RP - Toad, Pyro, and Doug
//RP with tm_pyro and morty_toad. Takes place shortly after Pyro's attack on the Friends of Humanity building.//
Warning: contains adult content.
------
"This is a bad idea, mate."
"Shut up, Toad."
"No, seriously. Magneto is going to flip."
"It'll be fine."
"No, Pyro, I'm not doing this…"
"Just fly the damned chopper, Toad," Pyro says with finality in his voice.
In all honesty… Toad isn’t exactly wrong. Meeting up with Doug the very same morning Pyro had blown up a building, killed people, and made international news wasn't exactly the best conceived plan in the world. Something could go wrong. Lots could go wrong.
Plus, Magneto is not going to be pleased by it, either. Pyro knows up front that he is likely to get into some deep shit for this. He had told Toad he'd take the entire blame for it, and would tell Magneto he had threatened his life if he didn't take a pit stop in New York State for a few minutes. Toad had refused, and then Pyro actually had threatened him, so now they were almost there.
He doesn’t know what it is, but he just has to see Doug. He needs to talk to him about… this whole thing. Mostly, he wants to know if his newly confirmed boyfriend is having second thoughts, but it wasn't something they could do over the phone, or online, or whatever. It has to be done face-to-face.
He had called Doug up, and it had been a simple and easy conversation.
"You see the news?"
"Yep."
"Can we meet up? Like, today? In an hour?"
"…. you sure?"
"Yes. At the old barn. Can you make it there?"
"Yeah."
They’re meeting up at an old, abandoned barn in a large field that a lot of the kids from the school used to go to. Sometimes for stupid trips for science class, observing nature or taking soil samples and shit like that. Sometimes for camp-outs. And, sometimes, the older kids would meet up on weekends for a place to hangout or party away from all the adults of the school. The adults knew, they were sure, but they had been given that little bit of freedom, at least.
The field is large enough for the chopper to land, the barn will give Pyro and Doug some privacy, and it’s far enough from any population that they shouldn't be noticed. Hopefully.
A few minutes later, they are flying over the field. Pyro points down to the barn. "There," he says.
"I don't know, man. What if it's a set up? What if the place is swarming with cops?" Toad asks uncertainly.
"Do you see any fucking vehicles?" Pyro asks.
"Yes," Toad says immediately.
"That's Doug's."
"Oh. Still. This could be some sort of-"
"Fucking land, Toad. Now," Pyro commands in irritation. He didn't want to think about all the things Toad was trying to bring up. He can’t - won’t - believe it. Not from Doug.
Toad relents, landing a safe distance from the barn. "I'm giving you ten minutes."
"You'll give me as long as I need." But Pyro knows they can’t stay long.
He jogs away from the chopper and up to the barn door. He stands for a second, stares at the door handle. He sighs deeply, and reaches out to open the door.
He hopes to all fuck Toad was wrong.
------
Doug drives to the barn in the sort of daze that might have caused an accident in the daylight. But these back roads, mostly just connecting farm with farm, are deserted at night, and his headlights seem like a beacon in the darkness. It's been at least a year since he's been out this way, and more since he was out here with the rest of the senior year from the Institute. He had been surprised that they'd even invited him. But, then, they'd invited Drake, and there wasn't anyone more likely to squeal to the teachers than Drake. Later on, he'd discovered that it had been partially his idea. You just never could tell.
There had been beer - some weak sickly stuff that was hardly worth the effort - and a bit of what Jubilee swore was marijuana but smelled suspiciously like oregano. Pyro had stacked haybales as seats, and solemnly dealt a hand of poker to those willing to meet the stakes. It wasn't as if any of them had any money back then, so there had been forfeits for losing rather than rewards for winning. Doug vaguely remembers having had to strip down to his boxers and run blindly round the barn barefoot. Had Pyro suggested he do that? Doug shakes his head, in an attempt to clear it of fog. He can’t recall.
He parks up near the barn, and switches on a flashlight before he kills the engine. No sign of Pyro yet, but then Doug has no idea how he's getting here. There's a lot he doesn't know. His conversation with Pyro by phone had been brief, and he hadn't felt like asking questions. It was too dangerous, anyway, just in case someone was listening in. Still, he had some time to grab a medical kit (just in case), and some food, and stuff them in his backpack before jumping into the Ford and heading out. It was only then that he had the time to think about what he was doing.
Aiding and abetting a terrorist. A guy who's killed people today. Whose picture is all over the news. Who's wanted by every law enforcement organisation on the planet.
Doug gets out of the car, shutting the door with a bang that makes him jump. It's so quiet out here, and so still. The air seems cool in his lungs; seems to calm things down. It allows him to stop thinking about everything else, about international implications and criminal charges. His boyfriend's going to be here in a minute, and he knows what he has to do.
He opens the door to the barn a little way, and steps in, swinging the flashlight beam around. There's nothing in there but some old machinery, and hay. Doug hides behind a stack of the stuff, away from the door, and kills the light. Might as well be careful. It's only when he hears footsteps outside that he wonders if he should have brought a gun.
The door opens, finally, and a shape enters, lit a little from behind - maybe by the lights on the chopper Doug can faintly hear. Something, however, makes him wait until the door closes to switch on the flashlight.
