Fic: Out of the Rain
Title: Out of the Rain
Author: windfallswest
Fandom: X-Men: Evolution (I am totally corrupting my childhood)
Pairing: Kurt Wagner/Scott Summers
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: <----
Word Count: 2.6k
Notes: Also at AO3, x_slash, and xfiction. Both characters are underage here, if that sort of thing bothers you. Follows Chance of Showers.
Summary: It was bound to happen eventually with a house full of teenagers.
"So?" Jean asked, leaning in close to Scott at dinner. "How did it go?"
Scott couldn't help flicking a glance towards Kurt, who'd taken the only other open seat, all the way at the other end of the table. He felt his face colour.
"Scott?"
"Uh, fine," Scott mumbled around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
"Well, what did he say? Did you guys work things out?"
Scott concentrated on scooping up exactly the right proportion of gravy. "We're-yeah, I mean, we're, we... We talked." Scott stuffed his loaded spoon into his mouth to stop the idiot stammering.
Oh my god, Scott! I said talk to him, not do him up against the lockers, Jean's voice sounded in his mind.
Choking, Scott almost inhaled his potatoes. Evan, who was on his other side, pounded him helpfully on the back.
"Dude, you okay?"
Currently, Scott was hacking up a lungful of potatoes and gravy into his napkin, or maybe just his lungs. Jean snagged the water from someone's hands halfway down the table and poured him a glass.
"Hey, you could have just asked!" Jamie complained.
"Is he okay?"
It was Rogue asking. Kurt was sitting next to her, and he looked up, worry wrinkling his currently blue face. He bamfed out of his seat and reappeared dangling from the chandelier directly in front of Scott.
"Scott! Are you all right?"
"Get down from there, flea-brain!" barked Logan. "You want him to swallow his tongue next?"
Scott fended off Evan's over-enthusiastic ministrations and managed a smile for Kurt, even if it was a weak one. "I'm fine."
"Kurt!" Storm barked.
"Sorry!" Kurt 'ported back to his seat with one last concerned glance at Scott.
"Sorry," Jean echoed after everyone's attention had moved on.
"Um, can we just...talk about it later?"
Jean rolled her eyes. "You boys and your problems."
A conversation with Jean was not long to be put off, though. Scott met Kurt's look of concern with one of distress as he was dragged off after dinner.
"You two didn't really, y'know, up against the lockers, did you?" Jean half-whispered even though there was no on else around, somehow sounding both delighted and scandalised.
They were in one of the smaller ground floor sitting rooms. Jean had put some kind of telepathic warn-off on the door to keep them from being interrupted.
"You know, you're the only one who ever gets any privacy in this place," Scott half-complained.
"Scott," Jean said. It was all she had to say. You didn't need to be a telepath or anything.
"I am not sharing details," Scott said firmly. He felt heat prickling up the back of his neck as he remembered how it had felt to touch himself, knowing Kurt was watching.
"That blush tells me everything I need to know."
Jean was just mean sometimes.
"Oh my god." Scott buried his face in his hands.
She continued heartlessly. "And if you want privacy, you might consider exercising a bit of discretion. At this rate, you two will have a mutant sex-tape up on the internet by next week."
"Jean!" Scott tried for outrage, but the twinkle in her eyes set him off. "Oh my god, there is something wrong with you," he managed through a fit of snickers.
"C'mon, tell me you guys at least talked some. What are you going to tell everyone? Or are you just going to wait for them to walk in on you?"
Scott groaned. "I don't even know."
"Didn't get that far, huh?" Jean smirked, unaffected by his scowl. "You are so far gone, it's hilarious."
"Is there a purpose to this conversation?"
"This is girl-talk!" Jean sounded dreadfully cheerful. "You are the best gossip at the Institute right now, and I can't share it with anybody until you two come out. And who do you want everyone clamouring to for all the juicy details, me or you?"
Scott hadn't even considered that. The thought of massed interrogation made him more than a little sick, even more than the prospect of what Jean, Kitty, Rogue, and Jubes were going to be saying out of his earshot. "How did I never know you were evil?"
"The world is a hard place, Mister Summers." She didn't look very concerned by the prospect. "So come on, dish!"
When Kurt 'ported into his room later that night, he found Scott sitting and staring kind of blankly out the window. Scott saw his posture go uncertain in the reflexion, and he looked up to catch his eye. Even harder to do through the visor than shades, but Kurt made him feel like he was actually making eye-contact.
"...Hey."
"Hey, Kurt."
