Fractals

Fractals Chapter Twenty Seven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *grrrrhoot* at usps… InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are lovely squishy bunnies for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: Avert your eyes. Morgan: *glomp * Readers/Reviewers: This is your ONLY warning… this chapter contains slash. Two males engaged in sexual activity. If you don’t like it, skip over it but don’t complain to me about it. Aside from that thank you millions of times over for reading/reviewing! :) Oh, and if you’re in the States and reading this on Nov. 2… VOTE!


St John found that the rhythm of slotting the library books was soothing, almost hypnotic. Pick one up, check the spine, slide it in beside it’s brethren with a satisfying “thump”, repeat. He smiled mostly to himself as he moved down thelf,elf, working his way through the Institute’s Modern Fiction collection and well on his way to Reference. He rather enjoyed this co-op scheme, he decided, since it was not really work and it earned him some extra money and an easy A on his transcript. It was nice and quiet during lunch break, everyone scattering to the rec room, basement or gazebo after grabbing a bite in the kitchen or dining hall. His library duties were just the thing to give him a chance to relax. He had been wound tight as a spring ever since the evening before, when he had been able to sneak a few minutes alone with Bobby after dinner. It had been intense, he remembered with a stirring low in his belly, heat spreading through his veins. He fumbled one of the texts as he tried to shove it into place and felt the color rise in his face. He had gladly given Bobby control last night, not that there was much to give. They would both readily admit that, in the more private aspects of their relationship, St John was the aggressor, the one who took charge behind closed doors, though not, he smirked, like Amara seemed to. Rather, Bobby was still unsure about some things and St John was more than happy to lead the way when the time came. Last night, though, he paused and leaned to press his forehead against the cool wood of the shelf. Last night had been *very* different.
Bobby had knocked on his door around seven, just after dinner but before any evening training programs. “Hey,” he said by way of greeting, easing past St John into the room and flopping back on the bed automatically. “God, today blew.”
St John raised a brow. “Usually, blowing is a good thing.”
Bobby laughed and rolled onto his stomach to watch St John sit at the desk. “Do you ever think about anything that doesn’t involve dick or sex?”
St John made a show of being serious and thinking deeply, frowning and scratching his head. “PreCal. But even then, something about cosines makes me think of you.”
Bobby snorted and rolled his eyes. “I feel so special now. Some guys, they remind their lovers of Euclidian geometry. But me… I get cosines.”
St John abandoned all notions of finishing his homework before he was scheduled to be in the Danger Room and instead stretched out beside Bobby on the bed, trailing his fingers across his boyfriend’s shoulders and down his spine. “So to what do I owe the honor of this visit?” he asked, his voice slightly thicker as his body responded to Bobby’s proximity.
Bobby shrugged and shifted to face him. “Do I need one?” He leaned closer and kissed St John fleetingly, so lightly that had his eyes not been open, the older teenager would have thought that he had imagined it. “Besides, had had a bad day and just wanted to spend some time with the one person who makes me feel better.”
“No pressure,” St John teased quietly, his fingers moving to trace the outline of Bobby’s jaw. “Well, I don’t have to be downstairs until a quart till eight…”
Bobby raised his eyebrows, his own fingers moving down St John’s chest, unbuttoning his shirt and stopping at the button of his jeans. “Oh? That much time?”
St John felt his heart thud hard once, seem to stop, then resume at a much faster pace. “Mmmmhmmmm…”
Bobby grinned and kissed him again, this time a more lingering, less innocent embrace. As the kiss deepened and St John sighed softly, Bobby pressed against him, pushing him onto his back, draping his leg across his hip. “You know,” Bobby breathed as they broke for air. “This would be a lot easier without the whole clothes thing…”
St John did not have to be asked twice. Two sets of clothing became one mixed piled on the floor at the foot of the bed and all sense of patience was lost. Lips and tongues and hands roamed freely across planes of flesh, warm and quivering to the touch. He felt like he lost where he began and Bobby ended as wet kisses trailed from his throat to his chest and then his stomach, his body aching for release already. It had been two weeks since they had been able to do more than hold hands, sneak a kiss now and then, and despite his best efforts, St John was finding that he did not have the self control he had prided himself on. Bobby reached for his grasping hands and pushed them against the mattress, holding him down by his wrists as he took his length into his mouth, making him moan loudly and arch his hips. St John squirmed as Bobby’s tongue alternately teased and soothed his aching nerves and flesh. When Bobby pulled away, he whimpered aloud, damning his neediness but unable to help himself. “What?” he gasped. “Why’d you stop?”
“Over,” Bobby breathed. At the panicked look on St John’s face, he added, “No, not done-over, turn over.”
St John paused for the barest fraction of a second, then hurriedly shifted as he was told. He closed his eyes, shivering, as he felt Bobby’s wet fingers easing the way for something else entirely. They had only done it this way once or twice before, Bobby having to be coaxed into it. This was the first time, St John realized, that Bobby had taken control of things in bed. The knowledge made him need release all the more. All thoughts fled his mind, however, as Bobby pressed against him. St John gasped, then bit his lip to keep quiet as he felt himself filled, so slowly it seemed to never end, his body at first protesting, tensing, then inexorably relaxing as Bobby leaned forward to kiss his back, his shoulders, whisper endearments and nothings only he could hear. At last, when they were entirely joined, St John sighed quietly, his body humming with desire and need, and then Bobby began to move within him. St John groaned, unable to help himself and not caring who heard the sound. Bobby reached around and grasped St John’s length, stroking with each thrust, both of them gasping and moaning, speaking in half words and wordless pleas as heat poured through their veins. St John cried out loudly as he felt his release course through him. Shaking, he was sure he would collapse from it as the evidence of his climax spread across Bobby’s hand and the bed beneath him, but he lost that notion as Bobby grabbed his hips and held him still for one hard, final thrust, crying out his own release and making St John gasp.

“Oh, for the love of…”
St John snapped back to the present to find Jean staring at him, her face red and eyes closed. “Er… sorry?”
“St John, if you’re going to think about it, try to use some discretion! Every telepath and receptive on the grounds must have seen that!”
It was his turn to be red. “Oh, God…”
She sighed. “Well, it could be worse. At least this way you can say it was fantasy if you had to.”
St John groaned again. “Bobby’s gonna kill me.”
‘ Jean smiled faintly. “I’m sure you’ll live… look, I need your help in the garage before lunch is over.”
He raised a brow and shoved the book in his hand into it’s place on the shelf. “Avoiding Scott still? You know, he’s really heartbroken. I wish you two would at least try to work this out.”
“That,” she replied coolly, “is personal. I just need help getting some things out of the storage lockers.”
St John raised a brow. “Okay… like what?”
“Like…” she paused and seemed to grow evasive. “Like it doesn’t matter. Just come on.”
St John pushed the book cart to one side and nodded. He had a feeling that he was about to get into a lot of trouble.