It's Pyro, alone, blinking, and holding up an arm to ward off the light. Doug lowers it a little, and comes out of hiding. "Are you okay?"
-----
A wave of relief washes over Pyro. Good. Just Doug. Which is what he had expected in the first place, but that stupid Toad, trying to plant seeds of doubt in his mind. He should have known better.
"Yeah, man. I'm fine," he answers.
It's not exactly the truth. Part of him is fanfuckingtastic. The rush he got from the attack earlier was still running through him, strumming just below the surface. It had been awesome, what he had done. But the most part of him is just really, really exhausted. That had been a massive display of powers he'd used that morning, much more than he ever had before. It left him drained, but he can already tell that his limits have been pushed back and that next time he won’t feel so weakened.
But another part of him feels... well, not nervous. Anxious, maybe? No, not quite. He isn't here to apologize to Doug, he isn’t. He feels no guilt, no remorse, for what he has done. He knows what he’s done was the right thing. But he gets that not everyone feels the same (even though they should.) Not everyone approves (even though they should.)
And he really doesn’t know what Doug is thinking.
They stand apart a few feet apart, awkward and not approaching each other. Pyro isn’t sure if he should make a move, so he doesn’t. "What about you? How are you with... stuff?"
------
Now that he knows Pyro is okay - removing a shred of fear from his mind - there's something in Doug's mind that wants to lash out and just deck him. A swift punch to the jaw, and Pyro, caught unawares, would be sprawling on the hay-strewn floor. It's what he deserves, isn't it? To have killed people. To have made Doug worry about him. To make Doug a fucking accomplice to murder.
But, then, it had been Doug's choice, too. He had known exactly what Pyro was, and what he was capable of, that time he had gone to talk with him in Providence. The time they had watched movies. The time they had kissed and fucked and fucked again. Just a few hours ago, when they had talked about being boyfriends. Christ, it all seems so trite now. This isn't about Hallmark cards. It's about criminal charges and innocent lives. So why hadn't Doug called the cops the moment Pyro had contacted him? That would have ended everything.
The trouble is, he doesn't want it to end.
Doug takes a step closer, bridging the gap between them, and hauls Pyro up against him as his thumb switches off the flashlight.
------
"So you don't hate me then?" Pyro asks involuntarily, a total slip of the tongue. He doesn't give Doug a chance to answer, just pulls him closer into a crushing kiss.
This definitely isn't the way he had thought this would go. He had expected some yelling, some accusations, maybe even political debate and discussion where he would end up having to defend himself and his actions. This is a much, much better idea.
It's completely dark in the barn, so they're all touch, gripping at each other, hands sliding under shirts and running over bare skin. It’s quiet except for their frantic kissing, though it seems loud enough to fill the entire barn.
Pyro raises a hand to the back of Doug's head, grabbing a handful of hair, and practically has to drag Doug away from him - it’s the only way he knew how to stop them, he certainly doesn’t have the will power to do it himself. "I can't stay long," he says into the black air, hating that he couldn't see Doug's face. He pulls the other boy a bit closer, his stubble rasping against Doug's cheek. "Not safe right now."
------
"No kidding." This time the anger and confusion in Doug does take a physical form, and he shoves Pyro backwards, so he trips over and lands on his back in a pile of hay bales. Ordinarily it might be incredibly exciting to have such physical power - to dominate this man who's just blown up an entire building with his bare hands - but that might have to wait for a less morally complicated morning.
Before Pyro can fight back, or yell something, or even breathe, Doug's on top of him, grabbing at his belt. The darkness is oppressive, but, up this close, he can see Pyro's eyes. "Are you sure?" he says. It's only a whisper, but it might as well be a scream in the silence of the barn. "Are you sure you got the right people?"
------
And there it is. Pyro had figured something would have to set Doug off eventually. Mellow, good-natured Doug. Pyro had known there was more fight in there somewhere.
And goddamn, if he wasn't in so much pain, he'd find it incredibly sexy.
He just lies there for a moment, lets Doug's anger seethe over him, and Pyro soaks it in as if it’s giving him more power, more strength.
"Yes, I'm sure," he replies confidently. "I don't care who is trying to cover up what. It was those fuckers. I heard them myself, heard the things they called us."
He reaches up with his hands to cup Doug's face, but the moment his hands touch, Doug grabs his wrists roughly. It makes Pyro mad but he doesn't try to break away, just grabs them back, pulling them down so they are rested on the hay above Pyro's head. It may seem like Doug was pinning them there, but Pyro's got the upper hand here. "Why?" he bites out harshly. "You have a problem?"
------
There's a moment of tension that seems to last forever, with Doug's hands tight around Pyro's wrists, locked into position, muscles tight and strained, pulling against each other. For that moment, Doug wonders if this is even a fraction of what Pyro feels like, when he has all the power and destructive force in the world. He's burning, and he doesn't like it at all.
Doug looks into Pyro's eyes, seeing - not anger, not hate, just pure confidence and strength. He's come a long way since those unruly days at the school. The stakes here are much higher than a few splinters in bare feet. "No," Doug says, and lets go.
