United
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,129
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,129
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
the Twinkie jar
Sorry for the long wait, but seeing as my muse is still on her little vacation I reasoned with myself that it's better than nothing...
Just for those of you that have waited too long for my update to catch the humor that would be otherwise quite obvious, *end of Chapter 2*
###“Knock! Knock!”, he jubilated in midair, after teleporting into the kitchen and holding onto the ceiling light to dangle head over heels over the table.###
###***###***Chapter 3***###***###
“Don’t fret. I’m not here to stage another fight with you.”, he smirked when the smaller man gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in apparent anger.
He continued to observe the Wolverine, he was nervous judging by the twitching of his arm muscles.
'He’s yearning to release his claws.', Victor realized astonished. He knew that Wolverine hated his claws with a passion not unlike his passion to fight, but on the other hand his mental stability depended upon their existence, they gave him a reassurance of supremacy, the knowledge that he couldn’t be dominated and was nobodies toy anymore. Their presence, feeling them braking through his skin and settling themselves into a naturally comfortable position before his fists, was calming to the Wolverine.
It baffled Victor greatly that he managed to hold back his urge for so long while standing in front of a supposed enemy. Truly thinking about it Victor was surprised that Logan hadn’t tried to surprise him with a sneak attack from behind, like he would’ve done had their positions been reversed, but Victor quickly threw the thought off with a shake of his head, making his mane fly wildly around his shoulders and settle to surround his face in a nowadays rare show of unease in the others presence.
“Actually quite the contrary.”, he admitted after thinking his words over for a minute or two. He didn’t want to make his move too suddenly for the Wolverine to understand and grasp the truth of the story he was telling him. A story of the past...his past...their past.
###***###~~~###***###
'As if!', he snorted on the inside, leaving his face impassive to the outside world. He stood there motionless, his arms now hanging loosely at his sides, his fists clenched in anger. It would be so bloody easy to just attack him and have the fight he longed for in this starlit night. Instead he waited for the first indication that Sabretooths words were as hollow as always, trying to lure him into a false sense of security. It was so like the blond to strike when he least expected it, so he didn’t let his attentiveness slack off for just a millisecond, even if it was annoying him to wait for the proper moment to challenge his longtime enemy.
'What’s he babblin’ ‘bout now?!', he silently wondered to himself, suppressing the urge to lung at the others throat and rip his heart out. He didn’t like the shaggy blond that stood not twenty feet ahead of him after all.
“What are ya ‘ere for then?”, his gruff voice finally flowed out of his throat and over the expanse of the clearing to reach the feline mutants ears and make them twitch slightly as they received the force in the air that had been caused by his growl.
###***###~~~###***###
“Don’t do that!”, he admonished sternly after his shock had worn off slightly, but he had to admit that he didn’t look too serious in his current predicament, especially if one considered the daring angle in which his glasses were continuously sneaking down on his nose. It would take only approximately twenty-eight more seconds for his glasses to hit the floor, if he didn’t push them back up to the bridge of his nose, to let them begin their slow descent anew.
Hank just scowled at the other blue furred mutant, shoving his glasses back up his nose and trying to get his hand out of the jar simultaneously.
He’d decided to disrupt his analysis of the x-mens blood samples, which he had collected during their x-check-up’s, to go to the kitchen on the hunt for some Twinkies. He’d found the Twinkies over the refridgerator, right where they belonged, but hidden from view by a voluminous box of cereal. The exact same cereal most of the x-kids feared to eat, because last time the box had been empty Scott and Rogue had thrown a memorable temper tantrum and nobody ever wanted to provoke them like that again and receive a repeated performance of what had been dubbed the ‘mindless attack of two banshees on cereal detox’. Since then there was always an additional box of cereal over the fridge, to act as a back-up should they ever run out of cereal at an inopportune moment like Sunday morning...
“If you could postpone your juvenile bath in such an absurd display of giggles and try helping me to relocate my left hand to a less containing environment, I might appreciate the effort you put into squishing the still ongoing muscle contractions of your diaphragm and let the fact slide that your out of bed after curfew with no apparent explanation for it at hand.”, Hank reprimanded the teen sternly, while struggling to maintain a nearly emotionless facade for the duration of his stoic sounding tirade, because he was silently amused about the quandary in which his left hand had been caught himself.
###***###~~~###***###
“Hahaha! Caught with your paw in the Twinkie jar!!! Oh, this is sooo....”, Nightcrawler didn’t exactly get to finish his sentence, seeing as he dissolved into fit’s of laughter at the sure absurdness of the sight before him. He let go of the ceiling light and dropped to the floor in a graceful salto to land on his feet, his prehensile tail stabilizing his landing perfectly.
After Hank’s brief reprimand he stiffled his laughter somewhat with a series of forced coughs that didn’t sound at all as if they were meant to be to cover his laughter, but rather to distract from the fact that Hank was having little success whatsoever to retrieve his hand from the confinement of the Twinkie jar and blushing profusely as his apparent helplessness became obvious, even to the Nightcrawler. Precisely that helplessness of the good doctor was what at first amused him even further, because it was simply unheard of that their genetics specialist couldn’t solve a problem. But when Hank turned pitifully pleading and helpless blue eyes onto him it was his undoing.
Stepping forward and around the breakfast bar he seized the blue furred wrist that was so much wider than his own and asked Hank to relax, so that he could pull his hand out. It was a futile attempt seeing as it was a mystery in itself that the experienced scientist had managed to get his hand into the jar at all...
