Time
Time
Pairing: Jono/Ange/Paige
Rating: NC-17 Explicit Male/Male Male/Female Male/Male/Female content (God, gay porn is so much easier. T_T
Author: selena2.0@prodigy.net
Authors Notes: This fic is for plainsong_x ; Jori, and Kokochan. They are paying me for this travesty, imagine that! The X-men are copyright Marvel Comics, not me, and Generation X is owned by whatever mad gods control that little world. This little world however, is mine, though the caracters are not. Don't sue me.
He was fucking her. He was fucking him. Technically, he was fucking both of them over. Fucking over their future, their possibilities; their fragile semblance of normalcy. They dated each other. Paige was supposed to hate him. Angelo was supposed to be his best friend. He was supposed to be sexless. But yet, here they were, as they were, as it were.
Angelo had a very serious bottom complex. He kept it well hidden, behind girlfriends and big jeans and Catholicism and three kinds of attitude. When Angelo had asked if he could date Paige, Jono’d almost killed him on the spot, before realizing the absurdity of the question when combined with the request in his eyes, in his mind; right up front, where he KNEW Jono would see it. His lips didn’t move as he thought, ‘You’d still fuck me, right?’
Paige had never stopped loving him in the first place. When she said ‘she was sorry’ it was uncomfortable for him; but Angelo had asked her out, he knew his friend had only had wanted to take her to dinner; wanted to kiss her, like Jono had always wanted to kiss her.
Her eyes were bright. Her eyes held the past while her mouth spoke of the future, of dates that had been planned and dresses she would wear and houses with white picket fences. Later that day, when he came to her room, looking to get back the extra clothes he kept there, she’d jumped him while his back was turned and been astride him before he had a chance to realize her little talk had not ever said anything about terminating their sexual rendezvous. Well. Good Goddamn.
Angelo was a greedy bastard. He’d come back from the gym and want fucking. Get out of the shower and want it again. Call Jono when he was out at a bar (on the rare occasion of going alone,) just so he could get a sober ride home then get fucked while still inebriated. Jono was amazed he ever had time to eat a meal, much less date a girl. They were best friends, and always would be. They’d die for each other.
Paige just loved him. She’d never stopped. Though she definitely still hated his (no pun intended) guts. With a passion. She wanted no ties to him; no strings, no future, no past. But at the same time, she wanted no anger, no childish grudge, and no female bitterness. Jono didn’t like reading Paige’s thoughts. They got too complex for him. He decided to leave it at Love. Paige loved him. A friend, with benefits.
But now, things were changing. He could feel it. He could hear it. They walked the halls together. They did their work together. They trained together. They went for coffee. Ugh. How quaint. How fine. How peachy fucking keen. It was all well and good to be the walking sex toy, but he was beginning to feel like they were taking him for granted. How come they got their classes and parties and trips to the mall. Wait, he hated classes, parties, and trips to the mall. But still! He couldn’t help… feeling… a bit… used. Under appreciated. He was more than a dick, after all. But he thought long and hard; any other man would kill for this kind of deal, double the pleasure, all of the fun, none of the attachments. But… something wouldn’t stop niggling at the back of his brain. He resolved not to give into it before he even realized what it was.
Pairing: Jono/Ange/Paige
Rating: NC-17 Explicit Male/Male Male/Female Male/Male/Female content (God, gay porn is so much easier. T_T
Author: selena2.0@prodigy.net
Authors Notes: This fic is for plainsong_x ; Jori, and Kokochan. They are paying me for this travesty, imagine that! The X-men are copyright Marvel Comics, not me, and Generation X is owned by whatever mad gods control that little world. This little world however, is mine, though the caracters are not. Don't sue me.
He was fucking her. He was fucking him. Technically, he was fucking both of them over. Fucking over their future, their possibilities; their fragile semblance of normalcy. They dated each other. Paige was supposed to hate him. Angelo was supposed to be his best friend. He was supposed to be sexless. But yet, here they were, as they were, as it were.
Angelo had a very serious bottom complex. He kept it well hidden, behind girlfriends and big jeans and Catholicism and three kinds of attitude. When Angelo had asked if he could date Paige, Jono’d almost killed him on the spot, before realizing the absurdity of the question when combined with the request in his eyes, in his mind; right up front, where he KNEW Jono would see it. His lips didn’t move as he thought, ‘You’d still fuck me, right?’
Paige had never stopped loving him in the first place. When she said ‘she was sorry’ it was uncomfortable for him; but Angelo had asked her out, he knew his friend had only had wanted to take her to dinner; wanted to kiss her, like Jono had always wanted to kiss her.
Her eyes were bright. Her eyes held the past while her mouth spoke of the future, of dates that had been planned and dresses she would wear and houses with white picket fences. Later that day, when he came to her room, looking to get back the extra clothes he kept there, she’d jumped him while his back was turned and been astride him before he had a chance to realize her little talk had not ever said anything about terminating their sexual rendezvous. Well. Good Goddamn.
Angelo was a greedy bastard. He’d come back from the gym and want fucking. Get out of the shower and want it again. Call Jono when he was out at a bar (on the rare occasion of going alone,) just so he could get a sober ride home then get fucked while still inebriated. Jono was amazed he ever had time to eat a meal, much less date a girl. They were best friends, and always would be. They’d die for each other.
Paige just loved him. She’d never stopped. Though she definitely still hated his (no pun intended) guts. With a passion. She wanted no ties to him; no strings, no future, no past. But at the same time, she wanted no anger, no childish grudge, and no female bitterness. Jono didn’t like reading Paige’s thoughts. They got too complex for him. He decided to leave it at Love. Paige loved him. A friend, with benefits.
But now, things were changing. He could feel it. He could hear it. They walked the halls together. They did their work together. They trained together. They went for coffee. Ugh. How quaint. How fine. How peachy fucking keen. It was all well and good to be the walking sex toy, but he was beginning to feel like they were taking him for granted. How come they got their classes and parties and trips to the mall. Wait, he hated classes, parties, and trips to the mall. But still! He couldn’t help… feeling… a bit… used. Under appreciated. He was more than a dick, after all. But he thought long and hard; any other man would kill for this kind of deal, double the pleasure, all of the fun, none of the attachments. But… something wouldn’t stop niggling at the back of his brain. He resolved not to give into it before he even realized what it was.