He rolls over onto his back beside Pyro, breathing in for what seems like the first time in months. "How long have you got?"
------
Pyro has a feeling there's a lot more behind that no, but hell, he'll take what he can get for now. It was something... it was a start.
He rolls over onto his side, propping his head up. He just listens to Doug breathe for a minute, and tries to catch his own breath. Hell, that little tussle had been exhilarating. Not that he particularly wanted to be fight with his boyfriend, but still. Exciting.
"Not much. None, if Toad has his way. Luckily, he doesn't." Pyro tries to lean over and leer playfully at Doug, but realizes it’s much too dark for that to have any effect. Instead, he says suggestively, "But I'm sure there's enough time for you to show me just how oral linguistics can be."
------
Doug tries hard not to laugh. He really does. It's just... How the hell did he end up in a barn in the middle of the night listening to an international terrorist make bad double entendres? He doesn't even drink. Much.
Still, laughing feels good, and allows him to forget the serious issues that will confront him yet again when he returns to the mansion. Maybe Mr. Summers will put pressure on him to give up Pyro. Maybe he'll be thrown out. Mind you, since half the school seems to be sleeping with reformed, semi-reformed, or not-really-reformed-at-all supervillains, it probably won't even raise an eyebrow. Magneto's come close to destroying the entire world. The fact that Doug's dating a guy who blew up one freakin' building seems positively restrained in comparison. Mind you, he probably shouldn't tell Pyro that. It'll only give him ideas.
Doug turns to face Pyro, his hand undoing Pyro's belt. "You're sure Toad's not going to walk in on us?" He can't tell if Pyro nods or shrugs or just doesn't give a damn, but he unloops Pyro's belt anyway. "Believe me, Allerdyce. You'll be talking Syriac by the time I've finished with you."
------
"By all means," Pyro replies smugly. He lifts his hip up off the ground, and they work together to pull down his pants and boxers a little. The air is cool against his skin, but he doesn't mind; he's been radiating heat for hours.
He pulls Doug into one deep kiss, then breaks it off. He shifts onto his back, head falling onto the hay.
"Well, then, let's see what you got."
That gets him a deserved tweak of a nipple, but Pyro just chuckles. But his breath catches in anticipation as that hand moves down his body, and Pyro can feel Doug shift lower. Then that hand is around the base of his already half-hard cock and there's a wet tongue licking up it, and Pyro can't hold back the moan.
------
Fuck. Doug always does seem to be rather good at replacing one problem with another. He had half expected that Pyro would be all talk, and would have to make some excuse to haul ass and get out of the country before dawn. He hadn't seriously expected Pyro to want him to suck cock in a barn in the middle of the night. But, then, he obviously hadn't thought too hard about it, either. After all, he is talking about Pyro.
His hand cups Pyro's balls, and he gives Pyro's cock a tentative lick, right up the shaft, feeling veins and pumping blood underneath his tongue. This is officially his first blow job and, well, there can't be all that much to it, can there? Cock. Mouth. Lips. Tongue. A vague hope that Toad might burst in and let Doug hurry back to the mansion to read "The Dummies' Guide To Oral Sex" before their next meeting. He frowns, just as he closes his lips over the tip. That last bit didn't sound right, somehow.
------
There's something wrong. Well, not wrong. There's never anything wrong with a blowjob - unless there’s teeth involved, of course. Which sorta brings Pyro to his next thought, if Doug's tentativeness is of any indication...
This is the first time Doug's given a blow job.
And, for some reason, that turns Pyro on. A lot.
He has to keep in mind to hold back a little, to just not let go. The last thing Doug needs is having a dick shoved right down his throat, which is likely to result in a very unsexy moment. Pyro is going to have to control himself, show a little bit of restraint.
And, for some reason, that too turns Pyro on. A lot.
Apparently, somewhere between becoming an internationally wanted man and meeting up with his boyfriend in an abandoned barn that is only a dozen miles away from the estate of his sworn enemies... he's also become a bit of a pervert.
But, at this rate, Doug isn't going to have to worry about working very hard at all.
"It's okay," he hears himself say out loud. He doesn't know if he meant to. He reaches down, brushes his knuckles against Doug's cheek. "Just watched the teeth and it's all good."
------
It's cool. It is all absolutely cool. He can cope with this, even though being on his knees in a barn in the small hours of the morning was hardly what he had expected. They really have to figure out a more comfortable place to meet next time, he thinks, just as Pyro moans a little and his attention is brought back to the issue at hand.
From a practical standpoint, the whole thing isn't nearly as sexy as it should be. His knees hurt, his neck's stiff, he can't see a thing, and he's probably going to have some terrible allergic reaction to all the hay in a few minutes. On the other hand: holy hell this is amazing. He has Pyro's cock in his mouth - all the way in, now - and it's as if Doug can feel his heart beat, can feel every pulse of blood and life. With every tentative lick and flick of his tongue, every movement of his lips, he can make Pyro breathe a little faster, make him groan with pleasure. And that is worth a few discomforts.
