Institutionalized

INSTITUTIONALIZED CHAPTER TWENTY ONE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies and BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), I'm sending the stateside menagerie with tea to make sure you're not too stressed out this coming few weeks! And hey...I'm glowing orange after all! ;) InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink are fantabulous for archiving. :) Readers/Reviewers: I have several requests for more smut...ask and ye shall receive!



"Be quiet!"
"This is quiet!"
"Well...be quieter!"
"I don't think that's a word..."
"Okay, Fearless Leader," Jean said, making a concerted effort not to gasp as his fingers found her in the dark. "Are you sure no one is in the hallway?"
"Positive. Logan is outside with Storm trying to win brownie points by showing interest in her green house and everyone else is scattered...even the Professor is closed up in his study." Scott sighed as she shifted to accommodate his touch, leaning against the wall of the coat closet for balance. "We're safe so long as you don't moan again."
"Hm." Jean tried to glare in the dark and only felt silly. She knew that Scott could not see her so the gesture was wasted. _*How do you know that the Professor won't find us or hear us in one way or another? _ *
_* He's got that guy with him, the one he came in with really early this morning. They've been in there ever since... _ * Scott bit down hard on his lip as Jean pushed against his fingers. _*Why the closet again? _ *
_*Less traffic...it's all winter coats and boots. No one wants either of those in June. _ * Jean pulled Scott closer by virtue of a mental push against his back and smiled when he pressed against her. _*Isthisthis better than trying to avoid everyone coming in and out of our rooms because those damn guest rooms aren't done yet? _ *
_*Jean...be quiet _ *. He smiled when she laughed against him, the sound muffled by his neck. Instead of speaking then, she reached between them and removed his hand from her person. He could not see her clearly but felt her move and heard the rustle of fabric before she touched him again. She unzipped his pants with the ease of much practice, ing ing them down his legs before reaching for him again, her cool fingers gripping his arousal urgently. Scott drew in a hissing breath as she stroked him, rubbing her breasts against him in the process, drawing a moan from his throat before he was able to tamp it down. He knew she was smiling broadly in the dark and decided that he did not mind a bit that she found it funny.
Jean tilted her chin and kissed his neck, finding the spot just at the edge of his jaw that made him go weak in the knees. She drew there sharply, using her teeth and tongue and lips to make him groan in the small room, the sound preternaturally loud within the confines of the walls. She broke away from her ministrations to his neck to turn in his arms, pressing her backside against him in a very unnerving manner. Scott was fairly sure he would not be able to maintain his request for "quiet" much longer as she rubbed against him again, bending forward and parting her legs. Footsteps sounded on the stairs above them but neither cared; they knew that they were too well hidden, at least for a while longer. Scott gripped her hips tightly, feeling the soft give of her flesh and the small gasp of anticipation that made her body shudder as pressed his aching arousal against her wet center. She threw her head back, her lips parted in a silent moan in the dark as he slid into her, the sensation very nearly overwhelming. This was the first chance they had to be alone together in days and Scott found it exceedingly frustrating. It was as if, he thought to himself, getting married had made his sex drive even more irritatingly active. Jean told him it was just because they were keeping such a big secret and it was giving him an adrenaline buzz, but he preferred to think it was the former rather than the latter. She had laughed and said that she did not mind either way, so long as he kept their secret and did not mind sharing the wealth, as it were.
Her slight hitch in breathing brought Scott's attention back to the fore as she moved against him, her weight slight but persistent against his grasp. He murmured soundless entreaties as she tightened around him, her thighs brushing against his, teasing him with thoughts of her entire body nude and writhing beneath him. _Later, _ he told himself, _we'll do that later...right now, though... _ Scott's train of thought derailed when Jean reached for and grasped of hof his hands in hers, bringing it to her mouth and drawing on one finger, suckling just hard enough to send shivers down his spine, swirling her tongue around it in a mimicry of other activities before pulling it from between her lips and teeth, pushing it lower until she was able to guide the wet digit to the tiny nubbin at the apex of her thighs, a long sigh escaping her as he caught on and began to rub her even as he moved within her. She did not last long under these attentions, pushing back against him hard and fast, mewling in her effort to keep quiet. Her own release rippled through him, a symbiotic sort of reaction that made him shed the last bit of control he was maintaining, his climax filling her and joining them as they sagged against the wall of the closet, breathing heavily and each debating silently if they should try to get dressed or do it again.
_*Would everyone please join me in the downstairs study? Immediately, _ * the Professor added as an afterthought.
Jean finally spoke. "I swear, I have no idea what we would do around this place without the interruptions.
"I'd like to find out one day..."
"What are yalkialking about?" she asked, halfway through pulling up her pants.
Scott, with less to set to rights, said somewhat sheepishly, "Well, this year is our last in high school, we're both going to school in the city..." he shrugged in the dark, feeling her eyes searching for him, "I was thinking, we should get a place away from here, so we can live together as a married couple."
Jean sighed. "I don't know, Scott...it'll be hard enough being in school as it is, but trying to work to pay for a place to live and pay bills and keep up grades..."
"It's a thought...you know the Professor is paying our tuition so there's one less worry."
Jean sighed again, this time sounding a little sad. "We'll talk about iter, er, okay?"
"Okay..." Scott had a feeling that he was in for at least a week of a Jean Grey avoidance special, though, as she slipped from the closet ahead of him.

