Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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The X-Men and any related characters are property of Marvel Comics, trademarked and registered and copyrighted and all that. I'm using them without permission.
For those who read the comics and worry about such things, this story takes place in the (much simpler and easier to follow) Ultimate X-Men universe, right around issue 54. If you don't want to dig out your copy, the team at that time is Jean Grey, Cyclops, Iceman, Kitty Pryde, Nightcrawler, Collossus, Angel, and Dazzler.
Comments can be sent to "dustyh75@hotmail.com"
Thanks.
Seth stumbled blindly down the alley, trying to outrun the mob behind him. It was really hard to make an escape through a strange neighborhood at night, in the rain, with one eye already swollen shut from the punch in the face he'd taken at the diner. He also couldn't run very fast with the pain in his side, where one of the guys had kicked him when the punch to the face dropped him to the floor. He wasn't really sure, but it felt kind of like his ribs could be broken on that side, and every time he breathed in something dug painfully at him.
He could have tried breathing shallowly for a while, but it was hard to control your breathing when you were running as fast as you could to get away from the group of guys behind you.
"Mutie! Your ass is mine!"
It was an accident, like it always was. He'd been having them since junior high. He'd tried to control it, but that didn't always work, and his parents didn't want the stigma of a mutant child, no matter what the media said, especially not on top of having a gay son. Some things were just too much for some people, and they'd made it clear that they'd rather not have a son at all. Since then, he'd tried to take care of himself, tried to blend in, but it was hard when he kept having these little incidents, and accidentally hurting people.
"You might as well stop running!"
Maybe he should. It might be easier.
All he'd wanted to do was pay for dinner. He'd had a quiet meal, sitting in the back of the diner, his bag on the seat next to him in the booth. The bag was lost now, everything he still owned in it, but he didn't have time to regret that right now. Maybe later, if he was still alive, if the guys from the diner didn't catch him. He'd watched them during dinner, wary, trying not to be noticed by them or by anyone, really. There was a group of four of them, frat guys, big jock types with the beginnings of beer bellies, crashing in a diner late at night on their way home from drinking, full of themselves and on top of the world. They'd flirted with the waitress, braying loudly as they tried to find excuses to paw her or make her bend over the table, and they seemed like the kind of guys Seth always wanted to avoid, the kind who didn't like fags and liked to use their fists.
They didn't like mutants, either, it turned out. He hadn't had an incident in over a week, but when the waitress tried to take the check, reaching out for the money even as he tried to put it on the table, her fingers had touched his hand. That's all it took, that little touch, and she was down. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but the guys at the next table didn't care. Even as Seth panicked, jumping out of the booth, trying to get away, they'd grabbed him, one punching him in the face and the other kicking him before they realized that their friend, the puncher, was on the floor, too. In their surprise, they paused for a second, and Seth ran.
"You better get the fuck back—"
Their voices cut off behind him, but he didn't look back. He had to keep running, get some distance, before they caught up or he ran out of breath or someone called the cops. It was only a matter of time.
BAMF!
Seth jerked to a stop, staggering, lurching away from the sudden flash and puff of smoke that appeared in front of him, dazzling in the darkness and the rain. He had a second to wonder what that horrible sulfur and rotten eggs smell was (Did they throw something? A bomb? What the hell?) before he saw the glowing yellow eyes in the shadow, and realized that there was someone there, some... thing?
"Wait, please," it hissed, the shadowy face revealing a mouth full of fangs, reaching for him.
"No! Ahhhhh!" Seth screamed, trying to backpedal, his feet skidding on the wet sidewalk. The monster reached for him, one weird, three fingered hand grabbing his wrist, and Seth felt his power flair up again, too scared to even try to control it.
"Unh!" the monster yelped, jerking away from him to land with a crash against a garbage can, twitching. Seth caught a flash of yellow and realized the monster was wearing clothes, some sort of strange costume, but a noise to his right caught his attention.
"Kurt!"
Seth turned and saw another monster, a boy his size made of ice, charging toward him, sliding along the sidewalk on a glistening sheet of clear ice. Seth knew he should recognize him, but it was all happening too fast, and the boy's hands were balled up into fists, swinging toward him. Seth threw up an arm, trying to block, his heart racing as the pain in his side overwhelmed him.
"You just made a big mista-"
The boy's words cut off as his fist touched Seth's arm and he, like his friend, jerked backward, gurgling an inarticulate cry as he fell. The feedback from the two touches, so close to each other, dropped Seth to his knees between the two strange boys, and the world seemed to spin around him.
