He slid off the bed with easy grace and sauntered over to the closet.
After a moment of digging he pulled out a pair and flung them at Pietro dramatically, "Try them on." He said smiling, Pietro fingered them, they were real leather, smooth and smelling of an aphrodisiac.
Why the hell not, he thought to himself.
***
Clarice Ferguson was not one to use violence; in fact she hated it. Hated the way it stung, how it ruined so many lives by doing so little. So When Eric, or Magneto as the others called him, had first presented the idea of her learning how to fight she flat out refused, her body clenching up and her heart stinging.
"I don't want to hurt anybody." She had said quietly, turning her eyes away from his. He had wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, his tall form enveloping hers.
"And neither do I," he said calmly, patiently. She had fought back tears, bitter, hateful memories flooding her mind.
"It's wrong." She said through her quiet tears, he hugged her and tilted her china doll face up at his, his eyes kind.
"But don't you want to be able to protect the ones you care about? Like Jonothon? Or Piotr?"
And so she had begun to train every morning with Yuriko Oyama, a hardened Japanese woman who had been hired by Magneto. She was tough on Clarice and Clarice was a little frightened at first by her harsh and aggressive nature yet in time she grew to be very fond of her teacher, the two would spend hours alone together in the work-out room that was stationed above the penthouse.
Which was where she was now.
Her mind clear, her energy flowing outwards. She stood with her eyes shut, her body poised and ready. She began to run the usual routine, her body going through the movements; she no longer had to think about what she was doing, her body just reacted instinctively. She could hear the people above and below her, their distant movements echoing in her pointed ears, she let her mind wander as she practiced.
Pietro was becoming more adjusted to the team, something that she was glad about. He seemed like such a lost little boy, one who needed reassurance. She smiled faintly and went directly into her gymnastics routine, her body stretching and folding like a master.
*At least St. John is trying his hardest to make him feel at home* She thought to herself, bringing herself down into a splits.
She heard a whistle from behind her, she knew who it was.
"I swear cher, you get more flexible every day."
She stood up and smiled cheerfully at the red-eyed Cajun, "Hi Remy. Did you want to use the room? I'm basically done for the day."
He held his position in the doorframe for a moment longer before entering the room silently, his feet barely making even a whisper across the mats. Barely. It had become a well-known fact that none of the Acolytes, even Remy could sneak up on Clarice. This of course had something to do with her ears which St. John teased her good naturedly about; he would grin and proclaim that the Shire was missing one of their prettiest hobbits.
"Do you need a sparing partner?" She asked, flicking a piece of her hair out of her blue eyes.
"I dink that for tonight I shall be okay," he replied and removed his shirt. He was a lean boy, tight muscled and strong. He gave her a little wink when he noticed she was looking at him, she giggled and knew very well he meant it as a joke. None of the boys liked her 'that' way.
Especially St. John..
***
"Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice," He said through a predatory grin.
Pietro shot him an inquiring glance from his position in front of the full- length mirror, "Yeah?" He asked.
"Oh yeah," St. John said and grinned as Pietro inspected his reflection again. The pants, as he had planned, were snug and curved nicely in all the right spots.
"What about the shirt?" Pietro asked, oblivious to his roommate's heated eyes.
"I think it's a little too big," St. John said absently, relishing the way Pietro stripped it off casually and continued to examine himself, turning this way and that, trying to take in all his sides. Which was exactly what St. John was doing as well.
"You're right," Pietro said, running a hand through his hair. "I do look good."
St. John smiled and eased himself off of his bed, sauntering up behind Pietro, his eyes running up and down the pale boy's body. "Mmmhmm," He said as he took in all the sights.
"Do you think I should get my nipples pierced?" Pietro asked absentmindedly, and St. John could barely contain himself.
"Well that depends," he said, coming up close behind the younger boy, his hand running down his smooth white chest, stopping at the nipples.
"Do you think you could handle a little..pain?" He asked as he playfully pinched Pietro's left nipple. The small boy turned around shocked, his eyes wide and his mouth perched in a little 'o' of surprise.
St. John grinned and kissed him forcefully on the mouth, his tongue slipping across the other boy's lips. He could feel Pietro resisting, feel how he wanted to pull away. He ceased this action by bringing his hands up across Pietro's chest, one hand toying with his nipple, the other snaking its way up and into his hair.
They stood there for a few moments, their tongue's pressing against each other feverishly until Pietro broke away, his cheeks red and his eyes blurry from the sudden passion.
"No," he said breathlessly. St. John moved to kiss him again and the younger boy used his powers and ducked, sending St. John sprawling onto the floor.
He looked up surprised, then grinned foolishly. Pietro looked at him, shame creeping away from off his face, being replaced by a faint smile. St. John laughed and collapsed onto his back, he heard Pietro giggle and then lay down next to him.
The two lay there laughing for who knows how long, the early confusion and sexual frustration drifting off with the sounds of their laughter.
***
Magneto stood, alone on the balcony, watching as the last rays of day drifted into night. He could hear his son laughing with St. John. He could hear the soft sounds of dinner cooking on the stove, Clarice almost always made dinner, once in a while Remy made a dish but only when the others felt that their sinuses needed clearing.
No doubt Jonothon was in his room, and he knew Remy and Piotr were watching T.V. in the living room, he had passed them on his way out to the balcony.
His son was becoming well adjusted, becoming part of the team very quickly, which was a good thing.
Because it was almost time to make his move.
And he needed every member of his team strong and loyal.
Everyone.
***