The teenagers were nearly painfully silent, staring at both the Professor and the man next to him. "Whoa," St John finally said, "wings..."
Warren Worthington III hid a smile behind his hand, masking the gesture as a cough. The Professor had no such artifice, smiling openly at his students. "This," the older man said, "is Mister Worthington. He will be with us for a while as we transform the Institute into an official school."
There were some murmured comments and a general hum of excitement at this, but Logan put it all to rest with a growl. "Lissen up," he said to the chattering students, making more than one of them sink down in their seats.
The Professor nodded slightly and continued, "As you all know, it seems to be in our best interests to make this boarding situation into an academic one as well, as Bayville High School is not...meetinur cur collective needs." He nodded again, this time to Storm, who stepped forward with several packets and proceeded to distribute them to some of the teenagers. "For those of you who have...how shall I say this delicately?...outside guardians, we have assembled this information to be sent to them. This is your copy."
Logan sighed inwardly as he noticed not many studeneedneeded the information to go home to parents or guardians. In fact, of those that still had families who wanted them or acknowledged their existence, he knew for a fact only one or two would actually care enough to respond. For the most part, their child's attendance at the Institute was a blessed relief from the knowledge that they had spawned a mutant, a supposed aberration of nature. Rogue folded the packet in half and stuffed it into the top of her boot for safekeeping, giving him a guilty glance. _I know you're going to throw it out as soon as you leave here...sometimes Chuck doesn't think things through... _ He turned his attention towards Roulette, Empath and Roberto. They did not receive packets and seemed to be whispering animatedly about something, Roulette using gestures best left to the imagination. "Kids," he murmured, coming up behind them silently as Professor Xavier introduced Warren formerly, the winged man smiling at the students and answering questions. "Thought I told you to shut up..."
Roulette looked up and for a brief moment, an expression of fear and embarrassment crossed her face before a smile slid into place. "I was just telling Roberto about how his car acted up last night."
"Hmmm..."
Roberto nodded, although, Logan noticed, he seemed reluctant. "Si, she was explaining about the...thing."
"What thing would that be?"
Empath said smoothly, "The distributor cap. They had problems with it."
"I see..." Logan said, not moving. The students were dispersing and the three before him rose to follow. Quick as lightening, he reached out and grabbed Roulette's hands, peering at them closely. "Where's the grease and oil then?"
"I...I washed them!" she stammered, trying unsuccessfully to remove her hands from his grasp.
Logan looked steadily at her. "Sure ya did, Kid..." He released her roughly and she very nearly sprinted from the room, Empath following and Roberto lingering. "What?"
"Just...I...I...nothing!" He took off after his friends, the scent of fear and apprehension lingering in his wake.
"What is it, Logan?" Storm asked quietly, seemingly materializing beside him from thin air.
"Said she didn't have grime on her hands cause she washed 'em...girl has fake nails. That shit never comes out of fake nails."
"Maybe Kitty did the...what am I saying?" Storm sighed. "Kitty wouldn't touch an engine if her life depended on it."
Logan nodded. "Something's rotten in the state of New York."
"_Hamlet?" _
"Don't ask..."

"Where's Katja?" Kurt asked upon Kitty's return with the quickly cooling coffee.
"She's walking around the hospital," Anja supplied, looking red-faced and puffy-eyed from her crying jag. "She'll be back sooner or later."
Astrid took the proffered coffee. "Es ist nicht ihr Fehler..."1
Johannes nodded. "She's taking this so hard...no one could have prevented this."
Anja and Kitty exchanged uneasy glances. "I'm sure," Kitty finally said. "How long is she going to be in there?"
"They don't know," Kurt sighed, pulling her to sit next to him in one of the hard plastic waiting room chairs. "Hours."
Kitty opened her mouth to say something but realized she had nothing to say. Instead, she settled into the seat as best she could, resting her head against Kurt's arm and staring at the unsettling picture of cherubs on the opposite wall. _I don't think angels are comforting in life or death situations...I'd put up something like kittens or dogs or unicorns. Or abstract art...No, that can look like some sort of brain tumor induced hallucination... _ She was so wrapped up in thought that she did not notice Kurt's holo acting up until it was almost too late. She glanced down at his hand, resting as it was on hers, and gasped. "You're blue!" she whispered fiercely.
"I know...hence the holo," he responded quietly, shooting a look at his parents who seemed to be nearing worry-induced catatonia.
"No, you're _blue. Now. _" She poked his hand, now fully blue and he made a yelping noise when he followed her finger's direction.
"Verdammten holo...always the worst possible time!"
Kitty took off her sweater and threw it across his hand and lap as a nurse hurried by, followed by a cadre of interns and gurney. "You didn't bring the spare?"
"Nein...I was a bit distracted this morning."
"Damn it...we have to leave." She looked around worriedly. "I don't want you getting ca out out..."
He nodded and leaned over to whisper to his mother, who snapped out of her worried daze and elbowed Johannes, passing the message along. Kurt even flashed his hand at them for emphasis. Johannes fished in his pocket and produced a plastic key card. "Here...we're staying near here...you can go back there and wait..."
"Wait for what?" Kitty asked, but Kurt shook his head, motioning for her to be quiet.
"Danke...I'll call Beast and ask what he suggests about fixing it...I don't want to go back to Bayville until I know Erika is okay."
There were hasty goodbyes and Kitty found herself sticking to Kurt like glue all the way down to the parking garage, eagle-eyed for any further faults in his holographic image. "What're you going to do if Beast can't help you over the phone?"
"I have no idea, Liebes...might have to sneak in."
"Great...that's just what you need," Kitty sighed, sliding into the driver's seat. "Well, let's just get to the hotel and see what happens."
Kurt nodded. "Nothing can go much worse today."
1 It's not her fault.