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An extra note on this one: it starts out very PWP and goes somewhere else completely. A few readers commented on this at the time, so I'm posting advance warning.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel. This story contains explicit scenes of sex between teenage boys: if this will offend you, don't read it. Bobby's comments on Brazilian culture are not, to my knowledge, true: no offence is meant to any Brazilians out there!
Three: Hot Nights
The mutant hunters' base was a high-tech shambles, as Mirage and Wolfsbane sprinted out after the fleeing leader, and Cannonball blasted right through their huge battery of laser weapons, racing after the girls. Cypher, though, had been cornered by one of the furious men in their heavy, robotic armour, and was hiding behind a huge, shattered computer bank while the man hammered at the obstacle. Most of his weapons were down - Douglas had been talking to the automatic, voice activated computer system that controlled them - but that didn't stop the mutant hunter using sheer physical force to kill the otherwise defenceless young man.
*Oh, why aren't we allowed to have guns! Just those of us without offensive capabilities... just me!*
The armoured man, roaring with rage, finally broke through Douglas' protective wall with an enormous steel-clad fist. Douglas squirmed to his left, and dodged the next, restricted blow, but then the remnants of the computer bank were smashed into sparking debris and there was nowhere left to hide.
"Foolish boy! What made you think someone as weak as you could dare attack us and live?" bellowed his attacker, pulling back his fist for the crushing strike that would end Douglas' life.
"Because he's got friends, and together we're strong!" Bobby, a glistening black shadow in his Sunspot form, hurled himself at the robot-like form without hesitation. Since Douglas had shut down the energy fields that strengthened the armour, it was all over in seconds. Bobby's super-strength shattered the robotic shell, then knocked out the now cowering man inside.
"Doug! Cypher! Are you okay?" Bobby raced back over to his teammate, fear etched on his handsome face.
Douglas started to get to his feet, more adrenalised than injured.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Thanks for the save, Bobby."
Bobby relaxed, his usual dazzling grin returning. He reached out, grabbed Douglas' hand, and hauled him up, using merely his natural strength. He kept hold of that hand as the two teenage boys ran through the rubble, to the bright day outside the ex-warehouse, listening and looking for any further attacks. In the distance, they could hear the battle between the leader and Cannonball. No, they could see, high in the sky, with Dani and Rahne on the mighty, pale-winged horse Brightwind, harassing their adversary at every turn, while Cannonball struck him again and again.
"I guess there's nothing we can do now," Douglas muttered, staring up at the airborne battle. Neither he, of course, nor Bobby could fly.
"You're wrong." Douglas looked back at Bobby to see that grin brighter than ever. "There's something we have to do. Or rather, you have to do."
"What?"
Bobby leant closer. "In Brazil, if a man saves your life, you are beholden to him. You are his. I saved your life, Doug."
Doug's breath caught in his throat. "So... I am yours."
"That's how it works. For a woman or a man. You're mine."
Roughly, he pushed Douglas against the smooth metal wall, and, shedding his Sunspot form, pressed his mouth to Douglas'. Douglas gasped, then almost involuntarily opened his soft, pink lips to Bobby's hard kisses. Then Bobby was on him, tongue delving into his mouth, strong arms forcing him to stay still, a leg thrust between Douglas', rubbing and pushing against him.
"Oh yeah, Doug, I've wanted you for so long, yeah..."
Douglas could only whimper, incoherent with the heat that pulsed through him at Bobby's almost painful caresses. Whimper, and push his slender body closer to Bobby's muscular hardness, wrapping his arms around Bobby's back and doing everything he could think of to have more of this, closer, harder, faster.
Bobby kissed Douglas' neck, sending shivers of fear and pleasure through him, then nipped at him, again and again, rolling sensitive skin between his teeth. Douglas couldn't help crying out at the sensations he had never felt before, and tilted his head back to allow Bobby more of his body, all of his body. *I'm his... I belong to him...* Bobby grabbed Douglas by the shoulders and pushed
him to his knees.
"Suck me." He kept his hands braced, never doubting that Douglas would obey.