Kurt took a few steps closer. "You okay, mein freund?"
"Jean decided it was time for some girl talk. I think I was almost Scared Straight."
"Not entirely up on American culture, but I don't think that's what that's referring to." Kurt snickered.
"Just wait until Kitty catches up with you. Hey, there," he greeted as Kurt dropped into the armchair with him.
"Urk."
Their faces were very close. They were touching kind of a lot; Kurt was basically sitting on Scott's lap. In fact, Scott was securing him there with a hand on his thigh. His thumb rubbed up and down almost idly. Kurt leaned in.
It was a sweet kiss. Scott sighed a little and gave himself over to it. It felt so good, being with Kurt like this. He'd spent so much of the day worried and tense, and now he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in this moment. But there was that little voice in the back of his head that wouldn't shut up, asking what was next, how this was going to go.
Kurt pulled back. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Scott brushed his knuckles over Kurt's cheek; his fur was so soft. "This is a huge thing."
"Yes," said Kurt, unusually serious.
"We're going to have to tell everyone."
"Yes."
"I want to tell everyone-" the expression on Kurt's face made Scott hug him tighter, "-it's just-"
"Kind of terrifying. No kidding." He hugged Scott back.
"But we'll do it together."
Kurt snickered. "I think I like that plan."
"Not exactly what I meant," Scott said, trying not to laugh and mostly failing.
"What? We were planning on doing it, right?" Kurt grinned and braced his elbows against the upholstery on either side of Scott's head, boxing him in.
The next kiss wasn't quite as innocent. When they broke, Kurt was cupping his face tenderly in one hand, and Scott's was tangled in his hair.
"But seriously, it's the professor and everyone. You're not really worried, are you? Just about being teased mercilessly for the rest of our lives."
Scott leaned into his touch, finally feeling the worry recede to the point where he could let it go, for now, swallowed up in the warmth growing in his chest. "Well, gee, when you put it like that..."
He felt Kurt's smile against his lips as he slid his hands up under Kurt's shirt, appreciating the sleek fur and pliant sway of his back. Kurt's hair fell around them, blocking out the light; and Scott gave in and closed his eyes.
These eyes of his weren't to be trusted, but this touch was safe. The warm wetness of Kurt's mouth, a hand that couldn't be anyone else's. Scent, rich and riveting. Little sounds that had driven him past reason filtering through the hard hiss of spitting water. Poured directly into his mouth, they drew a needy moan that he couldn't stop, up from basically his toes. His heart was pounding.
Embarrassing, but it all felt too good to stop. Very little seemed worth caring about except for Kurt's mouth on his; and from the way Kurt was pinning him, he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon. Good. Just this much practice and they were already improving; they hardly knocked their noses or teeth together at all tonight. Practice; lots of practice, yes.
Scott completely lost track of his train of thought, such as it was, when Kurt started wriggling around in his lap. A sound strangled in his throat, and he hung on for dear life. They were both obviously, painfully hard by the time Kurt settled astride him.
It felt wonderful; it felt unbearable. Deep kisses rocked them together in torturously slow waves. Kurt pulled back gasping, Scott swore, a second and a half before he came in his pants.
"I want to touch you," Kurt said, his hands rumpling Scott's sweater.
"That would be really, really nice," Scott said into his neck. "Bed?" he suggested hopefully, a flush creeping up the back of his neck at the presumption.
"Yeah, but just-nnh-nur pause einen Moment, bitte, sonst the chair might come with us."
Scott huffed a laugh and let himself fall back against the upholstery. Kurt was backlit by the window, but his eyes seemed to glow with their own light as he stared directly into Scott's burning eyes.
Kurt tensed, and then faster than he could blink they were falling. Scott yelped and clutched at him, but they hit the mattress almost immediately. Smooth, Summers.
Yeah, that was a smirk. Scott grabbed him by the lapels and pushed him over backwards. Better.
He hadn't really noticed what Kurt was wearing before. Now, Scott's finger's paused at the top of a line of little buttons marching up a shirt whose apparent shade of pink meant it was probably white. Kurt had dressed up for this. But then, so had he. The purple sweater always made Scott feel stupid, but Jean swore up and down it was a good colour on him. Not that Jean was entirely to be trusted; he kind of didn't have a choice except to take her word for it, though.
Kurt wasn't laughing; or at least, Kurt wasn't laughing at him. He was laughing in pure delight, because he was enjoying himself. Because being with Scott made him happy.
