by Carmen, 'rith, and Dannell
OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER THINGIE!
We don't own Warren, Scott, Jean, nor any of the X-Folks! Marvel Comics does, more's the pity:(:( ! This is a work of fanfiction purely for entertainment purposes and not intended to infringe on copyrights held by Marvel Comics or any others! So don't sure us!
Rated PG-17 for explicit m/m sex!
And Dannell would like to dedicate her part of this fic to Tangherine: Goddess of Naked Warren Fic on the event of her Birthday! *dipsmootchie*, Sugah! And many Happy, Happy's!
And, of course to my two talented co-writers 'rith and Carmen! Ya'll are the best!
Scott's voice was almost clinical. "For the last few weeks, you've been moody, apathetic--depressed."
"So what?" he snapped. "My feelings are none of your business." Defensive anger colored his voice, a brief flare of passion against the grayness.
The glare dissipated without effect against the blankness of ruby-quartz and Scott's even tones. "It's affecting your performance. That makes it my business."
Warren's breath hissed out. *Worried about the team, not me. Of course.* "And what," he asked, levelly, "were you planning to do about it?"
"This--for a start--" And the anger vanished, along with every trace of coherent thought, as Scott took a step forward and kissed him.
He responded. It was unforgivable, but he couldn't help himself--couldn't stop from deepening the kiss, from leaning into the embrace when Scott's arms came around him--from drinking in the touch like water in the desert--
And then sense returned, and conscience, and he broke loose of the kiss, panic ringing through his thoughts. "No--Jean--" Even if Scott had suddenly gone insane, even if the entire *world* had gone insane and turned into one of those dreams he tried not to think too much about, this wasn't something he could be a party to--
:Oh, don't worry about me, Warren.: The familiar mental voice was filled with wicked amusement, and Scott's face echoed it as he felt Warren start. :Believe me, I'm...enjoying the show.:
"Jean?" he breathed.
:Who do you think is monitoring the room? We had a long talk about this; we've decided you're not getting out of here until your attitude has been properly adjusted.: He got the laughter sense again. :It might take a while, but we don't mind...:
"Unless," Scott took over again, "you have any other objection? If so, I want to hear it now."
Warren heard the unspoken part of the words--this was his way out. All he had to do was speak, and he could leave...
"No," he whispered. "No objections." And wondered if this was what drowning felt like...
"Good." Scott leaned in and kissed him again, demanding. Warren sank into it gladly, *letting* himself be overwhelmed, submitting to...whatever Scott wanted.
Vaguely he heard the holographic projectors hum, signaling a change of venue, but he was too involved to look. He "heard" Jean chuckle slightly in the back of his head again. Without warning he was in Scott's head--no, that wasn't quite right. Along with his own senses he was *feeling* what Scott was, kissing him, and he gasped into Scott's mouth.
:: Sorry, I should have warned you. :: Her mental voice was cheerfully unrepentant. :: Scott, my love, he needs to get comfortable. ::
"We flipped for it. I won. Stop 'directing.'" Scott grinned in the direction of the Danger Room's monitor board. "You're just lucky I'm letting you watch."
:: As if you could stop me. :: Warren felt warmth flow through him with Jeannie's mental caress. :: We love you, Warren. Let us love you. ::
"Oh, God." It was too much. "Do you know--how long I've dreamed this, how much I wanted...."
"We know. But we're here now. And as your friend and as your team leader, I'm asking you--" Scott smirked just a little, a look Warren didn't even know he was capable of--"no, I'm *ordering* you to let us do whatever it takes to make you feel better."
And knowing they would hear everything he meant in a word, Warren said, "*Yes.*"
Still unbelieving he watched Scott strip off his uniform tunic, clenching his eyes tightly shut long enough to replace the visor with a slim pair of ruby-quartz goggles. Then that voice again, as commanding as it'd ever been in battle: "Undress for me, Warren."
He did, belatedly noticing their new surroundings. Open blue sky as far as he could see, because of course Jean knew that he felt most free when he was flying, and beneath them a--*nest* full of pillows and cushions. It reminded him of nothing so much as New Mexico, the butte where, oh lord, where Jean and Scott had been the happiest before Dark Phoenix, and he wanted to weep for the generosity that let them share that memory with him.
A mental wolf-whistle cut across his thoughts. :: Wow. Look at you, all golden. Scott, you sure I can't come down there with you? ::
Scott shook his head. "She has no patience. Pipe down, woman."
:: Hurry up and touch him, and I will. ::
So Scott began to touch him, and it was just like in those dreams except that it wasn't, because for all his fantasies he'd never dared dream *this.*
When he dreamed he'd always seen himself the instigator, daring sometime and impossibly to surprise Scott with a kiss and then more. Using all of his skills to shatter Scott's control, leaving him trembling and aching for whatever Warren might choose to do next, crying out Warren's name in his release. Making Scott want him. *Making* it happen because he'd thought Scott would never come to him otherwise, not willingly, not like--
Not like this.
Here *he* was the one surrendering to a warm mouth against his collarbone, hands stroking down his sides. Here *he* was the one helpless in Scott's arms, as Scott turned the single-minded attention that had made him a leader from the very beginning to Warren's pleasure. And most incredibly here was Jean's brightly burning presence in his head, linking the two--the three--of them together, every sensation doubled and trebled as it echoed through the link.