He was right, of course. Douglas could barely believe that he was touching Bobby's solid, shapely body, let alone pulling down the spandex pants, allowing the thick, dark brown penis out of the costume to sit powerfully erect an inch from Douglas' astounded face. He just stared for a moment - he'd seen Bobby naked, in the boys' bathroom, but never aroused like this - then leant forward, his lips softly open as when Bobby kissed him, and his own penis hot as it rubbed against his identical spandex costume with every movement. As Douglas's wet mouth slipped over the end of Bobby's penis, the Brazilian jerked his hips forward, an involuntary spasm of pleasure, and Douglas was overwhelmed, thrusting his own hips forward in imitation of Bobby's pleasure. Gasping, his mouth overfull with Bobby's thrusting flesh, Douglas came and came...
and woke up. His sheet was sticky with sweat and a fresh smear of semen, congealing on his softening penis and pale pubic hair. Another stupid dream. Douglas stretched out and grabbed the box of Kleenex from the desk, then scrubbed at himself with unnecessary harshness. He was so angry with himself that he couldn't catch his breath from his dreamed exertions, and his face didn't lose its overwrought crimson flush.
He felt like such a loser. Even in a wet dream where all his fantasies were fulfilled, the big story was him being rescued by a teammate. At least it was accurate, as far as that went. Now, if only the next time he had to be rescued, it was Bobby... Douglas sighed.
He liked to think that he'd become quite resigned to this whole gay thing, except for a nagging voice that told him that his real sexual desire wasn't to have sex with men, but was to be overpowered.
Rape fantasies. He'd even had one about Dani Moonstar, once, and he'd never been attracted to her in real life. The other thing he hated was feeling like a stereotype. He could set up a checklist in his mind:
middle-class
only child
friends with girls
slender and blonde
good at school
"sensitive"
crappy, useless, limp-wristed, faggy mutant power
wears spandex
isn't Bobby Da Costa
Then again, who is? Douglas sighed, and got back into bed. He didn't think anyone knew. All the guys occasionally got hard. In their costumes it was clearly apparent, so they had an unspoken agreement not to mention it, or tease anyone about it. Even Illyana was rarely rude enough to comment. It was all very fortunate for Douglas, who often found himself incredibly turned on, without warning, at the sight of Bobby. The Brazilian's hypermasculine manner meant that he was often in physical contact with the other boys, hitting them, slapping their backs, even hugging them like the soccer player he was, unaware of how he was torturing Douglas. As far as Douglas could tell, this was normal heterosexual behaviour for Bobby, and Sam certainly didn't seem to think anything of it. Douglas, however, thought a lot about it, and was very grateful for their gentlemen's agreement that meant no-one commented on what went on at the front of his pants.
Actually, there was one person that he was sure knew, and one that he suspected of knowing. The latter was Dani, who was very aware of what went on in her team, and seemed to like girls, herself. He didn't really mind if she knew that he was attracted to other boys,but he was far too humiliated by the almost masochistic element of his fantasies to ever talk to her about it. And since she had turned up in his dream, naked, astride her winged horse and carrying a riding crop, he was far too embarrassed to even think about her and himself alone in the same room. The person who did know had provided, ina really strange way, Douglas's only real sexual contact, even if Doug had only worked it out halfway through their time together. This was Legion, David Haller, the Professor's son, a powerful mutant who had multiple personality disorder.
One of David's personalities was an anarchistic girl named Cindy - for "incendiary"? - who controlled his pyrokinetic power. While Douglas and a number of others had been trapped inside David's mind, she had spent hours snuggling up to Douglas, flirting with him, hugging him, playing for his attention. Douglas had been thoroughly irritated by this silly, bad-tempered girl with weird hair,
until, as she draped herself around him yet again, he suddenly realised that this was not a girl but an aspect of a boy. Another boy was attracted to him. Before he had thought through the implications, his breathing quickened, his penis was hard, and Cindy/David couldn't help but notice. S/he immediately melded hir body to his, deftly pushing him backwards against one of the twisted
metal struts that dominated the wartorn landscape of David's mind, and kissing him hard. He'd responded, with excitement and fear, sliding his tongue into hir mouth and wrapping his arms around hir skinny back, but then the whole group began to move on, and their chance was lost. When they had eventually escaped, he'd gone to see David for real, only to find the awareness of a little boy inside the lanky body of a young man. All Douglas's nervous desire had
evaporated the instant that David showed him a picture he had drawn: it was the creation of a ten-year-old, not the fiery Cindy personality. Seconds later, the childish grin of pride in his artwork had given way to a dark, knowing smile and a flicker of pointed tongue over full lips, but Douglas was retreating, and it was not enough to bring him back. For all that David was tall, dark and as
handsome as his father, kissing him would have made Douglas a child molester.
