Title: To Be a Man|
Fandom: X-Men (movie)
Rating: PG-13 (some cursing)
Summary: Jeez, Scott's journal must be the most read book on the planet! Scott gets an eyeful (so to speak).
Category: Movieverse, Scott's POV, W/R UST, J/S, fluff/mind candy, humor
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, Marvel does. Don't sue; I have little money and fewer possessions. Not making a profit either. "Pink" by Aerosmith doesn't belong to me, nor does "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails.
Archive: If you have my other stories, take this one. If you don't, just ask! Guess this is a follow up to "Dance, Fearless Leader, Dance!"
Author's Notes: Again, I apologize for Gimpy!Scott. He's not a loser. Really. UST is "Unresolved Sexual Tension" and RST is "Resolved Sexual Tension". Oh, and I make a small appearance in the fic. Don't worry, it's a very small part (I'm not even named), nobody falls in love with me and I don't have any superpowers, I'm not even named, although as per Mary Sue rules and guidelines, I am spunky(but it's only implied). And Chris, you ROCK!
Pink by Aerosmith
'Ro was looking at me with that smirk on her face again. She just couldn't let it go, could she?
"Why do you look so upset, Scott?" she whispered to me, mindful of the darkened theater, the smirk still firmly in place.
"You've got that look on your face. Again." I complained.
"What look?" she replied innocently.
I snorted. Innocent. Yeah, she's about as innocent as Logan right now.
"The look that tells me that I'm about to get some remark about that damn journal entry."
"Why Scott, I told you that I wouldn't tell anyone else about that. I'm shocked that you would think so poorly of me."
I shook my head as I waited for the other shoe to drop. A smile lit up Ororo's face. "Of course, you're not anyone else."
I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn't see that. "Just say it, 'Ro."
She shrugged, the smile still on her lips. "Just thought you would like to take a look at Rogue and Logan." She handed me a pair of opera glasses.
I looked at the things doubtfully, then looked back at 'Ro. She was still smiling.
Well, this could only end badly.
My better judgment and small, teeny, infinitesimal romantic side warred within me. Better judgment got its ass kicked seven ways to Sunday.
I'm a weak, weak man.
The glasses rose up and I looked to the next box over where Rogue and Logan were sitting. Oooookay. They were sitting far to close together, but that was to be expected.
"Why doesn't she just sit in his lap and be done with it?" I muttered. 'Ro choked back a laugh.
Right, moving on. Logan had turned his chair slightly toward Rogue. Jesus, Logan, can't you at least pretend to pay attention to the damn opera?
No comments, please, about what I'm doing.
Logan's left arm was around her chair, his hand twisted in her hair. Rogue's impassive face was turned toward the stage. At least she was making some attempt at propriety. I followed her long opera glove down to her lap where her hands were folded. A tad too tightly, I noted. Frowning slightly, I looked around, wondering what had her so uptight. There was nothing-
Whoa. Hold up there, cowboy. Logan's right hand was tracing a slow circle on Rogue's right knee. Every once in a while, his hand would drift up over her thigh, light as a feather, to where her hands were clenched. Rogue's face wasn't as impassive as I had thought, I realized. Her eyes were flitting closed, her mouth was slightly open and her breathing was slightly irregular. I looked on in shock and fascination as Logan's hand skimmed across the material on her lap, moving closer to her hands. Her hands fell apart and his hand moved up-
I dropped the glasses as my brain finally caught up to what my eyes were seeing.
"I really did not need to see that." I whispered huffily as I handed over the glasses to 'Ro.
She bit back a chuckle. "I thought you would enjoy it."
I scowled at her. "Romantic, 'Ro. Not voyeur."
She gave a small smile as she looked through the glasses. "Rogue seems to be getting a rise out of it. Or rather," she continued mischievously, "Logan seems to be getting a rise out of it."
I gaped at her. Ororo was making crude, sophomoric sexual innuendos?
The end of the world was nigh.
Jean leaned over me suddenly. "Do you thing the two of you could stop mooning over Rogue and Logan now?" she whispered. "I'm trying to watch the bloody opera."
I felt my face flush. "Sorry," I muttered. "Happy now?" I hissed at 'Ro.
But she just couldn't resist. She leaned over to me, still looking through the glasses. "You know, if they keep that up for much longer," she said in a low voice, "all that UST is going to switch over to RST pretty quickly."
