I better get started on those Zatara Diaries am I right
Title: Taking Care of Business (Sorry, sorry, I know, there was just nothing else I could call it)
Fandom: X-Men (X-Factor)
Characters, pairings: Rictor/Shatterstar, Emma Frost, Cyclops (Scott Summers), Guido Carosella (Strong Guy)
Rating: R for language, maybe? Hard PG-13 at least.
Summary: Shatterstar refuses to have sex until he's absolutely positively certain that, in doing so, he won't kill Rictor.
Author's Note: I love Emma Frost, let me just say. I love what a magnificent bitch she is. How Rictor feels about her as a person in no way reflects how I feel about her as a character.
Shatterstar had only been back for a couple of minutes, so logically Rictor wanted to go find some place nice and discreet, but of course Star had gotten nervous and paranoid and had decided that they absolutely had to go see, of all people, Emma Frost because otherwise Cortex would make him kill them all at a really inconvenient time, like in the middle of the sex they could be having if someone wasn’t so goddamn stubborn.
“Star.”
Nothing. No answer. He tried again.
“Star, this is pointless.”
This earned him a fierce glare.
“You would not think so if I were attacking you while we were in bed together.”
Which was, yeah, he had a point, but.
“Cortex wants me to let down my guard,” Star continued, ignoring Guido’s barely-muffled groans of discomfort. “He wants you to let down your guard. He will attack when we are most vulnerable. It is the sensible thing for him to do.”
“Yeah, man, I get that,” said Rictor. “But, I mean, come on…”
“Julio, you are whining,” Star said firmly, and that was that
“Oh, come on, is no one gonna help me look for Madrox?” asked Guido.
“Try those other guys,” said Rictor in his very best dude-you-are-not-going-to-do-this-right-now voice. “I don’t think they’re doing anything.
And with that (and with Star’s hot hand on the small of his back) they set out for San Francisco, and Goddamn it Rictor would walk if he had to.
He didn’t have to, since the X-Men sent out their private jet (apparently they missed Shatterstar almost as much as he had) and, following one extremely uncomfortable plane ride with Cyclops and more sexual tension than two people should ever have to endure, they were now squirming in front of Emma’s desk, trying to pretend like she didn’t know exactly why they were here.
“So you are worried this, er-” she paused, drumming her perfectly manicured (white nail polish? Classy) fingers on the desk in front of her.
“Cortex,” he ground out-like she didn’t know exactly who he meant.
“This Cortex person will, ah, strike again, and you want me to make sure he won’t.” she said wryly, fussing with an expensive-looking silver pen.
“Yes,” said Rictor, fists clenched. He had a sneaking suspicion she was toying with them, and his patience was wearing thin.
“Please,” added Star.
“Very well. Try to relax,” she turned to Rictor. “I will construct a basic shielding, protecting his mind from any telepathic interference. It will be…awkward, but not unduly unpleasant. Am I right, Shatterstar?”
He nodded. Rictor took hold of his hand and squeezed. Not like he had anything to hide anymore, not from fuckin’ Emma Frost who probably just found herself a play-by-play.
“I am fine, Rictor, truly,” he said, but returned the squeeze.
“All right. Deep breaths. And-there!” she flashed a brief, white lipsticked (Jesus fuck was she the leader of the X-Men or some kinda high-class stripper, who the fuck wears white lipstick outside of a Halloween costume?) smile. “Done.”
“Thank you,” Star stood up to shake her hand. Ric tapped his foot impatiently.
“You’re very welcome. Now, would you boys like to be dropped off at the X-Factor building in Detroit? I’m sure Cyclops would be happy to take you.”
“We would like that very much,” said Shatterstar.
Rictor was already out the door.
“You were not very polite,” said Star once he caught up with him.
“Don’t tell me you liked her,” Ric mumbled. “Coulda sworn she was reading our minds the whole time we were in there.”
“It is possible,” Star frowned. “She was entirely too smug for a person wearing a corset.”