His head was throbbing now, black waves rolling along the sides of his vision, everything narrowing to a tunnel. He knew who these people were, could almost place them. He'd seen them on television.
"Stop, please," a soft voice said. The alley was lighting up in front of him, and he was dimly aware of a girl, a pretty red haired girl who seemed to be on fire, but not burning. The air around her danced with flames, lighting up her strange black and yellow outfit, but the fire looked more like wings than anything else.
"I didn't mean to," Seth whispered, feeling weaker and weaker with every second. "I'm so sorry."
"It's ok," she said, reaching out, the flames following her arms. "I've got you."
"Don't," he said, slumping forward, falling. "Don't touch."
"I don't have to," she said, and he felt the flames close around him as he blacked out.
When he opened his eyes, he was standing on a lawn in front of a large, brick building. He should have called it a house, but it was bigger, much bigger. Looking around, he saw a gate, a driveway, beautiful grounds, but it all seemed empty. It looked familiar, like the uniforms he had seen on the strangers, but he still wasn't quite getting it. How did he get here, and where was everybody?
"Seth. Seth Rand. You're safe here."
He turned, and the red haired girl was standing next to him on the lawn, a light breeze ruffling her short hair. She smiled at him, green eyes sparkling, and he suddenly realized.
"You're X-Men. I saw you in a magazine, and on the news," he said, smiling as she nodded at him. "You're mutants. You're like me."
"I'm Jean Grey, and this is our institute. Our headmaster, Professor Xavier, has sensed you on and off for a couple of weeks, and we've been trying to find you to see if we can help."
"You can't help me," he said bitterly, looking away. He realized that he could see out of both eyes, and that his side didn't hurt anymore either. What was happening? "How did we get here?"
"We're not really here," Jean answered. "We're really on a jet, and you're unconscious. We're inside my mind right now because the professor and I thought it would help calm you down if we chatted a little before you woke up. We think being calm helps you control your gift."
Seth laughed bitterly.
"Gift? You have a gift. You and all your friends, you have all these wonderful amazing powers. Me, all I do is hurt people."
"That's not true," Jean said, shaking her head. "Do you understand how your power works?"
Seth shrugged. He had to admit that he didn't, really.
"People touch me sometimes, and I, well, I hurt them. Sometimes they pass out, sometimes they have seizures, sometimes they start crying. I don't know why, and I can't really always make it not happen. I don't mean to do it, but it just, you know."
"I know," Jean said, patting his shoulder. They were walking across the lawn, and the sun was shining, but there weren't really any sounds or noises, no birds or animals. "Bobby and Kurt got a pretty good idea of it, too."
She smiled when she said it, taking a little of the sting out, but Seth immediately felt guilty, and then felt even guiltier when he realized he hadn't asked about them.
"Are they ok? I didn't mean to do it. They just, they scared me, and I was so afraid, and then they touched me, like the woman in the diner, and I just, I'm sorry I hurt your friends."
He looked away, and jumped a little as she laced her fingers through his.
"It's ok. We're not really touching," she said, shrugging. "And they're fine. You caught them a little off guard, but they could use that every once in a while. Keeps them on their toes."
Seth smiled a little, too. She was so relaxed about all of this, and he felt himself starting to calm down.
"Why was that guy," the name Bobby popped into his head "Bobby trying to punch me, anyway? I thought you guys were coming to help me."
"He just got a little excited when he saw Kurt pass out. Like I said, they're fine now, and it helped me and the professor understand your powers better."
"What's to understand?" Seth asked, shaking his head. This was a pointless discussion. All he did was hurt people, and that wasn't the kind of power that anyone wanted. He'd never be able to touch anyone without wondering if this time he'd hurt them, too.
"For starters, you do more than hurt people," she said matter of factly. Seth glanced at her, surprised. "I'm reading your mind a little to talk like this, but don't worry. It's just on the surface. I'm not digging around in there. Anyway, so far you've only used your power when you're upset, right? Like tonight in the diner, you were nervous and unsettled, and when the waitress brushed your hand, that's when it flared. Same thing with Kurt and Bobby. If those diner guys had caught up with you, instead of me convincing them to beat up each other instead, you would have done it to them, too."
"That's still all me hurting people."
"Because it's all defensive. The professor isn't really sure what to call your power, but we figured out how it works when you used it so many times while I was nearby. You have the ability to make other people feel things when you touch them. You can cause pain, pleasure, or both. You just haven't realized it because you've only used it defensively, when you're upset. For now we're calling it tactile empathy, but we think it has potential for more than just emotions. We think that, with a little training and some practice, you'll be able to control it and to fine tune it, and maybe to use it to make people feel physical sensations, too."
