Scott fell into a guilty sleep, though it was, in a way, relieving to have finally done what he'd wanted to for so long. He'd hoped not to dream of her again, it would simply be too much, but his luck had apparently run out...
...Scott walked along the hallway to his office, humming darkly to himself. It hadn't been the best of days, and he was exhausted. Opening the door, he faced it as he shut it, before turning to face an empty room. Or, rather, what should have been an empty room.
Katie was sitting on his desk, looking at him almost hungrily. She was wearing a long black bathrobe (though he had the distinct impression that whatever she was wearing under it was both lacy & brief), and when she slid off the desk there was the distinct click of high heels. Deliberately sashaying forward, she gave him a slow, vixen smile, reaching out to place on hand on his shoulder and the other cupping his face. "You look so lonely," she purred, gently rubbing his shoulder.
He choked on a gasp, while she continued rubbing his shoulder, gazing up at him through her lashes. "Don't you get lonely sometimes... Scott?" she her voice a light purr while she toyed with his tie idly.
He gulped, "Sometimes." he admitted, bitterly (not that she needed it).
She stood on tiptoe, leaning close, "You need a woman's touch..." she slid a hand up and down his chest slowly, popping open one or two buttons.
"But-" He managed to choke out, wanting her to stop as much as he didn't. "You- we... we can't-"
She only smiled up at him again, deftly untying his tie and tossing it off to the side. "I'm not going to tell..." She ran her fingers across his chest again, gently raking her fingernails across what skin she had bared, pressing her alluring length against his. "Besides," she continued, taking advantage of his (still) complete surprise at the situation and giving him a faintly triumphant well-you-haven't-tried-to-stop-me grin, even more painstakingly slowly then before raking a hand up his thigh, "I know you want me," she whispered, breath hot across his neck.
Jesus... "Katie we cant- ah." he had started out in a firm put-her-in-her-place voice but his sentence ended with a loud exhale, as that hand slid smoothly over the intersection of his trousers between his legs. He failed to bite back a groan, "Katie!" he meant his tone to be scolding, but it came out to be one of need and desire.
She laughed softly, moving on teasingly up his lower abdomen. She plucked playfully at the bottom of his shirt, un-tucking it. "I want you to make love to me." She moaned breathily. "Let me..." her hand teasingly slid underneath his shirt to lay her palm flat upon his stomach.
Scott shook his head, trying to resist. Knowing that she wouldn't stop even if he did refuse her... only tease him until he couldn't take it anymore.
She knew that his resolve had limits, and seemed hell-bent on pushing him to the point where he could no longer resist her advances. Sliding her hand further up under his shirt she began popping open the buttons, running her other hand over the skin she bared. "What's the harm if no one knows?" she breathed, sliding one hand up his chest to rest at his collarbone, the second to hook her fingers ever so slightly under the waistband of his pants. "Please Scott," She whispered, lying her face on her hand, eyelashes and lips fluttering against his neck. "I want you..."
He squeezed his eyes shut, not that she could tell behind his glasses, trying to muster the strength to shake his head, to push her away. But his muscles were tense from resistance and he couldn't bring himself to move. He groaned with his teeth clenched, trying to prevent the words that he wanted to scream from spilling out. I want you too, so badly.
Hot and moist, her lips trailed soft butterfly kisses down his neck, pausing at his collarbone, tongue darting out to taste him. All the while her mouth explored every inch of his bared skin, her hands slid up and pushed the fabric of his shirt off, and it slipped down his shoulders and fell in heap on the floor. She whispered his name softly between soft kisses all over his bared chest, lips making soft smacking noises as they came away from nibbling, kissing and sucking teasingly. "Please..." she breathed, coming to a halt to nip with her teeth at the thin skin just above the waistband of his pants.
Scott could hardly breathe, never mind speak. He cleared his throat, unable to take much more, his mind screamed NO but his lips formed the words, "Yes."
She looked up at him, both triumphantly and aroused, and he found himself dragging her back to her feet, hands practically tearing off her clothing as she finished tearing off his. They were moaning together, as he touched what he'd wanted to touch for so long, kissed her as he'd wanted to kiss her for so long... holding out as long as he could before finally throwing her on his desk and having her, finding ecstatic pleasure in both the having and the hearing her scream his name...
...waking up with a muffled swear as his alarm went off, rather louder than usual.
Grumbling sleepily, Scott slapped the button on top of his alarm clock brutally. Yawning, he sat up, stretching and running his fingers through his bed-head mop of brown hair. His eyes were closed of course, and he kept them closed, wondering sleepily if he had pulled his shades the night before.
Scott Summer's window shades had been specially designed for him to block solar energy from the sun out of his room. Scott's power allowed him to convert solar energy from the sun into powerful optic blasts, unfortunately due to an accident in his youth, brain damage prevented him from being able to control the blasts. It was like having the his own personal power switch stuck on 'ON'. So if the sun were to be blocked out, he could go about his business with out having to put his protective glasses on at all, since there was no solar energy to convert.
Tentatively, he opened an eye and surveyed the room. Nothing was blasted to pieces so he figured it was safe to go about his morning routine without his glasses. Sighing with slight relief, he got up. After making his bed he fished in one of his drawers for some clothes. He felt gross after his dream, but it was nothing a damp washcloth and some soap couldn't cure. Quite frankly, he didn't feel like leaving his room and having to put those damned glasses on just to take a shower.
He felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. He'd had another dream about her. Damn it. This was getting out of hand. Very out of hand.