“I feel that,” said Cyclops grimly, falling into step behind them.
Fandom: X-Men (X-Factor)
Characters, pairings: Rictor/Shatterstar, Emma Frost, Cyclops (Scott Summers), Guido Carosella (Strong Guy)
Rating: R for language, maybe? Hard PG-13 at least.
Summary: Shatterstar refuses to have sex until he's absolutely positively certain that, in doing so, he won't kill Rictor.
Author's Note: I love Emma Frost, let me just say. I love what a magnificent bitch she is. How Rictor feels about her as a person in no way reflects how I feel about her as a character.
Shatterstar had only been back for a couple of minutes, so logically Rictor wanted to go find some place nice and discreet, but of course Star had gotten nervous and paranoid and had decided that they absolutely had to go see, of all people, Emma Frost because otherwise Cortex would make him kill them all at a really inconvenient time, like in the middle of the sex they could be having if someone wasn’t so goddamn stubborn.
“Star.”
Nothing. No answer. He tried again.
“Star, this is pointless.”
This earned him a fierce glare.
“You would not think so if I were attacking you while we were in bed together.”
Which was, yeah, he had a point, but.
“Cortex wants me to let down my guard,” Star continued, ignoring Guido’s barely-muffled groans of discomfort. “He wants you to let down your guard. He will attack when we are most vulnerable. It is the sensible thing for him to do.”
“Yeah, man, I get that,” said Rictor. “But, I mean, come on…”
“Julio, you are whining,” Star said firmly, and that was that
“Oh, come on, is no one gonna help me look for Madrox?” asked Guido.
“Try those other guys,” said Rictor in his very best dude-you-are-not-going-to-do-this-right-now voice. “I don’t think they’re doing anything.
And with that (and with Star’s hot hand on the small of his back) they set out for San Francisco, and Goddamn it Rictor would walk if he had to.
He didn’t have to, since the X-Men sent out their private jet (apparently they missed Shatterstar almost as much as he had) and, following one extremely uncomfortable plane ride with Cyclops and more sexual tension than two people should ever have to endure, they were now squirming in front of Emma’s desk, trying to pretend like she didn’t know exactly why they were here.
“So you are worried this, er-” she paused, drumming her perfectly manicured (white nail polish? Classy) fingers on the desk in front of her.
“Cortex,” he ground out-like she didn’t know exactly who he meant.
“This Cortex person will, ah, strike again, and you want me to make sure he won’t.” she said wryly, fussing with an expensive-looking silver pen.
“Yes,” said Rictor, fists clenched. He had a sneaking suspicion she was toying with them, and his patience was wearing thin.
“Please,” added Star.
“Very well. Try to relax,” she turned to Rictor. “I will construct a basic shielding, protecting his mind from any telepathic interference. It will be…awkward, but not unduly unpleasant. Am I right, Shatterstar?”
He nodded. Rictor took hold of his hand and squeezed. Not like he had anything to hide anymore, not from fuckin’ Emma Frost who probably just found herself a play-by-play.
“I am fine, Rictor, truly,” he said, but returned the squeeze.
“All right. Deep breaths. And-there!” she flashed a brief, white lipsticked (Jesus fuck was she the leader of the X-Men or some kinda high-class stripper, who the fuck wears white lipstick outside of a Halloween costume?) smile. “Done.”
“Thank you,” Star stood up to shake her hand. Ric tapped his foot impatiently.
“You’re very welcome. Now, would you boys like to be dropped off at the X-Factor building in Detroit? I’m sure Cyclops would be happy to take you.”
“We would like that very much,” said Shatterstar.
Rictor was already out the door.
“You were not very polite,” said Star once he caught up with him.
“Don’t tell me you liked her,” Ric mumbled. “Coulda sworn she was reading our minds the whole time we were in there.”
“It is possible,” Star frowned. “She was entirely too smug for a person wearing a corset.”
“I feel that,” said Cyclops grimly, falling into step behind them.