On the other hand... (Or, at least, it would be the other hand if he had another one. Maybe he's back to the first.) His jeans are getting pretty tight and, as he grapples with his fly, he realises the very definite possibility that Pyro is going to come in his mouth. Doug tenses up a little, one hand inside his pants, and hopes he doesn't choke.
------
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
It's the only thing that runs through Pyro's brain and he can't stop it.
His body is shaking and trembling from trying to hold back when all he wants to do it just fuck Doug in the mouth, but he keeps it to smallish jerks of his hips. He doesn't want to push on Doug's head so he doesn't touch him at all, just grasps chunks of hay tightly in his hands at his sides.
But Doug isn't hesitating, just keeps on at it, and oh fuck that's good. That familiar feeling is starting to build up in him, all the blood rushing down to his groin. It hits him full force suddenly, a bit unexpected, and he doesn't know if he can warn Doug in time.
"I... Doug... oh, fuuuuuck." His fists pound into the ground and his back arches up.
------
Doug doesn't know exactly what to expect, but fortunately he also doesn't have to spend too much time worrying about it. All of a sudden, Pyro is coming, and that's better than the alternative, because it means Doug must have been doing something right. Intellect tells him it isn't much to swallow, but intellect isn't a great help when he has another man's cock, hard and seemingly huge, pushing into his mouth.
For a second, he's terrified that he's going to gag, but then it's all right. He calms down and just does it. Swallows it like a pill and concentrates on continuing that rhythmic movement, licking Pyro clean as the other man moans with pleasure and squirms under his touch. Fuck. That's an experience to kill for.
When he finally lets Pyro go, he stays on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand as he pulls on his own erection with some urgency. He's too hard and needy to just let it go, but Pyro won't be sticking around forever.
------
Pyro breathes heavily, trying to catch his breath. His heart is pumping a million beats a minute, and the blood rushing through him makes it sound as if there's an ocean inside his ears. He tries to make himself calm down, to gain enough composure that he can tend to Doug. Reciprocation, he figures, is key in a relationship.
Except that, when he really pays attention, he can hear Doug release soft moans, and recognizes the sound of one whacking off.
Holy. Shit. Doug was jerking himself off. After giving Pyro a blow job.
Today must be fucking Christmas. Seriously.
Pyro scrambles up to his knees, moves towards Doug. "Hey, man, I was going to-"
He's cut off as Doug pulls him into a desperate, sloppy kiss. Pyro can feel Doug's hand bumping into his stomach with each pump of his hand. Pyro is about to reach down and help out when Doug suddenly breaks the kiss and moans, and his entire body starts trembling. Pyro's arms go around Doug's waist, pulling him close and supporting him as he goes tense then shudders when he reaches his release.
Doug sags against him, and Pyro's arms support him from collapsing to the floor. Doug's breath is so warm as he pants against Pyro's neck. They take a moment to catch their breath.
"Dude, this so isn't why I came here," he finally mumbles into Doug's hair. "But now I totally owe you a blowjob."
------
"You owe me more than that," Doug mutters, and reluctantly straightens up, pulling himself back from Pyro's shoulder. He could really do with a rag to clean himself up - actually, he could do with a shower - but hay is the only thing at hand, and it won't help him very much.
He gets to his feet, straightening out his shirt, and zipping up his fly, still a little off balance in the darkness. "You should go," he says, and it's not an order, but it's not too reluctant either. He has a feeling that it will be much, much easier to think about things without Pyro around. "We need to find some way to see each other soon... I mean really see each other." If he's going to be risking life and limb for someone, he might as well actually get to know him.
------
Pyro stands up and straightens himself up, and frowns. There’s something off in Doug’s tone but he doesn’t make an issue out of it. He can’t deny the guy the seriousness or complexity of the situation. Plus, they really don’t have the time right now. The time he did have for talking was re-allotted to getting his dick sucked so…yeah, he’ll have to leave it for now.
“Absolutely,” he replies. “We’ll set it up soon. Real soon.”
He leans over and gives Doug a quick kiss. Doug doesn’t reject it, thank god, but it is a little reserved. Maybe (hopefully) just a strategy to get Pyro the hell out of here, which is actually a really good idea.
“Later,” Pyro says, and leaves the barn.
He jogs back to the helicopter, climbing in and going into the cockpit to sit next to Toad. Toad looks less than impressed.
“That was more than ten minutes.”
“Not much. Besides, you’re still here, aren’t you?”
“Luckily for you, punk,” Toad mutters. Neither of them say anything while Toad focuses on getting them up into the air. Pyro keeps his eyes on the barn until he can’t see it any more.
A few minutes later, Toad says, “So, Magneto is going to flip out over this, you know.”
“So you said earlier.”
“Especially when he finds out that you risked the mission and both of us just so you can get a blowjob.”
Pyro looks over at him in surprise. “What the fuck, man? Where you listening outside the door or something, you perv?”
Toad laughs. “Actually, I had no real idea, but thanks for the confirmation. I had figured it out, though, due to time constraints, the hay in your hair, and the come on your pants.”
Pyro looks down. “Oh, shit,” he mutters. He gets up to go into the back and change into his spare set of clothes. Before he does, though, he turns to Toad. “Um, yeah. Thanks for. Well, you know.”
Toad just grins. “Whatever, man. It’s your funeral.”