I gazed around the ballroom, taking in the sights. A "small" impromptu party had been organized for Professor Xavier and his students by one of his supporters. If you considered 600 people small, or any party organized for such a number impromptu.
"How did you enjoy the opera, Scott?"
I turned quickly to see Ororo walking up to me, a glint in her eye. A slight frown appeared on my face. "One, you know how I feel about the opera, and two, shut up."
She gasped in mock offense. "What an awful thing to say! I was merely showing concern for you!"
Ororo nodded, her white hair falling around her. "As you said, I know how you feel about the opera. 'A pox on humanity' I believe you said. I was only trying to make the night a little more...interesting for you," she said smiling sweetly.
"Interesting? By letting me see Logan cop a feel?"
"He was hardly copping a feel, Scott," 'Ro sniffed.
"Sorry. Letting me see Logan get to second base with Rogue then," I said sarcastically, before raising a flute of champagne to my lips.
'Ro raised an eyebrow. "What they were doing was only second base? I have to get out more," she murmured.
I choked on the champagne. A grin appeared on 'Ro's face. "Something wrong, Scott?"
No, no, nothing's wrong. Ororo Munroe seems to be turning into Logan, but other than that, everything's a-ok. I shook my head.
"Well, let me refill your glass," she said, taking the flute from me. "I'll be right back."
I watched her walk away, still shaking my head. I'll be damned. Who knew Ororo could act like that? Learn something new every day.
"Enjoyin' de view, Summers?" said Remy, walking up on my left.
I shot him a look of surprise at the trace of annoyance on his face and in his voice. "Just thing about something 'Ro said. That woman has hidden depths."
Remy muttered something unintelligible at that. He suddenly seemed to shake off his darkened mood. "So how did you enjoy de singin'?"
I shrugged, still looking at him curiously.
A corner of Remy's mouth quirked upwards. "Well, dat would partly explain why you weren't payin' much attention to de performance tonight."
I raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Only partly? I can't think of any other reason."
Remy rolled his eyes. "Dis boy ain't born yesterday, Summers."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
He shrugged. "Saw where you were lookin' at de opera. Seen a lot of other tings too. See how you look at dem, de little smiles...it all adds up."
"To what?" I asked, a little fearfully.
Remy gave me a big smile as he bent forward. "You're a romantic, Summers," he whispered in my ear.
I sucked in a breath as he leaned back and chuckled. "What's so damn funny?" I growled.
"Seein' you squirm," Remy said with a wide grin on his face. I continued to glare at him. He held up his hands. "Now you just point dose eyes of yours someplace else. It's not my fault I follow dose breadcrumbs you leave lyin' around."
"Summers, sometime I tink you might as well put a big stamp on de forehead dat say 'Romantic'. Some of de tings you do, mon ami..." he said, shaking his head.
"It's that obvious?" I said, wincing.
Remy shrugged. "Sometimes. Plus, de fact dat 'Ro told me about your little journal didn't hurt, hmm?"
"What!" I shouted, not caring who was around to hear. "That little weather witch! She promised she wouldn't say anything! When I get my hands on her-" I started to threaten, when I noticed Remy was too busy falling over laughing to pay attention to my rant. "What?"
He looked at me, gasping for air. "'Ro...told...me to...tell...you dat," he managed, then proceeded to laugh once more.
"Why does everyone think that it's uproariously funny to jerk my chain?" I asked, gesturing wildly.
"Because it is, Scott," Ororo said from behind me. Jesus, she is turning into Logan. I spun around to see her and my wife standing there smiling at me. "Besides," she continued, "I don't know why you think being a closet romantic is so awful. I think it's rather sweet."
I groaned. First endearing, now sweet. Why don't they just rip off my testes and nail them to the wall?
I'm a man, dammit!
Jean's smile widened as she sensed my thoughts. You know, sometimes it really blows to have a telepath for a spouse.
"Just wait until you see the assignments you're going to be pulling for the next month, 'Ro." I threatened.
"Ooooh, I love when you get all rough with the team, Scott," Jean cooed in my ear.
"No damn respect from anybody. Not even my own damn wife," I muttered. "See! This is what happens when Logan's around," I informed them, jabbing a finger at said person.
"Speaking of Logan," Ororo said, shooting a glance my way, "what is he doing?"