Scott had to stop unbuttoning and kiss him. And kiss him. And kiss him. He tasted-well, mostly like toothpaste; but there was an underlying flavour, or maybe it was the scent of him. Scott buried his nose in Kurt's hair and inhaled.
Kurt made an incredible sound, hands fisting in Scott's shirt where they'd burrowed up under the sweater. His tail curled and uncurled around Scott's leg. Oh.
Encouraged, he nosed in deeper and shifted around until he had a hand free to rub Kurt's neck. Up and down, along the muscular cords, riffling circles through his fur, scratching with nails trimmed short.
With quick, almost spasmodic movements, Kurt yanked his shirt tails out of his pants and the stupid sweater over his head, pausing in the middle to slide his hands over Scott's back and grind their hips together. Seizing the moment while Scott was off-balance, he tipped him over onto his back. Warm hands splayed over his stomach, rucking up his shirt. Scott wished he'd just take it off and then he could have those hands absolutely everywhere.
"-please," he was talking out loud now, okay. "Kurt. Kurt-"
"The way you say my name, liebchen," Kurt returned heatedly, then kissed him before he had a chance to say it again.
Scott made an effort to undo the rest of Kurt's buttons, but he was willing to blame the angle for the fact Kurt got done first. And then Kurt was, he was touching him.
Fighting past the last few buttons, Scott's hands dove inside the white shirt. Kurt pressed into his greedy caresses.
His tail was creeping around Scott's ankle; he pulled off one of Scott's shoes with it. Scott laughed ticklishly, wiggling his foot. Playfully, Kurt tugged again before going after the other one. He fell to his elbows on top of Scott, wriggling. Scott clutched at his open shirt and gasped into his mouth, paying no attention to the thumps that followed.
Kurt still had the presence of mind to try and undo their belts, but his hands rubbing their trapped cocks soon left both of them wildly distracted. Scott was bucking up into the backs of his knuckles, grinding his palm against his own erection.
Kurt made sounds around his mouth. The warm softness of his fur as he covered Scott raised goosebumps on his bare skin and a tingling in his nerves that stole away any breath he'd had left.
Finally, Kurt succeeded in yanking their flies open. He shoved aside his own slacks immediately but in pulling off Scott's, he found himself straddling his leg, eye to eye as it were with Scott's cock, twitching and wet at the head.
Kurt reached out, then hesitated. You couldn't really meet Scott's eyes, but by this point, Kurt could tell when Scott was looking at him. Scott's hips thrust into empty air in anticipation of his aborted gesture, his thigh making shocking contact with Kurt's aching dick.
Daring, Kurt closed his hand around him for the first time. Scott didn't shrink from his touch; he panted raggedly, reaching down to brush fumbling fingers through Kurt's hair. Cupping his hand around the back of Kurt's neck, he urged him upwards; but a wild impulse seized Kurt and he leaned down instead and kissed Scott's cock with parted lips.
Scott jolted like he'd been struck and came, biting his wrist to muffle his shouts. Kurt found himself with a mouthful of spunk and more landing on his face and neck when he flinched away in startlement.
"Kurt, oh my god, Kurt," Scott panted into the back of his hand, shocked and flushed.
Kurt pressed his face to Scott's chest, grinding helplessly against his thigh, back bowed. He could feel Scott's hands worming under the open collar of the shirt he'd never managed to get all the way off, sneaking down his neck towards his back. He was gasping words Kurt couldn't focus enough to translate. They buzzed under his ear like a hive of stuttering bees.
Kurt whimpered and came hard. He let go of Scott's hips when he realised how tightly he'd been gripping them; three-fingered hand-prints would be pretty difficult to explain.
Scott's stubbornness finally prevailed, as usual, and he succeeded in pulling Kurt up, wrapping him tightly in his arms. Their breath was still coming fast. Kurt found his body somewhere on the border between boneless and shaking. He let the warm solidity of Scott's body anchor him.
________________
Hank McCoy flopped into a chair in the Professor's study and sighed. "It was bound to happen eventually with a house full of teenagers."
Charles raised an eyebrow.
Ororo looked back and forth between them. "What do you mean, Henry?"
"You mean you don't know what's going on with Scott and the fuzzball?" Logan asked slyly around the butt of an unlit cigar.
"I know they've been making eyes at each other since last year," she said with aplomb.
"Well, they're making something else now-" Logan began.
Charles interrupted him before he could become crass. "The question is, what do we do about it?"
Hank, who had a certain advantage in experience with high school students, surveyed his fellows with a deeply unsettling gleam of anticipation. "There's really only one thing to do."
