No More Kids' Table
folder
X-Men: (All Movies) › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
4,566
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men: (All Movies) › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
4,566
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
No More Kids' Table
This is almost too graphic, really. Apologies if it's too much or just plain awful.
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Pyro wasn’t sure how he felt about being a member of the Brotherhood, but he knew he liked it better than than the X-Men.
The X-Men…what a stupid name. In his lonely room at the Brotherhood Mansion, he was more completely aware of himself. He felt somehow more conscious of Pyro, while John…St. John…faded into the back of his memory. Girls had liked St. John, true, and he’d been popular with his fellow students, but he’d never felt like he’d fit in. They were all a little too good, a little too…noble, really. In retrospect, it annoyed him to think of the many times he’d restrained himself instead of doing something really impressive, simply because his friends were there to chastise him.
But now, with the Brotherhood, he felt encouraged. Magneto didn’t pussyfoot around when it came to mutations, not like Professor X and that mealy-mouthed Jean Grey. Not like Rogue or Storm. Logan, Pyro had thought, had promise, but even he seemed to be going a little soft. Pyro didn’t harbor any truly harsh feelings towards them, but he recognized something in the unyielding, calculating manner of the Brotherhood that was immensely appealing. He remembered throwing flames at police cars—police officers, too—at Bobby’s house, and he remembered the glorious rush of power and elation that followed. He still saw no crime in doing what he’d done. Why shouldn’t he hurt them? They were threatening him, his friends, and he didn’t see any logic in wasting empathy on people like that. Pyro knew that he belonged with Magneto, who felt that same rush and loved it.
Mystique wasn’t so different from Magneto. Both were ruthless, both highly-principled and determined in their own way, and so it wasn’t hard to see why they worked so well together. The difference, of course, was that Mystique was a woman and an attractive one. Pyro had wanted the blue metamorph from the first second he saw her, but that wasn’t a terribly unusual reaction for him. He got a hard-on from just about any mildly attractive gRoguRogue, for example, had stirred his interest and he would have moved in on her if not for Bobby…well, and that pesky power of hers. They were a cute couple, anyway, even if they couldn’t do much physically. Not yet, anyway…he wondered if she would ever figure out a way to control it. He guessed he hoped so. Rogue was a nice girl and Bobby had been a good friend, and as wimpy as they were, Pyro missed them both.
Things were finally winding down to something resembling normal in the Mansion—Magneto was happy again, since Mystique had promised to stop fucking around with Logan, and Mystique was happy because Magneto was. Weird how as soon as Pyro had decided to join the Brotherhood, a member of the Brotherhood was becoming increasingly more involved in the X-Men. He supposed there wasn’t any risk of Mystique actually joining them, though. She was a devoted member of the Brotherhood, and she clearly loved Magneto. Pyro knew he’d done something for her long ago—saved her, somehow, from a very lonely fate—but he wasn’t sure what.
Dinner was pleasant for the first time in weeks. Mystique was back, and though she added nearly nothing to the table conversation (she was laconic, as always), the meal seemed less silent and awkward. Pyro had noticed her staring across her plate, appearing to study him. Magneto had smiled over at her once and patted her hand. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of them at all times, something Pyro couldn’t grasp, and he wondered what they were thinking of now. He suspected that they were sleeping together, but couldn’t think of a way to find out without asking. There was no denying that they’d both gazed at each other with bedroom eyes on many an occasion.
"Good dinner," he mumbled, attempting to break what he perceived to be a suddenly awkward silence.
"Isn’t it?" Magneto’s voice was doting, indulgent. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Mystique, who was quietly eating. Her usual, cryptic Mona Lisa smile had returned to her face at last.
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Pyro wasn’t sure how he felt about being a member of the Brotherhood, but he knew he liked it better than than the X-Men.
The X-Men…what a stupid name. In his lonely room at the Brotherhood Mansion, he was more completely aware of himself. He felt somehow more conscious of Pyro, while John…St. John…faded into the back of his memory. Girls had liked St. John, true, and he’d been popular with his fellow students, but he’d never felt like he’d fit in. They were all a little too good, a little too…noble, really. In retrospect, it annoyed him to think of the many times he’d restrained himself instead of doing something really impressive, simply because his friends were there to chastise him.
But now, with the Brotherhood, he felt encouraged. Magneto didn’t pussyfoot around when it came to mutations, not like Professor X and that mealy-mouthed Jean Grey. Not like Rogue or Storm. Logan, Pyro had thought, had promise, but even he seemed to be going a little soft. Pyro didn’t harbor any truly harsh feelings towards them, but he recognized something in the unyielding, calculating manner of the Brotherhood that was immensely appealing. He remembered throwing flames at police cars—police officers, too—at Bobby’s house, and he remembered the glorious rush of power and elation that followed. He still saw no crime in doing what he’d done. Why shouldn’t he hurt them? They were threatening him, his friends, and he didn’t see any logic in wasting empathy on people like that. Pyro knew that he belonged with Magneto, who felt that same rush and loved it.
Mystique wasn’t so different from Magneto. Both were ruthless, both highly-principled and determined in their own way, and so it wasn’t hard to see why they worked so well together. The difference, of course, was that Mystique was a woman and an attractive one. Pyro had wanted the blue metamorph from the first second he saw her, but that wasn’t a terribly unusual reaction for him. He got a hard-on from just about any mildly attractive gRoguRogue, for example, had stirred his interest and he would have moved in on her if not for Bobby…well, and that pesky power of hers. They were a cute couple, anyway, even if they couldn’t do much physically. Not yet, anyway…he wondered if she would ever figure out a way to control it. He guessed he hoped so. Rogue was a nice girl and Bobby had been a good friend, and as wimpy as they were, Pyro missed them both.
Things were finally winding down to something resembling normal in the Mansion—Magneto was happy again, since Mystique had promised to stop fucking around with Logan, and Mystique was happy because Magneto was. Weird how as soon as Pyro had decided to join the Brotherhood, a member of the Brotherhood was becoming increasingly more involved in the X-Men. He supposed there wasn’t any risk of Mystique actually joining them, though. She was a devoted member of the Brotherhood, and she clearly loved Magneto. Pyro knew he’d done something for her long ago—saved her, somehow, from a very lonely fate—but he wasn’t sure what.
Dinner was pleasant for the first time in weeks. Mystique was back, and though she added nearly nothing to the table conversation (she was laconic, as always), the meal seemed less silent and awkward. Pyro had noticed her staring across her plate, appearing to study him. Magneto had smiled over at her once and patted her hand. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of them at all times, something Pyro couldn’t grasp, and he wondered what they were thinking of now. He suspected that they were sleeping together, but couldn’t think of a way to find out without asking. There was no denying that they’d both gazed at each other with bedroom eyes on many an occasion.
"Good dinner," he mumbled, attempting to break what he perceived to be a suddenly awkward silence.
"Isn’t it?" Magneto’s voice was doting, indulgent. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Mystique, who was quietly eating. Her usual, cryptic Mona Lisa smile had returned to her face at last.