We turned to watch Logan...look at Rogue. Well, 'look' isn't quite the right word. Rogue was on the ballroom dance floor (you have 600 people at a party, you're going to need a dance floor) dancing away to "Pink" by Aerosmith.
Let me say this. One, "Pink" is not, I repeat, not, an appropriate song to play at a supposedly high-class affair. In fact, anything by Aerosmith you can safely rule out, I think.
Two, I didn't think "Pink" was even a song you could dance to. Has kind of funny rhythm to it.
Three, even if one could dance to it, it's not exactly a song you would dance alone to, you know? Maybe it's just me, but songs about oral sex are songs you should dance to with somebody next to you.
And yet, A) They were playing this song, so I guess I'm an idiot. B) Rogue seemed to be finding the rhythm just fine, and C) she seemed to be doing really well dancing by herself.
Now that's dancing. Which is why Logan isn't just looking at her.
He's LOOKING at her. And it isn't too hard to figure out what he's thinking. Probably goes something along these lines: "You know Rogue (or kid or whatever he calls her), if we weren't surrounded by 598 other people, including Chuck the Telepathic Wonder and that pansy One-Eye, I'd walk over to you right now and (EDITED FOR OBSCENE CONTENT) right in the middle of the floor. Aw, hell, I may do that anyway, pansies be damned."
So imagine my trepidation when the song ended and Logan moved out onto the dance floor. 'Well, crap. He's gonna do it.' I sighed. This kind of behavior wasn't going to help human-mutant relations any.
A pounding, heavy beat assaulted my ears suddenly. Shock coursed through me when I recognized the song. "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails? This song was possibly the most inappropriate song ever to play at a ball. Who the hell was controlling the playlist? My eyes darted around the room until they fell on a short, blonde girl, green eyes alight with mischief, smirking as she handed the DJ a rather large amount of money. I snorted. I should have known. The real question was where were the rest of her friends? My gaze swept around the room until they reached Logan and Rogue and my world tilted crazily.
They were in the middle of the floor, wrapped around each other and...not really dancing, per say. Actually, I think the best way to describe it would be "having vertical sex, while fully clothed and having no skin-to-skin contact because of one participant's deadly mutation." Yeah, that about covers it.
It was more or less the most erotic thing I had ever seen. And judging from the complete lack of activity in the room, that opinion held true for everyone else as well. That being said, I really didn't need to see this.
Ewww. Get off her leg, Logan.
Hmph. I didn't think a man like Logan even knew how to dance. Of course, as I said, what they were doing could hardly be termed "dancing". And I have no doubts that Logan knows how to do that type of rhythmic movement.
So the whole room stared as Logan and Rogue continued to get their jollies in the middle of the dance floor. And when the song (mercifully) drew to a close, silence reigned. Logan and Rogue seemed to realize then that their entire encounter had been watched. Rogue, at odds with her behavior five seconds earlier, let her hair drop around her face and wouldn't look at anyone. Logan, typically, looked around, caught my sunglasses, looked at me, then at Jean, let that damn eyebrow of his go and smirked. Then he dragged Rogue off the floor and out of the room.
Christ, Logan, why don't you just grab her by the hair, sling her over your shoulder and drag her back to the ol' cave? And please, could you refrain from insinuating that Jean's sex life must suck since I'm involved in it?
"I've really got to get laid soon," Ororo muttered.
Wow. That's twice in one evening that 'Ro's made me choke on champagne. Impressive.
Wait a minute. Ororo just said she had to get laid? Revenge is sweet, my friend.
Set left eyebrow on 'sardonic'.
I sidled up to 'Ro. "I'm sorry, 'Ro, could you repeat what you just said?"
Her eyes widened. A look of horror crossed her face. "Oh Goddess, I said that out loud, didn't I?"
A chuckle escaped me. "You mean about getting laid? Yeah, you did." I said smugly.
She moaned. "I need to leave. Now." She quickly moved away and made a beeline for the door. Remy followed her movements with interest.
"If you'll excuse dis ol' Cajun here, I got some business I have to see to," he said, his red eyes glowing. He jogged to catch up to 'Ro and put his hand on the small of her back as he guided her to the door.
Remy and Ororo? What the hell was going on? When did that happen?
Jean rolled her eyes. "Scott, if you had pulled yourself away from the Logan and Rogue saga at all during the past few weeks, you would have noticed Remy and 'Ro. The students have been talking about them as much as the other two." She paused, then smiled. "They even have a betting pool going on for both couples."