Warren groaned--words were impossible--and half-fell to his knees under the intensity of it. Scott fell with him, refusing to let go. "Let it flow through you, Warren, let yourself feel us with you," Scott's voice whispering in his ear, more sensual than he'd ever imagined. He let himself be pushed backward, half-sitting so his wings hung free over the ledge, and didn't dare to close his eyes.
:: Silly. We're not going anywhere, Warren. :: This time when Scott kissed him he could *taste* Jean in it, like she was kissing him with Scott's mouth. He leaned into it, kissing Scott, kissing them both.
Few, if any of Warren's lovers had ever been able to resist the siren call of those great snowy white wings. Scott and Jean were no exceptions. With both hands Scott reached and stroked the downy softness of the sensitive feathers. Warren shivered and, gasping for breath, he felt himself stir then harden with the single touch.
"Soft ... " murmured Scott. " ... so soft ... "
His wings rustled like the living things they were and Warren's back arched involuntarily. Scott's lips met the upward thrust of his heaving chest, his eager warm mouth closing over one of Warren’s nipples. With an agile tongue Scott licked and teased the hardening bud until Warren cried out, groaning for release.
::Not yet:: Jean whispered, ::not yet, easy now, lover, easy ::
Through Jean Warren could feel Scott's growing need, the urgency of his desire burning through him, coursing through his veins like a fiery living thing. Then he felt the other man use that iron will, the strength and control that made him such a good leader, to rein it in. He slowed his pace and, beneath him, Warren moaned in desolation.
"N-no ... " he managed to gasp. " ... God, Scotty ... Jeannie ... puh-please ... "
In the monitoring booth he could feel Jean stroke herself through the tight spandex of her uniform. He caught a clear picture, in his mind, of her raptuous, glowing face, soft and eager, lips pursed, head thrown back riding wave after wave of passion and sharing it with her lovers down below. Her sweat-slick hair clung to her forehead like a warm blaze.
Gently, so very gently, Scott rolled him onto his back and Warren did not protest. Yes, yes! The wish to be take almost overwhelmed him, the joy of thrusting himself completely into the caring hands of a longed for lover was nigh irresistible to him just now, he discovered.
Scott's hands caressed the long muscles of his buttocks, whisper soft. He trailed kisses, light as the touch of a butterfly, down the length of Warren's spine. Of their own will it seemed, Warren's hips rocked with the rhythm of Scott's busy hands. His breath coming in small panting gulps now, Warren's butt rose high into the air. Quickly, Scott parted the twin globes of firm flesh, exposing the tight ring of muscle revealed there. Warm breath blew forth, making Warren tremble. With his free hand Scott reached beneath Warren's heaving body and tenderly grasped his stiff, weeping penis. Skilled fingers ringed the tip collecting some of the pre-cum gathering there.
Being careful not to cause pain or discomfort of any kind, Scott used the viscous fluid to lubricate Warren's twitching anus, then gently inserted a single exploratory finger. First one, then another stretching and preparing him, stoking softly. Warren could feel Jeannie increase the pace of her own self arousal. Thrashing and moaning incoherently now, Warren could feel the urgency of Scott's erection rubbing against him, probing, as if seeking permission to enter.
"Now!" he cried. "Now! Take me! Take me, please! Oh Goooooodddd ... "
Kissing the nape of Warren's neck, Scott joined his body with Warren's as if he'd always known the way, always been there, always been a part of him With the joyous feeling of coming home at last Warren's body rose to meet Scott's. Jean, through Scott's eyes, granted him a brief glimpse of the rosy sexual flush that began at his golden hair line and slowly, like an advancing tide, covered his entire body.
Scott began to thrust from his hips, gently at first, then faster with more urgency, bracing himself with his arms. With his hands Warren reached back and grasped Scott's straining hips, pushing him deeper inside himself.
"Harder!" he pleaded. "Harder! Come on, I won't break, Scotty, I won't break ... "
In answer, he felt Jean's arousal flood them both, heard her moan for release deep in the depths of his mind. Inner muscles worked, expanding and contracting, caressing Scott's hardened length like soft, busy fingers. Through Jeannie, he saw Scotts back arch. The rhythm of three bodies trebled and, with one last thrust from Scott, one last stroke from Jean, three voices sang out as one, ringing joyfully off the walls of the Danger Room like a song sweetly sung.
Still resting snugly inside him Scott drew the shaking Warren close to his body as if to protect him. Shivering with the many tiny after shocks of his orgasm, Warren cuddled closer into Scott's arms sighing with contentment. Safe and loved, Warren closed his eyes listening for many long moments as Scott's rapid breathing slowed gradually into sleep.
He did not hear Jean leave the monitoring booth. But she must have, he realized for there she was flushed and beautiful leaning over the two of them. Smiling, she covered them with a blanket and joined them on the soft matted floor. Warren reached out and wordlessly embraced her drawing her close. Burying his face in her hair, he inhaled deeply, losing himself in the fragrance of her hair, in the warm feminine and musky Jean scent of her body.
"We're safe," she whispered in reassurance. "I made sure to lock the doors. Warren? When we wake up ... we're going to talk, okay? I want more of this. Much more."
Warren tumbled down into slumber stroking her hair, her promise ringing in his ears and filling his dreams.