So, here he was, returning to his slightly damp bed, alone with his dreams of Bobby. Douglas sometimes wondered if Bobby was so very masculine in order to cover up his own homosexuality. If, one night, he might notice Douglas's involuntary reaction to him and come silently to Douglas's room, ready to tell all. That particular line of thought, though, always led to Bobby losing his temper, throwing Douglas on the bed and having sex with him, just to show him who was the real man. It was more fuel for Douglas's fantasies, and he'd had enough of them tonight. He pulled the sheet over himself, turned onto his side and tried to sleep.
There was a quiet knock at his door. Douglas sat up straight, instantly awake and instantly erect.
"Uh... who is it?" he asked, quietly.
"It's me. Rahne," came the soft Scots voice. Douglas relaxed.
"Hang on a sec, Rahney!" He pulled on his shorts and opened the door for her, realising too late that if she was in her transitional or full wolf form she would smell what had been going on in his room. Fortunately, she wasn't. She was her carrot-topped human self, in her long white nightgown.
"Dougie, I had a bad dream..."
"It's okay, Rahney, you can stay with me."
Her nervous little face broke into a smile as Douglas gave her a hug and steered her over to the bed.
"We'll just stay on top of the sheets, okay, or it'll be too hot. You must be melting, you poor Scottish thing!"
"Aye." She was already sleepy again, and curled into his arms without hesitation. Douglas sighed. He knew what was going on here, although Rahne probably didn't. He'd even kissed Rahne, once, and she still felt safe to come to his room in the middle of the night.
She knew, or at least her wolfen senses knew, that he would never touch her. That he felt nothing sexual towards her. That she could play at romance with him all she wanted, and never once be in danger of the hot, wet sins that slid through her well-scrubbed Calvinist mind. And he knew the same: she would never want anything sexual from him, and so his real needs were safely tucked away, even as everyone cooed over their sweet little romance. Sometimes it turned his stomach, but he would not sacrifice this closeness, and Rahne's trust, for anything. He closed his eyes, and smiled. Everything would be all right.
Rahne lay in his arms, her breathing soft, and Bobby rampaged
through his dreams.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel. This story contains explicit scenes of sex between teenage boys: if this will offend you, don't read it. Bobby's comments on Brazilian culture are not, to my knowledge, true: no offence is meant to any Brazilians out there!
Three: Hot Nights
The mutant hunters' base was a high-tech shambles, as Mirage and Wolfsbane sprinted out after the fleeing leader, and Cannonball blasted right through their huge battery of laser weapons, racing after the girls. Cypher, though, had been cornered by one of the furious men in their heavy, robotic armour, and was hiding behind a huge, shattered computer bank while the man hammered at the obstacle. Most of his weapons were down - Douglas had been talking to the automatic, voice activated computer system that controlled them - but that didn't stop the mutant hunter using sheer physical force to kill the otherwise defenceless young man.
*Oh, why aren't we allowed to have guns! Just those of us without offensive capabilities... just me!*
The armoured man, roaring with rage, finally broke through Douglas' protective wall with an enormous steel-clad fist. Douglas squirmed to his left, and dodged the next, restricted blow, but then the remnants of the computer bank were smashed into sparking debris and there was nowhere left to hide.
"Foolish boy! What made you think someone as weak as you could dare attack us and live?" bellowed his attacker, pulling back his fist for the crushing strike that would end Douglas' life.
"Because he's got friends, and together we're strong!" Bobby, a glistening black shadow in his Sunspot form, hurled himself at the robot-like form without hesitation. Since Douglas had shut down the energy fields that strengthened the armour, it was all over in seconds. Bobby's super-strength shattered the robotic shell, then knocked out the now cowering man inside.
"Doug! Cypher! Are you okay?" Bobby raced back over to his teammate, fear etched on his handsome face.
Douglas started to get to his feet, more adrenalised than injured.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Thanks for the save, Bobby."
Bobby relaxed, his usual dazzling grin returning. He reached out, grabbed Douglas' hand, and hauled him up, using merely his natural strength. He kept hold of that hand as the two teenage boys ran through the rubble, to the bright day outside the ex-warehouse, listening and looking for any further attacks. In the distance, they could hear the battle between the leader and Cannonball. No, they could see, high in the sky, with Dani and Rahne on the mighty, pale-winged horse Brightwind, harassing their adversary at every turn, while Cannonball struck him again and again.