Author: windfallswest
Fandom: X-Men: Evolution (I am totally corrupting my childhood)
Pairing: Kurt Wagner/Scott Summers
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: <----
Word Count: 2.6k
Notes: Also at AO3, x_slash, and xfiction. Both characters are underage here, if that sort of thing bothers you. Follows Chance of Showers.
Summary: It was bound to happen eventually with a house full of teenagers.
"So?" Jean asked, leaning in close to Scott at dinner. "How did it go?"
Scott couldn't help flicking a glance towards Kurt, who'd taken the only other open seat, all the way at the other end of the table. He felt his face colour.
"Scott?"
"Uh, fine," Scott mumbled around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
"Well, what did he say? Did you guys work things out?"
Scott concentrated on scooping up exactly the right proportion of gravy. "We're-yeah, I mean, we're, we... We talked." Scott stuffed his loaded spoon into his mouth to stop the idiot stammering.
Oh my god, Scott! I said talk to him, not do him up against the lockers, Jean's voice sounded in his mind.
Choking, Scott almost inhaled his potatoes. Evan, who was on his other side, pounded him helpfully on the back.
"Dude, you okay?"
Currently, Scott was hacking up a lungful of potatoes and gravy into his napkin, or maybe just his lungs. Jean snagged the water from someone's hands halfway down the table and poured him a glass.
"Hey, you could have just asked!" Jamie complained.
"Is he okay?"
It was Rogue asking. Kurt was sitting next to her, and he looked up, worry wrinkling his currently blue face. He bamfed out of his seat and reappeared dangling from the chandelier directly in front of Scott.
"Scott! Are you all right?"
"Get down from there, flea-brain!" barked Logan. "You want him to swallow his tongue next?"
Scott fended off Evan's over-enthusiastic ministrations and managed a smile for Kurt, even if it was a weak one. "I'm fine."
"Kurt!" Storm barked.
"Sorry!" Kurt 'ported back to his seat with one last concerned glance at Scott.
"Sorry," Jean echoed after everyone's attention had moved on.
"Um, can we just...talk about it later?"
Jean rolled her eyes. "You boys and your problems."
A conversation with Jean was not long to be put off, though. Scott met Kurt's look of concern with one of distress as he was dragged off after dinner.
"You two didn't really, y'know, up against the lockers, did you?" Jean half-whispered even though there was no on else around, somehow sounding both delighted and scandalised.
They were in one of the smaller ground floor sitting rooms. Jean had put some kind of telepathic warn-off on the door to keep them from being interrupted.
"You know, you're the only one who ever gets any privacy in this place," Scott half-complained.
"Scott," Jean said. It was all she had to say. You didn't need to be a telepath or anything.
"I am not sharing details," Scott said firmly. He felt heat prickling up the back of his neck as he remembered how it had felt to touch himself, knowing Kurt was watching.
"That blush tells me everything I need to know."
Jean was just mean sometimes.
"Oh my god." Scott buried his face in his hands.
She continued heartlessly. "And if you want privacy, you might consider exercising a bit of discretion. At this rate, you two will have a mutant sex-tape up on the internet by next week."
"Jean!" Scott tried for outrage, but the twinkle in her eyes set him off. "Oh my god, there is something wrong with you," he managed through a fit of snickers.
"C'mon, tell me you guys at least talked some. What are you going to tell everyone? Or are you just going to wait for them to walk in on you?"
Scott groaned. "I don't even know."
"Didn't get that far, huh?" Jean smirked, unaffected by his scowl. "You are so far gone, it's hilarious."
"Is there a purpose to this conversation?"
"This is girl-talk!" Jean sounded dreadfully cheerful. "You are the best gossip at the Institute right now, and I can't share it with anybody until you two come out. And who do you want everyone clamouring to for all the juicy details, me or you?"
Scott hadn't even considered that. The thought of massed interrogation made him more than a little sick, even more than the prospect of what Jean, Kitty, Rogue, and Jubes were going to be saying out of his earshot. "How did I never know you were evil?"
"The world is a hard place, Mister Summers." She didn't look very concerned by the prospect. "So come on, dish!"
When Kurt 'ported into his room later that night, he found Scott sitting and staring kind of blankly out the window. Scott saw his posture go uncertain in the reflexion, and he looked up to catch his eye. Even harder to do through the visor than shades, but Kurt made him feel like he was actually making eye-contact.
"...Hey."
"Hey, Kurt."
Kurt took a few steps closer. "You okay, mein freund?"