Oh, crap. Magneto really is going to flip out.
Warning: contains adult content.
------
"This is a bad idea, mate."
"Shut up, Toad."
"No, seriously. Magneto is going to flip."
"It'll be fine."
"No, Pyro, I'm not doing this…"
"Just fly the damned chopper, Toad," Pyro says with finality in his voice.
In all honesty… Toad isn’t exactly wrong. Meeting up with Doug the very same morning Pyro had blown up a building, killed people, and made international news wasn't exactly the best conceived plan in the world. Something could go wrong. Lots could go wrong.
Plus, Magneto is not going to be pleased by it, either. Pyro knows up front that he is likely to get into some deep shit for this. He had told Toad he'd take the entire blame for it, and would tell Magneto he had threatened his life if he didn't take a pit stop in New York State for a few minutes. Toad had refused, and then Pyro actually had threatened him, so now they were almost there.
He doesn’t know what it is, but he just has to see Doug. He needs to talk to him about… this whole thing. Mostly, he wants to know if his newly confirmed boyfriend is having second thoughts, but it wasn't something they could do over the phone, or online, or whatever. It has to be done face-to-face.
He had called Doug up, and it had been a simple and easy conversation.
"You see the news?"
"Yep."
"Can we meet up? Like, today? In an hour?"
"…. you sure?"
"Yes. At the old barn. Can you make it there?"
"Yeah."
They’re meeting up at an old, abandoned barn in a large field that a lot of the kids from the school used to go to. Sometimes for stupid trips for science class, observing nature or taking soil samples and shit like that. Sometimes for camp-outs. And, sometimes, the older kids would meet up on weekends for a place to hangout or party away from all the adults of the school. The adults knew, they were sure, but they had been given that little bit of freedom, at least.
The field is large enough for the chopper to land, the barn will give Pyro and Doug some privacy, and it’s far enough from any population that they shouldn't be noticed. Hopefully.
A few minutes later, they are flying over the field. Pyro points down to the barn. "There," he says.
"I don't know, man. What if it's a set up? What if the place is swarming with cops?" Toad asks uncertainly.
"Do you see any fucking vehicles?" Pyro asks.
"Yes," Toad says immediately.
"That's Doug's."
"Oh. Still. This could be some sort of-"
"Fucking land, Toad. Now," Pyro commands in irritation. He didn't want to think about all the things Toad was trying to bring up. He can’t - won’t - believe it. Not from Doug.
Toad relents, landing a safe distance from the barn. "I'm giving you ten minutes."
"You'll give me as long as I need." But Pyro knows they can’t stay long.
He jogs away from the chopper and up to the barn door. He stands for a second, stares at the door handle. He sighs deeply, and reaches out to open the door.
He hopes to all fuck Toad was wrong.
------
Doug drives to the barn in the sort of daze that might have caused an accident in the daylight. But these back roads, mostly just connecting farm with farm, are deserted at night, and his headlights seem like a beacon in the darkness. It's been at least a year since he's been out this way, and more since he was out here with the rest of the senior year from the Institute. He had been surprised that they'd even invited him. But, then, they'd invited Drake, and there wasn't anyone more likely to squeal to the teachers than Drake. Later on, he'd discovered that it had been partially his idea. You just never could tell.
There had been beer - some weak sickly stuff that was hardly worth the effort - and a bit of what Jubilee swore was marijuana but smelled suspiciously like oregano. Pyro had stacked haybales as seats, and solemnly dealt a hand of poker to those willing to meet the stakes. It wasn't as if any of them had any money back then, so there had been forfeits for losing rather than rewards for winning. Doug vaguely remembers having had to strip down to his boxers and run blindly round the barn barefoot. Had Pyro suggested he do that? Doug shakes his head, in an attempt to clear it of fog. He can’t recall.
He parks up near the barn, and switches on a flashlight before he kills the engine. No sign of Pyro yet, but then Doug has no idea how he's getting here. There's a lot he doesn't know. His conversation with Pyro by phone had been brief, and he hadn't felt like asking questions. It was too dangerous, anyway, just in case someone was listening in. Still, he had some time to grab a medical kit (just in case), and some food, and stuff them in his backpack before jumping into the Ford and heading out. It was only then that he had the time to think about what he was doing.
Aiding and abetting a terrorist. A guy who's killed people today. Whose picture is all over the news. Who's wanted by every law enforcement organisation on the planet.
Doug gets out of the car, shutting the door with a bang that makes him jump. It's so quiet out here, and so still. The air seems cool in his lungs; seems to calm things down. It allows him to stop thinking about everything else, about international implications and criminal charges. His boyfriend's going to be here in a minute, and he knows what he has to do.
He opens the door to the barn a little way, and steps in, swinging the flashlight beam around. There's nothing in there but some old machinery, and hay. Doug hides behind a stack of the stuff, away from the door, and kills the light. Might as well be careful. It's only when he hears footsteps outside that he wonders if he should have brought a gun.
The door opens, finally, and a shape enters, lit a little from behind - maybe by the lights on the chopper Doug can faintly hear. Something, however, makes him wait until the door closes to switch on the flashlight.