"I guess there's nothing we can do now," Douglas muttered, staring up at the airborne battle. Neither he, of course, nor Bobby could fly.
"You're wrong." Douglas looked back at Bobby to see that grin brighter than ever. "There's something we have to do. Or rather, you have to do."
"What?"
Bobby leant closer. "In Brazil, if a man saves your life, you are beholden to him. You are his. I saved your life, Doug."
Doug's breath caught in his throat. "So... I am yours."
"That's how it works. For a woman or a man. You're mine."
Roughly, he pushed Douglas against the smooth metal wall, and, shedding his Sunspot form, pressed his mouth to Douglas'. Douglas gasped, then almost involuntarily opened his soft, pink lips to Bobby's hard kisses. Then Bobby was on him, tongue delving into his mouth, strong arms forcing him to stay still, a leg thrust between Douglas', rubbing and pushing against him.
"Oh yeah, Doug, I've wanted you for so long, yeah..."
Douglas could only whimper, incoherent with the heat that pulsed through him at Bobby's almost painful caresses. Whimper, and push his slender body closer to Bobby's muscular hardness, wrapping his arms around Bobby's back and doing everything he could think of to have more of this, closer, harder, faster.
Bobby kissed Douglas' neck, sending shivers of fear and pleasure through him, then nipped at him, again and again, rolling sensitive skin between his teeth. Douglas couldn't help crying out at the sensations he had never felt before, and tilted his head back to allow Bobby more of his body, all of his body. *I'm his... I belong to him...* Bobby grabbed Douglas by the shoulders and pushed
him to his knees.
"Suck me." He kept his hands braced, never doubting that Douglas would obey.
He was right, of course. Douglas could barely believe that he was touching Bobby's solid, shapely body, let alone pulling down the spandex pants, allowing the thick, dark brown penis out of the costume to sit powerfully erect an inch from Douglas' astounded face. He just stared for a moment - he'd seen Bobby naked, in the boys' bathroom, but never aroused like this - then leant forward, his lips softly open as when Bobby kissed him, and his own penis hot as it rubbed against his identical spandex costume with every movement. As Douglas's wet mouth slipped over the end of Bobby's penis, the Brazilian jerked his hips forward, an involuntary spasm of pleasure, and Douglas was overwhelmed, thrusting his own hips forward in imitation of Bobby's pleasure. Gasping, his mouth overfull with Bobby's thrusting flesh, Douglas came and came...
and woke up. His sheet was sticky with sweat and a fresh smear of semen, congealing on his softening penis and pale pubic hair. Another stupid dream. Douglas stretched out and grabbed the box of Kleenex from the desk, then scrubbed at himself with unnecessary harshness. He was so angry with himself that he couldn't catch his breath from his dreamed exertions, and his face didn't lose its overwrought crimson flush.
He felt like such a loser. Even in a wet dream where all his fantasies were fulfilled, the big story was him being rescued by a teammate. At least it was accurate, as far as that went. Now, if only the next time he had to be rescued, it was Bobby... Douglas sighed.
He liked to think that he'd become quite resigned to this whole gay thing, except for a nagging voice that told him that his real sexual desire wasn't to have sex with men, but was to be overpowered.
Rape fantasies. He'd even had one about Dani Moonstar, once, and he'd never been attracted to her in real life. The other thing he hated was feeling like a stereotype. He could set up a checklist in his mind:
middle-class
only child
friends with girls
slender and blonde
good at school
"sensitive"
crappy, useless, limp-wristed, faggy mutant power
wears spandex
isn't Bobby Da Costa
Then again, who is? Douglas sighed, and got back into bed. He didn't think anyone knew. All the guys occasionally got hard. In their costumes it was clearly apparent, so they had an unspoken agreement not to mention it, or tease anyone about it. Even Illyana was rarely rude enough to comment. It was all very fortunate for Douglas, who often found himself incredibly turned on, without warning, at the sight of Bobby. The Brazilian's hypermasculine manner meant that he was often in physical contact with the other boys, hitting them, slapping their backs, even hugging them like the soccer player he was, unaware of how he was torturing Douglas. As far as Douglas could tell, this was normal heterosexual behaviour for Bobby, and Sam certainly didn't seem to think anything of it. Douglas, however, thought a lot about it, and was very grateful for their gentlemen's agreement that meant no-one commented on what went on at the front of his pants.
