Author’s Note: This is pretty much just going to be smut. Not that the whole point of the story isn’t smut, really, but since there’s nothing else really in this part, I might as well be honest about it. ;-D Just read and enjoy! Chapter Six is coming soon.
I really hope I don’t need to
point out which song I’m using here, but just in case, it’s Last Note of Freedom
by David Coverdale. It’s most
likely found on the Days of Thunder soundtrack, which is a
kick-ass 80’s movie (for all you young’uns out there). Oh, and one really quick
translation. Ich verstehe
means I understand in German.
;-P Kurt grew up in Bavaria;
what do you want?
This story takes place after
“Day of Reckoning”. It is erotica,
and therefore is not for the eyes of those under 18 or easily offended by sexual
situations, homo- or hetero-.
X-men: Evolution is the
property of the WB, Marvel comics, and several people that I’m probably
forgetting. You can’t sue me! I don’t have any money anyway, so it
wouldn’t do you any good. :-P There
are also random songfic elements to this story; the songs used (plus a few
others for good measure) are listed below and belong to their respective artists
and recording companies. If you do
not have these songs or have never heard them, AudioGalaxy is a free peer-to-peer mp3 site
where they can likely be downloaded.
I especially recommend the songs by Anathema, Godgory, Linkin’ Park,
Depeche Mode, Poe and Nickelback as theme music for Wanda.
Comments, questions, and
favorable reviews are encouraged.
Criticisms that are phrased civilly will be taken under advisement. Flames will be fueled with napalm and
returned, causing the offending keyboard to melt internally and be unable to
manufacture any further unchivalrous nonsense. You have been
warned.
Recommended Musical
Accompaniment: Play the Game-
Motorhead
It Doesn’t Even Matter- Linkin’ Park
Angry Johnny- Poe
Blasphemous Rumors- Depeche Mode
Dogma- KMFDM
How You Remind Me- Nickelback
Torpedoes- MDFMK
Empty- Anathema
Conspiracy of Silence- Godgory
Last Note of Freedom- David Coverdale
Nothing Else Matters- Metallica
Can I Touch You… There- Michael Bolton
To The Moon and Back- Savage Garden
After they’d stuffed themselves, Pietro shooed Kurt upstairs, promising
to zoom through the kitchen and clean up.
Kurt was still chuckling over the flip to Pietro’s wrist as he chased the
elf away from the dirty dishes. “If
I know Lance, which I do, he’s brooding over the fight with Summers. Just bamph or poof or whatever you do
upstairs and snap him out of it.
Well, go on!” It was enough
to give Kurt a case of the giggles, which he still had when he appeared in
Lance’s bed with a soft bamph.
“What the-?” Lance
scrambled, almost falling off the bed.
When the newcomer’s identity registered, Lance’s entire body uncoiled…
well, almost his entire body.
I could go a hundred years without
forgetting how he felt in my arms… “Hi.”
“Hi.” Kurt desperately
wanted to curl into those muscular arms, but he had to be sure that Lance still
wanted him. It had seemed almost
too tender for a one-night stand, and Pietro wasn’t acting like it had been, but
still…
Lance couldn’t resist him. Kurt was warm and comfortable and smelled
intoxicating: peaches and innocence
and man. Rolling closer, Lance
tucked the elf snugly against his body.
“You went off alone?”
“I had some thinking to do,” Kurt replied.
“Really?” Lance gently
brushed his lips over Kurt’s. “What
about?”
“About you.” Kurt sealed his
lips against Lance’s, his tail stroking the length of Lance’s body. Lance responded as Kurt had expected,
peeling the clothes from Kurt’s body with almost clumsy haste. “Mein Gott,
Lance…”
“You taste so good,” Lance murmured raggedly. Jesus, he hurt… he’d never been loved in
his whole life… it hurt so much… Kurt arched into his embrace, eagerly
reciprocating every kiss and nibble and caress; his responsiveness drove Lance
half mad. Hungry and aching from a
dozen old wounds, the brunette rolled with Kurt in his arms, kissing Kurt even
as he pulled the elf down, impaling his lover to the hilt on his
lance.
Kurt gasped, taking a moment to adjust. Lance’s breath was ragged, his face
contorted almost as if he were in pain…
“Lance?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you all right?”
Lance opened his eyes, and Kurt’s heart ached at what he saw there. The beautiful, sensual, powerful man
beneath him gazed up with a battered, broken soul; a little boy who couldn’t
understand why no one loved him. It
was an expression Kurt would have given his soul to erase. Slowly, Kurt shifted, bending to offer
Lance his mouth while remaining fully impaled on Lance’s erection. Lance gasped sharply as the hot,
viselike grip of Kurt’s body sent electric sparks through his veins. He reached up, gripping Kurt’s forearms
as he fought for control; Kurt chuckled as he broke Lance’s grip and laced his
hands with the brunette’s, effectively pinioning Lance where he lay. Kurt then very slowly ran his tongue
over the curve of Lance’s sensually full lower lip.