It's Pyro, alone, blinking, and holding up an arm to ward off the light. Doug lowers it a little, and comes out of hiding. "Are you okay?"
-----
A wave of relief washes over Pyro. Good. Just Doug. Which is what he had expected in the first place, but that stupid Toad, trying to plant seeds of doubt in his mind. He should have known better.
"Yeah, man. I'm fine," he answers.
It's not exactly the truth. Part of him is fanfuckingtastic. The rush he got from the attack earlier was still running through him, strumming just below the surface. It had been awesome, what he had done. But the most part of him is just really, really exhausted. That had been a massive display of powers he'd used that morning, much more than he ever had before. It left him drained, but he can already tell that his limits have been pushed back and that next time he won’t feel so weakened.
But another part of him feels... well, not nervous. Anxious, maybe? No, not quite. He isn't here to apologize to Doug, he isn’t. He feels no guilt, no remorse, for what he has done. He knows what he’s done was the right thing. But he gets that not everyone feels the same (even though they should.) Not everyone approves (even though they should.)
And he really doesn’t know what Doug is thinking.
They stand apart a few feet apart, awkward and not approaching each other. Pyro isn’t sure if he should make a move, so he doesn’t. "What about you? How are you with... stuff?"
------
Now that he knows Pyro is okay - removing a shred of fear from his mind - there's something in Doug's mind that wants to lash out and just deck him. A swift punch to the jaw, and Pyro, caught unawares, would be sprawling on the hay-strewn floor. It's what he deserves, isn't it? To have killed people. To have made Doug worry about him. To make Doug a fucking accomplice to murder.
But, then, it had been Doug's choice, too. He had known exactly what Pyro was, and what he was capable of, that time he had gone to talk with him in Providence. The time they had watched movies. The time they had kissed and fucked and fucked again. Just a few hours ago, when they had talked about being boyfriends. Christ, it all seems so trite now. This isn't about Hallmark cards. It's about criminal charges and innocent lives. So why hadn't Doug called the cops the moment Pyro had contacted him? That would have ended everything.
The trouble is, he doesn't want it to end.
Doug takes a step closer, bridging the gap between them, and hauls Pyro up against him as his thumb switches off the flashlight.
------
"So you don't hate me then?" Pyro asks involuntarily, a total slip of the tongue. He doesn't give Doug a chance to answer, just pulls him closer into a crushing kiss.
This definitely isn't the way he had thought this would go. He had expected some yelling, some accusations, maybe even political debate and discussion where he would end up having to defend himself and his actions. This is a much, much better idea.
It's completely dark in the barn, so they're all touch, gripping at each other, hands sliding under shirts and running over bare skin. It’s quiet except for their frantic kissing, though it seems loud enough to fill the entire barn.
Pyro raises a hand to the back of Doug's head, grabbing a handful of hair, and practically has to drag Doug away from him - it’s the only way he knew how to stop them, he certainly doesn’t have the will power to do it himself. "I can't stay long," he says into the black air, hating that he couldn't see Doug's face. He pulls the other boy a bit closer, his stubble rasping against Doug's cheek. "Not safe right now."
------
"No kidding." This time the anger and confusion in Doug does take a physical form, and he shoves Pyro backwards, so he trips over and lands on his back in a pile of hay bales. Ordinarily it might be incredibly exciting to have such physical power - to dominate this man who's just blown up an entire building with his bare hands - but that might have to wait for a less morally complicated morning.
Before Pyro can fight back, or yell something, or even breathe, Doug's on top of him, grabbing at his belt. The darkness is oppressive, but, up this close, he can see Pyro's eyes. "Are you sure?" he says. It's only a whisper, but it might as well be a scream in the silence of the barn. "Are you sure you got the right people?"
------
And there it is. Pyro had figured something would have to set Doug off eventually. Mellow, good-natured Doug. Pyro had known there was more fight in there somewhere.
And goddamn, if he wasn't in so much pain, he'd find it incredibly sexy.
He just lies there for a moment, lets Doug's anger seethe over him, and Pyro soaks it in as if it’s giving him more power, more strength.
"Yes, I'm sure," he replies confidently. "I don't care who is trying to cover up what. It was those fuckers. I heard them myself, heard the things they called us."
He reaches up with his hands to cup Doug's face, but the moment his hands touch, Doug grabs his wrists roughly. It makes Pyro mad but he doesn't try to break away, just grabs them back, pulling them down so they are rested on the hay above Pyro's head. It may seem like Doug was pinning them there, but Pyro's got the upper hand here. "Why?" he bites out harshly. "You have a problem?"
------
There's a moment of tension that seems to last forever, with Doug's hands tight around Pyro's wrists, locked into position, muscles tight and strained, pulling against each other. For that moment, Doug wonders if this is even a fraction of what Pyro feels like, when he has all the power and destructive force in the world. He's burning, and he doesn't like it at all.
Doug looks into Pyro's eyes, seeing - not anger, not hate, just pure confidence and strength. He's come a long way since those unruly days at the school. The stakes here are much higher than a few splinters in bare feet. "No," Doug says, and lets go.
He rolls over onto his back beside Pyro, breathing in for what seems like the first time in months. "How long have you got?"