Damn. Now why hadn't I thought of that? Who would be in charge of something like that? I grinned. Bobby, of course. Now where was that little ice-
"Scott!" Jean's shocked voice broke into my thoughts. "You can't place bets on their relationships!"
"Of course not, dear," I said soothingly. "I just wanted to find out who was running the pool so I could put a stop to it."
Jean's arched eyebrow conveyed her thoughts rather eloquently. 'Don't try to bullshit me, Scott.' Did I mention that it can really suck to have a telepathic wife?
She shook her head in amusement. "Come on, Scott. We have to go mingle." She grabbed my hand to lead me away.
Suddenly, the night's events hit me. Rogue and Logan were off dry humping or whatever. Remy went off to put the whammy on 'Ro. And what was I doing? Mingling. Because I was the responsible one.
You know what?
Logan's smirk floated back into my mind. That's it, buddy, I'm throwin' down! No pansies here. So I did what any red-blooded straight male would do when the beautiful woman he was in love with toke a hold of a part of his anatomy.
I grabbed Jean and kissed her. And it wasn't just a peck. It was one of those bend her over your arm, oh-what-n ice-tonsils-you-have kisses. I had the pleasure of seeing her nicely dazed after we broke apart.
"We're not mingling. We're going home," I commanded in a soft voice. Then I showed her in my mind exactly what I would be doing to her when we got to our room.
All that stuff I said about being married to a telepath being bad? I take it back. It definitely has its perks.
I lifted Jean up and sped toward the door. It occurred to me that I was being completely chauvinistic, domineering, prehistoric and my behavior was completely unacceptable for a male in modern times.
But hey, I saw how Jean reacted to it. I felt it. So even if I only get away with this once, it'll be worth it to see her as...excited (among other things) as I know I can make her.
Cause you know what?
It's good to be a man.
"Do you guys have any idea of how much trouble we'll be in if Mr. Summers finds out we're here?" Kitty hissed at Jubilee and Bobby as they crouched in the Summers' room near the desk.
"Kitty, yes, I know, and I think you're old enough to call him Scott," Jubilee replied, rolling her eyes.
"Okay, so am I the only one disturbed here by his tale of male empowerment?" Bobby asked, looking around. "I mean, first it was the swooning, then it suddenly became how he carted Jean off to make mad, wild monkey love to her. What's up with that?"
"I'm more concerned with Remy's little come on to Scott. What was that whispering into his ear about anyway? Homoerotica, here we come! Woohoo!" Jubilee hooted.
"Look, I don't know, and I don't care if Scott wants to have sex with Jean, Remy, you or any combination of those three choices. I just want to get out of here," Kitty said, looking around nervously.
"What are you so worried about? All you have to do is run through a wall. We're the ones who are screwed if we get caught," Jubilee pointed out. "Besides, I think it's cool that Scott keeps a journal and he has this sensitive side."
"Are you getting a crush on him? You are, aren't you?" Bobby accused her. "Jeez, Jubes, not only is older, he's completely taken!"
"I don't have a crush on him! And besides, the older argument kinda falls apart with Rogue and Hairy Man gettin' it on. Now let's just take the journal and get out of here!"
"Finally," Kitty muttered. The three moved quickly out of the room, checked the hallway and ran down to the room Kitty, Jubilee and Rogue shared. They burst into the room, stopped and promptly ran into each other when they saw someone sitting on one of the beds.
"How did you..." Jubilee began, before Scott raised a hand to silence her.
"Telepathic wife, remember?" he said, rising and walking toward them. He grabbed the journal. "I'll take that." He walked passed them toward the door, then turned suddenly. "I'll let this go, just this once, because I know that this was done in innocence on a dare from Ororo. Who I'm now going to go kill. But don't let it happen again, and do not tell anyone. And I mean anyone. Or I will come after you." With that, he left the room, leaving the three in stunned silence.
"He didn't kill us," Kitty noted.
"No, he did not. And I'll be forever glad for that." Jubilee said. She looked over at Bobby who had a stunned/horrified look on his face. "You okay, Bobby?"
He looked over at them. "I just got a mental picture of Scott and Jean." The girls looked at him in confusion. "Together," he explained. Still confused. "With Scott being a man..." he trailed off, suggestively. Understanding dawned.
"Closer" by Nine Inch Nails