Lance shuddered. As did the
bed. Kurt
smiled.
With each loving caress, every open kiss, every erotic bite he could
devise, Kurt wore Lance down.
Without knowing it, Lance had awakened a creature of intense sensuality
in his furry blue elf, and the rock-tumbler was helpless in the face of it. No one save Pietro had ever inflamed him
so, and he needed the affection so desperately… Kurt felt the cry of his soul and
responded, brushing tender kisses along Lance’s throat as he gently guided Lance
down onto his side, snugly wrapping his legs and arms around Lance’s waist and
kissing him sweetly on the lips.
“Ich
verstehe, mein liebe,”
Kurt murmured. “Just let it all
go.”
For one wrenching moment, Lance couldn’t move. His heart clutched, and then he did just
as Kurt asked: he let go. With almost savage ferocity, Lance used
every trick he’d ever learned, tormented every erogenous zone Kurt had, pounded
almost viciously into Kurt’s willing body.
Kurt accepted it all, reflected only love and tenderness back at him,
moaned and arched and writhed in Lance’s arms with elfin abandon. Lance pushed Kurt from orgasm to orgasm,
needing to feel Kurt exploding in his arms, desperate for it…
It seemed like hours before Lance finally came with Kurt, pouring into
his body and kissing Kurt with almost bruising force to muffle his near-scream
of release. When the last shudders
faded, the two collapsed into one another out of sheer exhaustion. Kurt was drained; Lance seemed
half-dead. For long moments, they
lay there, curled tightly against one another for comfort, listening to the CD
Lance had put in shortly before Kurt’s arrival.
Here I am, Burning Man
Singing a song, my open soul
Will time pass me?
All my dreams, I have to know
I don’t wanna be cheated
I can’t go on in a world where love is beaten
Rise up, Burning Man
Seize the right and take command
Days of thunder see me shine
All my dreams turn out fine
I know the suffering will end, my friend
When the last note of freedom is rung throughout the land
I know the hateful will bend
When the last note of freedom is heard throughout the land
A sob registered beneath the music, and Kurt just nestled closer. It was an almost torturous descent, but
Lance finally let go: not of his
passion or his fury, but of his pain and his loneliness and his fear. In Kurt’s warm and comforting embrace,
Lance wept as he had not in years.
Kurt cradled him through the storm, keeping Lance nestled and warm even
as the storm shook the bed with more force than his passion, understanding
better than anyone else Lance’s need for love and affection. When his tears finally quieted, Lance
lay in Kurt’s arms, soaking up the feeling of acceptance and affection. Kurt was so certain that Lance had
actually fallen asleep that it startled him to hear that low, sexy voice rumble
in his ear. “I love
you.”
Kurt lifted his gaze slowly to meet Lance’s. The rock-tumbler wasn’t asleep, wasn’t
dreaming of Pietro. He was gazing
back down into those pale eyes with more sincerity than Kurt had ever seen. Touched to the quick, Kurt couldn’t
bring himself to entertain the thousand objections that his rational mind was
screaming at him. Instead, he
simply lifted his mouth to Lance’s for a sweet, lingering kiss. “I love you.”
“I just can’t believe she did that!” Scott paced furiously, completely
oblivious to his lack of clothing.
“She practically took his side!”
“Scott, please.” Jean sat
up, tucking the sheet around her chest.
“It’s over; you can’t change what’s happened.”
“Jean, it’s not right. Storm
all but gave Alvers the go-ahead to use Kurt while he’s pissed at
Quicksilver. Doesn’t she realize
what it’s going to do to Kurt when Alvers finally gets over his little snit and
they make up? Kurt’s gonna be in so
many pieces, he’ll be a furry blue jigsaw puzzle.”
“But isn’t that Kurt’s decision?”
One eyebrow quirked over his shades. “Do you honestly think that Kurt is in
any place emotionally to make a decision like that? The only reason he even went to bed with
Alvers is because Alvers could make an ugly stick feel sexy if it suited
him. He did it to Tabitha, he was
doing it to Kitty, and now he’s doing it to Kurt. I’d be surprised if he’s even really
serious about Maximoff, except that little fruit’s more manipulative than anyone
I’ve ever met.”
“But what good does it do to curse about it now? We need them, Scott, and it would kill
Kurt to have to decide between Lance and you. You’ve been like an older brother to
him-”
“All the more reason for me to try and protect him from that
philandering, amoral bastard!”
Sighing softly, Jean let the sheet drop and rose from the bed. Scott’s reaction to her naked body was
instantaneous; in a heartbeat his umbrage melted and his erection
stiffened. Stepping into his arms,
Jean slid her hips provocatively against his. “Lance isn’t the only one around here
with a shady past, Scott. You
weren’t exactly an angel in those orphanages, you know.”