------
Pyro has a feeling there's a lot more behind that no, but hell, he'll take what he can get for now. It was something... it was a start.
He rolls over onto his side, propping his head up. He just listens to Doug breathe for a minute, and tries to catch his own breath. Hell, that little tussle had been exhilarating. Not that he particularly wanted to be fight with his boyfriend, but still. Exciting.
"Not much. None, if Toad has his way. Luckily, he doesn't." Pyro tries to lean over and leer playfully at Doug, but realizes it’s much too dark for that to have any effect. Instead, he says suggestively, "But I'm sure there's enough time for you to show me just how oral linguistics can be."
------
Doug tries hard not to laugh. He really does. It's just... How the hell did he end up in a barn in the middle of the night listening to an international terrorist make bad double entendres? He doesn't even drink. Much.
Still, laughing feels good, and allows him to forget the serious issues that will confront him yet again when he returns to the mansion. Maybe Mr. Summers will put pressure on him to give up Pyro. Maybe he'll be thrown out. Mind you, since half the school seems to be sleeping with reformed, semi-reformed, or not-really-reformed-at-all supervillains, it probably won't even raise an eyebrow. Magneto's come close to destroying the entire world. The fact that Doug's dating a guy who blew up one freakin' building seems positively restrained in comparison. Mind you, he probably shouldn't tell Pyro that. It'll only give him ideas.
Doug turns to face Pyro, his hand undoing Pyro's belt. "You're sure Toad's not going to walk in on us?" He can't tell if Pyro nods or shrugs or just doesn't give a damn, but he unloops Pyro's belt anyway. "Believe me, Allerdyce. You'll be talking Syriac by the time I've finished with you."
------
"By all means," Pyro replies smugly. He lifts his hip up off the ground, and they work together to pull down his pants and boxers a little. The air is cool against his skin, but he doesn't mind; he's been radiating heat for hours.
He pulls Doug into one deep kiss, then breaks it off. He shifts onto his back, head falling onto the hay.
"Well, then, let's see what you got."
That gets him a deserved tweak of a nipple, but Pyro just chuckles. But his breath catches in anticipation as that hand moves down his body, and Pyro can feel Doug shift lower. Then that hand is around the base of his already half-hard cock and there's a wet tongue licking up it, and Pyro can't hold back the moan.
------
Fuck. Doug always does seem to be rather good at replacing one problem with another. He had half expected that Pyro would be all talk, and would have to make some excuse to haul ass and get out of the country before dawn. He hadn't seriously expected Pyro to want him to suck cock in a barn in the middle of the night. But, then, he obviously hadn't thought too hard about it, either. After all, he is talking about Pyro.
His hand cups Pyro's balls, and he gives Pyro's cock a tentative lick, right up the shaft, feeling veins and pumping blood underneath his tongue. This is officially his first blow job and, well, there can't be all that much to it, can there? Cock. Mouth. Lips. Tongue. A vague hope that Toad might burst in and let Doug hurry back to the mansion to read "The Dummies' Guide To Oral Sex" before their next meeting. He frowns, just as he closes his lips over the tip. That last bit didn't sound right, somehow.
------
There's something wrong. Well, not wrong. There's never anything wrong with a blowjob - unless there’s teeth involved, of course. Which sorta brings Pyro to his next thought, if Doug's tentativeness is of any indication...
This is the first time Doug's given a blow job.
And, for some reason, that turns Pyro on. A lot.
He has to keep in mind to hold back a little, to just not let go. The last thing Doug needs is having a dick shoved right down his throat, which is likely to result in a very unsexy moment. Pyro is going to have to control himself, show a little bit of restraint.
And, for some reason, that too turns Pyro on. A lot.
Apparently, somewhere between becoming an internationally wanted man and meeting up with his boyfriend in an abandoned barn that is only a dozen miles away from the estate of his sworn enemies... he's also become a bit of a pervert.
But, at this rate, Doug isn't going to have to worry about working very hard at all.
"It's okay," he hears himself say out loud. He doesn't know if he meant to. He reaches down, brushes his knuckles against Doug's cheek. "Just watched the teeth and it's all good."
------
It's cool. It is all absolutely cool. He can cope with this, even though being on his knees in a barn in the small hours of the morning was hardly what he had expected. They really have to figure out a more comfortable place to meet next time, he thinks, just as Pyro moans a little and his attention is brought back to the issue at hand.
From a practical standpoint, the whole thing isn't nearly as sexy as it should be. His knees hurt, his neck's stiff, he can't see a thing, and he's probably going to have some terrible allergic reaction to all the hay in a few minutes. On the other hand: holy hell this is amazing. He has Pyro's cock in his mouth - all the way in, now - and it's as if Doug can feel his heart beat, can feel every pulse of blood and life. With every tentative lick and flick of his tongue, every movement of his lips, he can make Pyro breathe a little faster, make him groan with pleasure. And that is worth a few discomforts.
On the other hand... (Or, at least, it would be the other hand if he had another one. Maybe he's back to the first.) His jeans are getting pretty tight and, as he grapples with his fly, he realises the very definite possibility that Pyro is going to come in his mouth. Doug tenses up a little, one hand inside his pants, and hopes he doesn't choke.