"Jean decided it was time for some girl talk. I think I was almost Scared Straight."
"Not entirely up on American culture, but I don't think that's what that's referring to." Kurt snickered.
"Just wait until Kitty catches up with you. Hey, there," he greeted as Kurt dropped into the armchair with him.
"Urk."
Their faces were very close. They were touching kind of a lot; Kurt was basically sitting on Scott's lap. In fact, Scott was securing him there with a hand on his thigh. His thumb rubbed up and down almost idly. Kurt leaned in.
It was a sweet kiss. Scott sighed a little and gave himself over to it. It felt so good, being with Kurt like this. He'd spent so much of the day worried and tense, and now he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in this moment. But there was that little voice in the back of his head that wouldn't shut up, asking what was next, how this was going to go.
Kurt pulled back. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Scott brushed his knuckles over Kurt's cheek; his fur was so soft. "This is a huge thing."
"Yes," said Kurt, unusually serious.
"We're going to have to tell everyone."
"Yes."
"I want to tell everyone-" the expression on Kurt's face made Scott hug him tighter, "-it's just-"
"Kind of terrifying. No kidding." He hugged Scott back.
"But we'll do it together."
Kurt snickered. "I think I like that plan."
"Not exactly what I meant," Scott said, trying not to laugh and mostly failing.
"What? We were planning on doing it, right?" Kurt grinned and braced his elbows against the upholstery on either side of Scott's head, boxing him in.
The next kiss wasn't quite as innocent. When they broke, Kurt was cupping his face tenderly in one hand, and Scott's was tangled in his hair.
"But seriously, it's the professor and everyone. You're not really worried, are you? Just about being teased mercilessly for the rest of our lives."
Scott leaned into his touch, finally feeling the worry recede to the point where he could let it go, for now, swallowed up in the warmth growing in his chest. "Well, gee, when you put it like that..."
He felt Kurt's smile against his lips as he slid his hands up under Kurt's shirt, appreciating the sleek fur and pliant sway of his back. Kurt's hair fell around them, blocking out the light; and Scott gave in and closed his eyes.
These eyes of his weren't to be trusted, but this touch was safe. The warm wetness of Kurt's mouth, a hand that couldn't be anyone else's. Scent, rich and riveting. Little sounds that had driven him past reason filtering through the hard hiss of spitting water. Poured directly into his mouth, they drew a needy moan that he couldn't stop, up from basically his toes. His heart was pounding.
Embarrassing, but it all felt too good to stop. Very little seemed worth caring about except for Kurt's mouth on his; and from the way Kurt was pinning him, he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon. Good. Just this much practice and they were already improving; they hardly knocked their noses or teeth together at all tonight. Practice; lots of practice, yes.
Scott completely lost track of his train of thought, such as it was, when Kurt started wriggling around in his lap. A sound strangled in his throat, and he hung on for dear life. They were both obviously, painfully hard by the time Kurt settled astride him.
It felt wonderful; it felt unbearable. Deep kisses rocked them together in torturously slow waves. Kurt pulled back gasping, Scott swore, a second and a half before he came in his pants.
"I want to touch you," Kurt said, his hands rumpling Scott's sweater.
"That would be really, really nice," Scott said into his neck. "Bed?" he suggested hopefully, a flush creeping up the back of his neck at the presumption.
"Yeah, but just-nnh-nur pause einen Moment, bitte, sonst the chair might come with us."
Scott huffed a laugh and let himself fall back against the upholstery. Kurt was backlit by the window, but his eyes seemed to glow with their own light as he stared directly into Scott's burning eyes.
Kurt tensed, and then faster than he could blink they were falling. Scott yelped and clutched at him, but they hit the mattress almost immediately. Smooth, Summers.
Yeah, that was a smirk. Scott grabbed him by the lapels and pushed him over backwards. Better.
He hadn't really noticed what Kurt was wearing before. Now, Scott's finger's paused at the top of a line of little buttons marching up a shirt whose apparent shade of pink meant it was probably white. Kurt had dressed up for this. But then, so had he. The purple sweater always made Scott feel stupid, but Jean swore up and down it was a good colour on him. Not that Jean was entirely to be trusted; he kind of didn't have a choice except to take her word for it, though.
Kurt wasn't laughing; or at least, Kurt wasn't laughing at him. He was laughing in pure delight, because he was enjoying himself. Because being with Scott made him happy.