It had been one thing, in the beginning, to have had a dream. It happened. But then he'd actually touched her at the dance, and it had started getting harder and harder to get her out of his mind. Then he'd started writing the notes... he'd started writing the first one, not intending to give it to her, but just to try and distract himself. And that had backfired. Then there was last night, when he'd gone and snuck into her room and taken some advantage of her sleeping state. And there was the new, much more disturbing dream. At this rate, he wouldn't last another week or two before finally really trying something, and there would go his job. His life. Goddamn.
Sighing in frustration, Scott went to inspect himself in a mirror that hung on the wall above a washbasin and a jug of water that sat on a small table. A man with bright blue eyes stared blankly at him from the other side of the mirror, blinking sleepily. He inspected his chin wearily. Slightly stubbly. He needed to shave, and clean himself up. He poured some water into the washbasin, but that wouldn't do. Cold water was not exactly a pleasant prospect.
Turning back to his bedside table, he jammed on his visor, while snatching up a razor, shaving cream, and a washcloth from one of the small drawers in the table, then opened a shade a crack, allowing sunlight to filter into the room. Carefully, he aimed a short blast of small caliber into the basin of water, which set the water to boiling slightly. He then shut his shade and waited a few minutes for the water to cool and for his powers to fade before taking his visor off and tossing it onto his bed. He then went about shaving, all the while staring resentfully at his sleepy features, and at the same time enjoying the look of his face without his glasses on for a change. If only he could walk around like this... let people see beyond the expressionless glasses that he wore..
He'd been able to do that all of once, two winters ago, when there had been an exceptionally violent blizzard. The entire place had been snowed in, and for all of a day he'd been able to really look at people. But even then, having people diving off to either side terrified of being burnt when they saw he wasn't wearing glasses hadn't done much for his feelings either.
He sighed again, putting the razor down and checking for missed spots. Dipping the washcloth into the still warm water, and removing his clothes, he cleaned himself as quickly as he could without becoming distracted or disturbed, then donned some fresh ones.
He observed himself closely, noting the way his blue shirt brought out the bright blue eyes that stared blankly back at him. Those eyes that had long since given up showing emotion, since it was useless. He had become so much more accustomed to showing emotion through the rest of his face. He attempted to smile; it just barely reached his eyes.
Feeling the same hopeless, helpless frustration building up in side him that had caused him to break several other mirrors before this one, he punched his hand through the mirror with a strangled cry of anger. The mirror shattered into a million sparkling pieces. A few pieces jutted out from his knuckles in jagged angles and he laughed at the humor of it almost hysterically.
When he calmed down, he surveyed his surroundings. Damn. Logan would give him hell for having to go and fetch another mirror. He flinched when he noticed that his hand had begun to throb. He plucked the shards of glass from his knuckles. He snorted. At least his claws were removable.
- - -
Scott glared rather pointlessly at the banana nut muffin sitting on his plate. It wasn't its fault that he'd had to put on those damned glasses to come down to breakfast, it wasn't its fault that his hand was wrapped haphazardly in gauze and throbbing, and it wasn't its fault that he was going to have to explain to Logan about yet another broken mirror. It also wasn't its fault that he still felt guilty as hell. Looking morose, he broke a piece off. As the muffin had done nothing to start his problems, it couldn't solve them, but at least it tasted good.
As he thought, when Logan came down to breakfast and Scott explained his situation, Logan burst out angrily.
"Jesus Christ, Slim!" he burst, using his favorite nickname apart from One-eye, Scooter, and Boy Scout (Scout for short), "That's got to be the 15th mirror this month. Are you really that emotionally unstable, or do you go around smashing mirrors on purpose?!" he bellowed over Scott's muffin at him.
"Logan you're attracting attention." he growled, through gritted teeth. He had a particularly bad headache this morning.
"When doesn't he, Professor?" Nicole's voice called in an odd greeting behind him. She was standing a ways behind Katie, who was standing directly behind Scott. Nicole looked oddly angry this early in the morning, and Katie smiled in greeting.
He jumped. Calm down... she's probably just going to ask you a question.
Katie blushed slightly while he stared at her expectantly. Waiting for her to weigh him down with questions on their latest Math assignment. "Um professor. We..." She began, but Nicole cleared her throat and gave her a look to say; leave me out of this it was your idea "I just noticed that your hand was bandaged and was wondering what happened. Then Logan started shouting so I figured I'd see what was going on..."
Scott sighed, half-wondering what everyone's reactions would be if he told her all the truth. 'well, I'd had this dream about fucking you on my desk. Then woke up and had to shave/clean up, and decided to smash my mirror because I hate the way I smile without my glasses on.' No, that was probably a bad idea. "When isn't Logan shouting?" he commented instead, less harshly. (Nicole nodded in agreement). "I had an argument with my mirror this morning, and it won." He finished, looking at the bandage on his hand somewhat unhappily.
Katie flinched, "Ouch.. You should probably go and your hand looked at.. there might be glass that you can't see embedded in your skin.." she said, concern flashing in her eyes as they flicked to inspect his bandaged hand.
Scott laughed, shaking his head. "I'm fine. I've had worse." he said lightly, waving away her suggestion.
Katie bit her lip, looking unsure. "Alright.. that's all I wanted to know... Oh! Actually. Are we having that test today in Math?" she asked hesitantly. Dreading the answer.
He smiled and nodded.
Nicole groaned from behind Katie. "I haaate mmmaaattthh! Now I have to go study! Quick! Katie! If we leave now we'll have a good hour to study before classes!" with that, Nicole took hold of Katie and dragged her away at a run, not sparing even the smallest of backward glances for Scott or Logan.