Actually, there was one person that he was sure knew, and one that he suspected of knowing. The latter was Dani, who was very aware of what went on in her team, and seemed to like girls, herself. He didn't really mind if she knew that he was attracted to other boys,but he was far too humiliated by the almost masochistic element of his fantasies to ever talk to her about it. And since she had turned up in his dream, naked, astride her winged horse and carrying a riding crop, he was far too embarrassed to even think about her and himself alone in the same room. The person who did know had provided, ina really strange way, Douglas's only real sexual contact, even if Doug had only worked it out halfway through their time together. This was Legion, David Haller, the Professor's son, a powerful mutant who had multiple personality disorder.
One of David's personalities was an anarchistic girl named Cindy - for "incendiary"? - who controlled his pyrokinetic power. While Douglas and a number of others had been trapped inside David's mind, she had spent hours snuggling up to Douglas, flirting with him, hugging him, playing for his attention. Douglas had been thoroughly irritated by this silly, bad-tempered girl with weird hair,
until, as she draped herself around him yet again, he suddenly realised that this was not a girl but an aspect of a boy. Another boy was attracted to him. Before he had thought through the implications, his breathing quickened, his penis was hard, and Cindy/David couldn't help but notice. S/he immediately melded hir body to his, deftly pushing him backwards against one of the twisted
metal struts that dominated the wartorn landscape of David's mind, and kissing him hard. He'd responded, with excitement and fear, sliding his tongue into hir mouth and wrapping his arms around hir skinny back, but then the whole group began to move on, and their chance was lost. When they had eventually escaped, he'd gone to see David for real, only to find the awareness of a little boy inside the lanky body of a young man. All Douglas's nervous desire had
evaporated the instant that David showed him a picture he had drawn: it was the creation of a ten-year-old, not the fiery Cindy personality. Seconds later, the childish grin of pride in his artwork had given way to a dark, knowing smile and a flicker of pointed tongue over full lips, but Douglas was retreating, and it was not enough to bring him back. For all that David was tall, dark and as
handsome as his father, kissing him would have made Douglas a child molester.
So, here he was, returning to his slightly damp bed, alone with his dreams of Bobby. Douglas sometimes wondered if Bobby was so very masculine in order to cover up his own homosexuality. If, one night, he might notice Douglas's involuntary reaction to him and come silently to Douglas's room, ready to tell all. That particular line of thought, though, always led to Bobby losing his temper, throwing Douglas on the bed and having sex with him, just to show him who was the real man. It was more fuel for Douglas's fantasies, and he'd had enough of them tonight. He pulled the sheet over himself, turned onto his side and tried to sleep.
There was a quiet knock at his door. Douglas sat up straight, instantly awake and instantly erect.
"Uh... who is it?" he asked, quietly.
"It's me. Rahne," came the soft Scots voice. Douglas relaxed.
"Hang on a sec, Rahney!" He pulled on his shorts and opened the door for her, realising too late that if she was in her transitional or full wolf form she would smell what had been going on in his room. Fortunately, she wasn't. She was her carrot-topped human self, in her long white nightgown.
"Dougie, I had a bad dream..."
"It's okay, Rahney, you can stay with me."
Her nervous little face broke into a smile as Douglas gave her a hug and steered her over to the bed.
"We'll just stay on top of the sheets, okay, or it'll be too hot. You must be melting, you poor Scottish thing!"
"Aye." She was already sleepy again, and curled into his arms without hesitation. Douglas sighed. He knew what was going on here, although Rahne probably didn't. He'd even kissed Rahne, once, and she still felt safe to come to his room in the middle of the night.
She knew, or at least her wolfen senses knew, that he would never touch her. That he felt nothing sexual towards her. That she could play at romance with him all she wanted, and never once be in danger of the hot, wet sins that slid through her well-scrubbed Calvinist mind. And he knew the same: she would never want anything sexual from him, and so his real needs were safely tucked away, even as everyone cooed over their sweet little romance. Sometimes it turned his stomach, but he would not sacrifice this closeness, and Rahne's trust, for anything. He closed his eyes, and smiled. Everything would be all right.
Rahne lay in his arms, her breathing soft, and Bobby rampaged
through his dreams.