Scott had to stop unbuttoning and kiss him. And kiss him. And kiss him. He tasted-well, mostly like toothpaste; but there was an underlying flavour, or maybe it was the scent of him. Scott buried his nose in Kurt's hair and inhaled.
Kurt made an incredible sound, hands fisting in Scott's shirt where they'd burrowed up under the sweater. His tail curled and uncurled around Scott's leg. Oh.
Encouraged, he nosed in deeper and shifted around until he had a hand free to rub Kurt's neck. Up and down, along the muscular cords, riffling circles through his fur, scratching with nails trimmed short.
With quick, almost spasmodic movements, Kurt yanked his shirt tails out of his pants and the stupid sweater over his head, pausing in the middle to slide his hands over Scott's back and grind their hips together. Seizing the moment while Scott was off-balance, he tipped him over onto his back. Warm hands splayed over his stomach, rucking up his shirt. Scott wished he'd just take it off and then he could have those hands absolutely everywhere.
"-please," he was talking out loud now, okay. "Kurt. Kurt-"
"The way you say my name, liebchen," Kurt returned heatedly, then kissed him before he had a chance to say it again.
Scott made an effort to undo the rest of Kurt's buttons, but he was willing to blame the angle for the fact Kurt got done first. And then Kurt was, he was touching him.
Fighting past the last few buttons, Scott's hands dove inside the white shirt. Kurt pressed into his greedy caresses.
His tail was creeping around Scott's ankle; he pulled off one of Scott's shoes with it. Scott laughed ticklishly, wiggling his foot. Playfully, Kurt tugged again before going after the other one. He fell to his elbows on top of Scott, wriggling. Scott clutched at his open shirt and gasped into his mouth, paying no attention to the thumps that followed.
Kurt still had the presence of mind to try and undo their belts, but his hands rubbing their trapped cocks soon left both of them wildly distracted. Scott was bucking up into the backs of his knuckles, grinding his palm against his own erection.
Kurt made sounds around his mouth. The warm softness of his fur as he covered Scott raised goosebumps on his bare skin and a tingling in his nerves that stole away any breath he'd had left.
Finally, Kurt succeeded in yanking their flies open. He shoved aside his own slacks immediately but in pulling off Scott's, he found himself straddling his leg, eye to eye as it were with Scott's cock, twitching and wet at the head.
Kurt reached out, then hesitated. You couldn't really meet Scott's eyes, but by this point, Kurt could tell when Scott was looking at him. Scott's hips thrust into empty air in anticipation of his aborted gesture, his thigh making shocking contact with Kurt's aching dick.
Daring, Kurt closed his hand around him for the first time. Scott didn't shrink from his touch; he panted raggedly, reaching down to brush fumbling fingers through Kurt's hair. Cupping his hand around the back of Kurt's neck, he urged him upwards; but a wild impulse seized Kurt and he leaned down instead and kissed Scott's cock with parted lips.
Scott jolted like he'd been struck and came, biting his wrist to muffle his shouts. Kurt found himself with a mouthful of spunk and more landing on his face and neck when he flinched away in startlement.
"Kurt, oh my god, Kurt," Scott panted into the back of his hand, shocked and flushed.
Kurt pressed his face to Scott's chest, grinding helplessly against his thigh, back bowed. He could feel Scott's hands worming under the open collar of the shirt he'd never managed to get all the way off, sneaking down his neck towards his back. He was gasping words Kurt couldn't focus enough to translate. They buzzed under his ear like a hive of stuttering bees.
Kurt whimpered and came hard. He let go of Scott's hips when he realised how tightly he'd been gripping them; three-fingered hand-prints would be pretty difficult to explain.
Scott's stubbornness finally prevailed, as usual, and he succeeded in pulling Kurt up, wrapping him tightly in his arms. Their breath was still coming fast. Kurt found his body somewhere on the border between boneless and shaking. He let the warm solidity of Scott's body anchor him.
________________
Hank McCoy flopped into a chair in the Professor's study and sighed. "It was bound to happen eventually with a house full of teenagers."
Charles raised an eyebrow.
Ororo looked back and forth between them. "What do you mean, Henry?"
"You mean you don't know what's going on with Scott and the fuzzball?" Logan asked slyly around the butt of an unlit cigar.
"I know they've been making eyes at each other since last year," she said with aplomb.
"Well, they're making something else now-" Logan began.
Charles interrupted him before he could become crass. "The question is, what do we do about it?"
Hank, who had a certain advantage in experience with high school students, surveyed his fellows with a deeply unsettling gleam of anticipation. "There's really only one thing to do."