"And then what?" Seth asked. It all sounded good, but then what was he supposed to do?
"That's up to you," Jean answered.
The two of them sat for a minute on the fake lawn, fake sun beaming down on them.
"What happens now?" Seth asked.
"Now I'm going to let you go to sleep," Jean answered. "We gave you a sedative when we got you on the jet, and when we get back to the mansion we're going to take you to the infirmary so that we can clean up your eye and take a look at your ribs. They're not broken, by the way, just bruised.
We'll let you sleep through all that, and when you wake up in the morning, you can meet everybody for real. What do you think?"
Seth was quiet for a moment. He'd only had his gift for a few months, but he was already tired of running. If Jean and this professor were right, then it wasn't really a curse, and he wouldn't have to be an outcast. If they were right, and he could learn how to control it, he could maybe have a normal life, a job, get some friends, maybe even a boyfriend. If they were right, maybe someday everything would be ok.
"Give us a chance?" Jean asked, waiting.
"Sure," Seth answered, smiling. Jean's grin mirrored his as she patted him gently on the head.
"Good. Now get some sleep."
Everything around him started to go dark again, and Seth gave himself up to it. It felt so good to finally rest.
Later that night, Scott Summers, the team leader codenamed Cyclops, heard a noise coming from the infirmary, a soft gasp that sounded like pain. He knew that the new kid, Seth, was in there sleeping, and wondered if he'd woken up or maybe rolled over onto his bruised ribs and hurt himself by accident. The professor had said to let him sleep, and that he would move into a room tomorrow, but Scott figured it wouldn't hurt to check on him even though he was hooked to monitors. A friendly, human face would reassure him in a strange place, even if it was wearing dark red glasses.
Scott was intrigued by Seth, mainly because all he knew about him was based on his teammates reactions. The professor had briefed them all on Seth's ability while they gathered in the infirmary, standing around the gurney over his slim body as the professor examined him and assessed his injuries. Jean already seemed to like him, explaining that they had "talked" on the plane while she was piloting it home. She'd lifted Seth onboard with her telekinesis, her power protecting her from his. Kurt seemed a little chagrined, agreeing that he shouldn't have startled him by teleporting out of nowhere and grabbing him in the middle of an alley.
"Ja, my appearance can be a little unsettling," he'd sighed, smiling. His blue face, covered with an invisibly light layer of blue fur, gleamed when he smiled and the light hit it differently, but with his yellow eyes, pointed ears, fangs, and pointed tail, he could be very scary to some people. It wasn't the way they usually approached people, and Kurt agreed that he should have known better. He described the sensation of Seth's power as being locked in a vice, like his own grip on Seth's arm had been multiplied by a thousand and his whole body had been squeezed at once, knocking him out.
Bobby, on the other hand, was pissed. While he grudgingly admitted that Seth had been defending himself, especially since Bobby was trying to punch him for knocking down Kurt, he was taking it personally and being pretty immature about it, especially since he said it felt like he got punched by a hundred different fists, over and over until he collapsed. Scott knew that Bobby was more pissed at himself, and already blaming it on the new kid instead, but he'd still have to watch that and address it if it got worse. When Seth woke up, he might win Bobby over, but Bobby had to give him a chance. They'd been such a mess as a team lately, anyway, that the last thing they needed was more infighting.
The only light in the infirmary when Scott entered was from the glow of the monitors and displays, but it was enough to tell that Seth seemed to be asleep. Scott walked over quietly, wanting to double check before he went back to bed to try, again, to get some sleep.
"Please," Seth whispered quietly, and Scott paused. Was he awake after all?
"Seth?" No answer, so Scott stepped closer.
Seth lay on his back in the medical gurney, his short blond hair looking almost white in the low light. His eyes were closed, and the sheet had fallen down to his waist, his bare chest and abs gleaming softly in the low light. He was slim, with a runner's body, kind of like Scott's rather than Logan's squat musculature or Peter's bulk. Seth's clothes had been filthy, and Jean decided they should go ahead and strip him down to his boxers and wash everything before he woke up in the morning. Scott smiled, remembering Kitty's giggle at seeing Seth's boxers decorated with tiny yellow happy faces before the professor silenced her with a stern glance.
Seth was still asleep, and obviously dreaming about something from the way he was muttering and shifting in the bed. Scott had no idea what it was, but Jean had cautioned them all that he needed rest and that they should leave him undisturbed until he woke up on his own in the morning. Remembering that, Scott reached down to grab the sheet and pull it back up, more or less tucking in their new arrival before he left for the night, but he gasped and froze in place as his fingertips brushed Seth's side.