“But I got past it. I know
now that just because my life wasn’t a Norman Rockwell painting, it wasn’t an
excuse to turn my back on everything that’s right, on all the good things in
this world. I see Alvers and I
can’t help wanting to smack some sense into him.”
“Scott, you don’t know what his life has been. You’ve got your brother, and your
parents loved you and Alex, and when the Professor brought you here, you found a
home like the one you’d lost. I
don’t know what Lance has been through, but I can’t believe he’s not struggling
towards the kind of home that you had as a child. I don’t think he’s ever had that… and
he’s been on his own all his life.”
Shoving away from her, Scott snarled in rage. “Great. Now you’re taking his side! Why don’t we just give him the keys to
the X-jet! Or better still, to the
dorm of anybody whose ass happens to catch his eye! After all, he’s definitely gonna figure
out the right way to live your life by romping through every bedroom in the
Institute!”
“Stop it, Scott!” Jean
reached out with her mind, flinging him back onto the bed. Propelling herself over as he landed,
Jean hovered over him for a moment before sinking down to lie between his
legs. Her tongue slowly traveled
the length of his erection and Scott groaned aloud. You
and Lance have a lot in common, which is why I think you hate him so much. You feel threatened by him, by how
easily he seems to deal with everything that’s wrong with his life. You feel so guilty about your parents,
your brother, everything you had to do in that orphanage to survive… you hate
Lance because he doesn’t seem to feel any guilt over what he’s done or what he
does… he doesn’t let it rule him…
“I… don’t let it… oh God, Jean… it doesn’t rule me…” Scott’s hands laced into her long hair
as she suckled on the head of his erection, her long, manicured fingers teasing
at his pouch. “It keeps me on the
right track…”
Maybe Lance doesn’t want to live his
life ashamed of things that he’s done because he can admit, unlike you, that the
life he’s lived really wasn’t his fault.
He’s angry, and he has a right to that anger, Scott… and Kurt has the
right to feel like someone wants him despite what he really looks like. He’s not stupid; Kurt probably knows
that this will only last as long as Lance is angry with Pietro. Maybe Kurt just wants to enjoy it while
he can, because he doesn’t know when he’ll have this again.
“I guess… you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Scott managed; it wasn’t easy. Jean’s tongue was tracing the ridge of
his erection while she suckled, making Scott’s entire body feel like a coiled
spring. “You’ve been… hearing
things from them, haven’t you?”
I think hearing Wanda’s call for help
turned something on… I just catch glimpses, but those glimpses are more than
enough… it’s all right, Scott… you don’t have to protect them… you don’t have to
make sure they’re on the straight and narrow… they’ll find their own path. It’s time you concentrated on your own…
on ours…
Scott couldn’t take anymore.
Grabbing Jean’s arms, he pulled her away from his erection and rolled
with her. They spilled onto the
floor in a tangle of limbs and sheets; Jean’s legs parted easily as Scott drove
hard into her, accepting his passion and his emotional turmoil with equal
grace. As tender as Scott had been
over the past few days, he turned almost vicious now, pounding into her body as
fast and as hard as he could. He
couldn’t stand that Duncan had gotten here first, but he was suddenly determined
to stake his claim on her, to make her his forever, to brand his touch into her
flesh and burn away any memory of her football-playing
paramour.
Jean arched into his possession eagerly, reveling in how different he was
from Duncan. Duncan groped; Scott
played. Duncan took; Scott
exchanged. Duncan had been
tolerably hung; Scott felt perfect inside her. She could kill Scott for not saying
anything about his feelings sooner, but Jean was determined to put the past, and
Duncan, behind her. Scott was
everything she could ever want, and she wasn’t going to give him up
now.
Almost in a fury, Scott drove her to orgasm just as he reached his
own. Tightening her grip on him,
Jean absorbed the feeling of his life spilling inside her, comforted by it at
the same time she was glad that she’d been on birth control ever since she
started dating Duncan. Vaguely, she
wondered what kind of powers a child of theirs might have, but there was too
much uncertainty surrounding their lives now for a pregnancy to be at all
advisable… and there wouldn’t be any way to know at this point if the child was
Duncan’s or Scott’s… Yeah, that’d be a good way to start a
relationship. Snuggling close, Jean brushed at the
tears that leaked from beneath Scott’s glasses. “It’s all right, Scott. We’ll get everyone back, and
everything’s going to be fine.
You’ll see.”
Desperate to control the emotions
that he’d held in check for most of his life, Scott cradled Jean even closer,
blotting out reality with the scent of her hair.
A/N: I never said this was gonna be a
slash-only fic! :-P I hope you’re reading this, single
espresso! ‘Cause I wrote it just
for you! Stay tuned, gang… because
things will only get weirder from here!!!
And don’t forget to review!!!!!