Just for those of you that have waited too long for my update to catch the humor that would be otherwise quite obvious, *end of Chapter 2*
###“Knock! Knock!”, he jubilated in midair, after teleporting into the kitchen and holding onto the ceiling light to dangle head over heels over the table.###
###***###***Chapter 3***###***###
“Don’t fret. I’m not here to stage another fight with you.”, he smirked when the smaller man gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in apparent anger.
He continued to observe the Wolverine, he was nervous judging by the twitching of his arm muscles.
'He’s yearning to release his claws.', Victor realized astonished. He knew that Wolverine hated his claws with a passion not unlike his passion to fight, but on the other hand his mental stability depended upon their existence, they gave him a reassurance of supremacy, the knowledge that he couldn’t be dominated and was nobodies toy anymore. Their presence, feeling them braking through his skin and settling themselves into a naturally comfortable position before his fists, was calming to the Wolverine.
It baffled Victor greatly that he managed to hold back his urge for so long while standing in front of a supposed enemy. Truly thinking about it Victor was surprised that Logan hadn’t tried to surprise him with a sneak attack from behind, like he would’ve done had their positions been reversed, but Victor quickly threw the thought off with a shake of his head, making his mane fly wildly around his shoulders and settle to surround his face in a nowadays rare show of unease in the others presence.
“Actually quite the contrary.”, he admitted after thinking his words over for a minute or two. He didn’t want to make his move too suddenly for the Wolverine to understand and grasp the truth of the story he was telling him. A story of the past...his past...their past.
###***###~~~###***###
'As if!', he snorted on the inside, leaving his face impassive to the outside world. He stood there motionless, his arms now hanging loosely at his sides, his fists clenched in anger. It would be so bloody easy to just attack him and have the fight he longed for in this starlit night. Instead he waited for the first indication that Sabretooths words were as hollow as always, trying to lure him into a false sense of security. It was so like the blond to strike when he least expected it, so he didn’t let his attentiveness slack off for just a millisecond, even if it was annoying him to wait for the proper moment to challenge his longtime enemy.
'What’s he babblin’ ‘bout now?!', he silently wondered to himself, suppressing the urge to lung at the others throat and rip his heart out. He didn’t like the shaggy blond that stood not twenty feet ahead of him after all.
“What are ya ‘ere for then?”, his gruff voice finally flowed out of his throat and over the expanse of the clearing to reach the feline mutants ears and make them twitch slightly as they received the force in the air that had been caused by his growl.
###***###~~~###***###
“Don’t do that!”, he admonished sternly after his shock had worn off slightly, but he had to admit that he didn’t look too serious in his current predicament, especially if one considered the daring angle in which his glasses were continuously sneaking down on his nose. It would take only approximately twenty-eight more seconds for his glasses to hit the floor, if he didn’t push them back up to the bridge of his nose, to let them begin their slow descent anew.
Hank just scowled at the other blue furred mutant, shoving his glasses back up his nose and trying to get his hand out of the jar simultaneously.
He’d decided to disrupt his analysis of the x-mens blood samples, which he had collected during their x-check-up’s, to go to the kitchen on the hunt for some Twinkies. He’d found the Twinkies over the refridgerator, right where they belonged, but hidden from view by a voluminous box of cereal. The exact same cereal most of the x-kids feared to eat, because last time the box had been empty Scott and Rogue had thrown a memorable temper tantrum and nobody ever wanted to provoke them like that again and receive a repeated performance of what had been dubbed the ‘mindless attack of two banshees on cereal detox’. Since then there was always an additional box of cereal over the fridge, to act as a back-up should they ever run out of cereal at an inopportune moment like Sunday morning...
“If you could postpone your juvenile bath in such an absurd display of giggles and try helping me to relocate my left hand to a less containing environment, I might appreciate the effort you put into squishing the still ongoing muscle contractions of your diaphragm and let the fact slide that your out of bed after curfew with no apparent explanation for it at hand.”, Hank reprimanded the teen sternly, while struggling to maintain a nearly emotionless facade for the duration of his stoic sounding tirade, because he was silently amused about the quandary in which his left hand had been caught himself.
###***###~~~###***###
“Hahaha! Caught with your paw in the Twinkie jar!!! Oh, this is sooo....”, Nightcrawler didn’t exactly get to finish his sentence, seeing as he dissolved into fit’s of laughter at the sure absurdness of the sight before him. He let go of the ceiling light and dropped to the floor in a graceful salto to land on his feet, his prehensile tail stabilizing his landing perfectly.
After Hank’s brief reprimand he stiffled his laughter somewhat with a series of forced coughs that didn’t sound at all as if they were meant to be to cover his laughter, but rather to distract from the fact that Hank was having little success whatsoever to retrieve his hand from the confinement of the Twinkie jar and blushing profusely as his apparent helplessness became obvious, even to the Nightcrawler. Precisely that helplessness of the good doctor was what at first amused him even further, because it was simply unheard of that their genetics specialist couldn’t solve a problem. But when Hank turned pitifully pleading and helpless blue eyes onto him it was his undoing.
Stepping forward and around the breakfast bar he seized the blue furred wrist that was so much wider than his own and asked Hank to relax, so that he could pull his hand out. It was a futile attempt seeing as it was a mystery in itself that the experienced scientist had managed to get his hand into the jar at all...