Skin to skin.
The contact needed to activate Seth's power froze Scott in place. Jean and the professor had made it sound like Seth needed to be conscious to use his power, but they hadn't really tested him yet. Now it looked like they wouldn't need to, but that was Scott's last clear thought before a wave of sensations crashed over his body. He gasped, unable to move, as Seth's power flowed through him.
Fingertips ran under Scott's t-shirt, tracing his lightly haired pecs. They caressed the curves of his chest as another sensation, the feeling of a soft, wet mouth, began to nip at the side of Scott's neck. The hands slid all over his torso, probing, seeking, rubbing up and down his abs even as another set of hands slid up and down his lean thighs. Moaning softly, Scott's legs slid open, his knees shaking, as the hands moved up his inner thighs rubbing higher and higher. At the same time, the hands on his chest circled his nipples, teasing them as they stiffened into firm points, and Scott gasped again as he felt the phantom fingertips pinch his nips lightly, rolling them away from the hard planes of his chest.
Scott's head fell back as he gasped, eyes closed, the hands sliding everywhere now. They kneaded his shoulders, working over the back of his neck even as they ran up and down his arms and another set slid down his back to grasp the firm cheeks of his ass, squeezing gently. It was like he wasn't wearing clothes at all, and a thousand hands were touching him, joined suddenly by mouths. A wet tongue ran across his collarbone even as teeth gently nipped at his earlobe. Another mouth fastened itself over one of his hard nipples, the point of an invisible tongue flicking the stiff tip over and over as another tongue slid into Scott's mouth, probing, gently but passionately invading him.
Scott's whole body was open to the phantom caresses now, and waves of pleasure coursed through him. He wasn't a virgin by any means, not with a girlfriend like Jean, but this was different. This was like being attacked by ten or twenty lovers at once, lovers who knew where and how to touch and twist and pull. Scott's thick cock throbbed as he felt a pair of hands jacking the shaft in tandem, fingers tightly wrapped around it, bumping the thick rim of his cockhead on the upstrokes. Another hand caressed the head, the palm circling it over and over as another hand hefted his balls, squeezing them lightly and tugging them away from his body, coaxing a hot load from his tight sack.
Scott's body was on fire. A mouth continued sucking at his neck, fastened over the pulse, a nose nuzzling under his jawbone. Fingers continued to pinch and twist one of his nipples as another mouth nursed the other, sucking and tonguing it over and over. Another mouth was buried in his armpit now, sucking at it. Hands caressed his calves, fingernails scratched the inside of his thighs, hands squeezed his asscheeks tighter, gripping them and pulling them forward as his throbbing cock sank into a warm, tight mouth. His gasps were smothered by the mouth fastened over his, tongue ravaging him, sucking at his own. Catlike, a tongue flickered over his abs, circling his navel, while another slid deftly through his slit, scooping out the thick flow of precum before it traced the rim of his spongy cockhead. Hands clawed at his back, and his whole body tensed as a phantom digit slid between his cheeks to press against his tight asshole, pushing and rubbing, coaxing its way inside as the hands in front of him jacked his shaft and that talented mouth slurped and sucked and nursed on his cockhead. The tongue in Scott's mouth was suddenly replaced by something thicker, harder, and he felt it spreading his lips open even as another cock slid into his ass.
"Oh, God!" Scott gasped, his whole body locking up as he finally shot, spewing his hot load into the mouth in front of him.
And then he was back in the infirmary, his hand still holding the sheet as it jerked back from Seth's torso. He stumbled, almost falling, as he realized that the front of his shorts were filled with sticky wetness. Dropping the sheet onto Seth's still sleeping form, he glanced at the clock.
One second had passed. That was impossible. He'd felt all of that, felt himself driven right over the edge of pleasure, in one second? The proof was soaking the front of his shorts, and he stared down at Seth in disbelief. If his unconscious, sleeping mind was capable of that, what would happen when he was really trying? He needed to talk to the professor about this, first thing in the morning. The professor didn't need to know everything, but they wouldn't be able to help Seth if they didn't have all the information.
As he hurriedly left the infirmary for a shower, praying he wouldn't run into any of his teammates or, even worse, Jean, he thought about what he wasn't going to tell the professor. Those hadn't been any hands or mouths. That had been Seth touching him, and if Seth wanted to do that to another guy, then he must be gay. The professor didn't need to know that, at least from Scott. The professor also didn't need to know that, even though he'd been straight all his life, Scott had never been that turned on.
The end for now.