------
Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
It's the only thing that runs through Pyro's brain and he can't stop it.
His body is shaking and trembling from trying to hold back when all he wants to do it just fuck Doug in the mouth, but he keeps it to smallish jerks of his hips. He doesn't want to push on Doug's head so he doesn't touch him at all, just grasps chunks of hay tightly in his hands at his sides.
But Doug isn't hesitating, just keeps on at it, and oh fuck that's good. That familiar feeling is starting to build up in him, all the blood rushing down to his groin. It hits him full force suddenly, a bit unexpected, and he doesn't know if he can warn Doug in time.
"I... Doug... oh, fuuuuuck." His fists pound into the ground and his back arches up.
------
Doug doesn't know exactly what to expect, but fortunately he also doesn't have to spend too much time worrying about it. All of a sudden, Pyro is coming, and that's better than the alternative, because it means Doug must have been doing something right. Intellect tells him it isn't much to swallow, but intellect isn't a great help when he has another man's cock, hard and seemingly huge, pushing into his mouth.
For a second, he's terrified that he's going to gag, but then it's all right. He calms down and just does it. Swallows it like a pill and concentrates on continuing that rhythmic movement, licking Pyro clean as the other man moans with pleasure and squirms under his touch. Fuck. That's an experience to kill for.
When he finally lets Pyro go, he stays on his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand as he pulls on his own erection with some urgency. He's too hard and needy to just let it go, but Pyro won't be sticking around forever.
------
Pyro breathes heavily, trying to catch his breath. His heart is pumping a million beats a minute, and the blood rushing through him makes it sound as if there's an ocean inside his ears. He tries to make himself calm down, to gain enough composure that he can tend to Doug. Reciprocation, he figures, is key in a relationship.
Except that, when he really pays attention, he can hear Doug release soft moans, and recognizes the sound of one whacking off.
Holy. Shit. Doug was jerking himself off. After giving Pyro a blow job.
Today must be fucking Christmas. Seriously.
Pyro scrambles up to his knees, moves towards Doug. "Hey, man, I was going to-"
He's cut off as Doug pulls him into a desperate, sloppy kiss. Pyro can feel Doug's hand bumping into his stomach with each pump of his hand. Pyro is about to reach down and help out when Doug suddenly breaks the kiss and moans, and his entire body starts trembling. Pyro's arms go around Doug's waist, pulling him close and supporting him as he goes tense then shudders when he reaches his release.
Doug sags against him, and Pyro's arms support him from collapsing to the floor. Doug's breath is so warm as he pants against Pyro's neck. They take a moment to catch their breath.
"Dude, this so isn't why I came here," he finally mumbles into Doug's hair. "But now I totally owe you a blowjob."
------
"You owe me more than that," Doug mutters, and reluctantly straightens up, pulling himself back from Pyro's shoulder. He could really do with a rag to clean himself up - actually, he could do with a shower - but hay is the only thing at hand, and it won't help him very much.
He gets to his feet, straightening out his shirt, and zipping up his fly, still a little off balance in the darkness. "You should go," he says, and it's not an order, but it's not too reluctant either. He has a feeling that it will be much, much easier to think about things without Pyro around. "We need to find some way to see each other soon... I mean really see each other." If he's going to be risking life and limb for someone, he might as well actually get to know him.
------
Pyro stands up and straightens himself up, and frowns. There’s something off in Doug’s tone but he doesn’t make an issue out of it. He can’t deny the guy the seriousness or complexity of the situation. Plus, they really don’t have the time right now. The time he did have for talking was re-allotted to getting his dick sucked so…yeah, he’ll have to leave it for now.
“Absolutely,” he replies. “We’ll set it up soon. Real soon.”
He leans over and gives Doug a quick kiss. Doug doesn’t reject it, thank god, but it is a little reserved. Maybe (hopefully) just a strategy to get Pyro the hell out of here, which is actually a really good idea.
“Later,” Pyro says, and leaves the barn.
He jogs back to the helicopter, climbing in and going into the cockpit to sit next to Toad. Toad looks less than impressed.
“That was more than ten minutes.”
“Not much. Besides, you’re still here, aren’t you?”
“Luckily for you, punk,” Toad mutters. Neither of them say anything while Toad focuses on getting them up into the air. Pyro keeps his eyes on the barn until he can’t see it any more.
A few minutes later, Toad says, “So, Magneto is going to flip out over this, you know.”
“So you said earlier.”
“Especially when he finds out that you risked the mission and both of us just so you can get a blowjob.”
Pyro looks over at him in surprise. “What the fuck, man? Where you listening outside the door or something, you perv?”
Toad laughs. “Actually, I had no real idea, but thanks for the confirmation. I had figured it out, though, due to time constraints, the hay in your hair, and the come on your pants.”
Pyro looks down. “Oh, shit,” he mutters. He gets up to go into the back and change into his spare set of clothes. Before he does, though, he turns to Toad. “Um, yeah. Thanks for. Well, you know.”
Toad just grins. “Whatever, man. It’s your funeral.”
Oh, crap. Magneto really is going to flip out.