My Love Is Here To Stay | By : Zoisite84 Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2247 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own "X-Men" or any characters therein. I am not making any money off of this story. |
Summary: Trapped together in the Genoshan wilderness, Magneto makes an uncomfortable decision in order to help his son Pietro. Meant to be something of a gap-filler for "Family Ties" and the Phalanx two-parter (both part of season four) that follows; obviously, I couldn't leave the bit about how Mags goes and visits his dead wife's grave at the same time every year well enough alone, either. Title is from Adam Sandler's song, "Welcome, My Son."
How they end up on a mission, of sorts, together is rather accidental: Magneto is in the midst of recruiting fresh blood for his new mutant homeland, and Pietro has been sent by the Avengers as something an ambassador/spy to the Genoshan highlands to make sure that everything there is on the up-and-up. When they're caught in a storm, there seems to be little cause for alarm; and then a little bit of rain turns into a torrential downpour, the kind that the continent is known for in the summertime, and then the lightning strikes - literally. It's a spot of particularly bad luck that it hits Pietro, who topples, sizzling, a bit, to the wet ground, face caking with mud, even as Magneto screams "Son!" and rushes towards his prone form.
He manages to carry Pietro's dead weight for some distance before happening upon a low-sitting cave. On a whim, he decides that this will be the best way for them to wait out the storm, and hurries them inside. His own garments are wet and vaguely uncomfortable, but his attention is almost entirely focused on Pietro at the moment. Magneto is wiping the mud from his face when the young man's eyelashes flutter, a groan emanating from his throat.
"F-Father? Where are we?"
"Ssshh. You were struck by lightning. Rest now, Pietro. I'll take care of everything." He smoothes a hand over Pietro's forehead, but the young man arches away as best he can.
"While I appreciate you not leaving me out in the storm to perish," he hisses, his anger slightly ineffectual due to his weakened state, "might I remind you that neither Wanda nor I wish to have anything to do with you. We know what you're about, Magneto. We don't approve. Plus, need you also be reminded of the fate of our dear mother."
"I am reminded every time I visit her grave site," Magneto says softly. Below, Pietro's eyes, pale like his own, flash angrily.
"And how often is that? Never?"
"Every year," Magneto tells him honestly, his face etched with sadness, now. "On the anniversary of our schism."
Pietro looks away briefly. "I didn't know," he frowns. "I'm sorry." The two remain contrite and silent for several minutes, until a wracking chill causes Pietro to shiver violently. "I think ... I may be getting sick from this excursion," he says, teeth chattering, and when Magneto pulls off one of his gloves and palms the young man's forehead, he realizes that Pietro is burning up. "This did not go the way I had foreseen," Pietro admits ruefully, and Magneto smiles.
"The best laid plans rarely do."
He builds a fire and sets to work drying himself off as best he can, checking in on Quicksilver frequently. The young man seems to slip in and out of consciousness, occasionally mumbling things, tossing his head from side to side and, at one point, calling out for his sister before collapsing anew.
When Magneto checks on him for the umpteenth time, Pietro's skin is still nearly hot to the touch. He isn't sure that the delirium is fatal, but at the very least, the young man remaining in such a fevered state for a lengthy period of time has to be uncomfortable for him.
He brushes a hand over Pietro's sweat-sheened face and comes to a decision. The young man won't like it, particularly, he acknowledges, but it is the best-case scenario.
The fingers curling around the waistband of his uniform seems to encourage lucidity. Pietro blinks groggily, and then focuses on the face of the man looming over him. "W-what are you doing?" he gets out, and Magneto shushes him.
"Quiet, Pietro. I am simply ensuring that your fever breaks as soon and safely as possible. Stop fighting me. It is but a routine procedure. I mean nothing by it." Then his hand is curling around the other man's flaccid penis, and Pietro bucks wildly, his eyes glassy.
"S-stop! Please ..."
"Ssshh," Magneto murmurs, and his free hand pets at Pietro's cheek a little. "Close your eyes. Relax. This will be over soon enough. I am the only other person here, and you are too weak to do it effectively yourself." He begins to jerk the young man off, his unsheathed hand gripping and tugging in a brisk yet careful manner. Soon enough, Pietro begins moaning. He licks his lips, his head lolling shamefully to the side.
"D-don't," he manages feebly, but his chest heaves with the exertion of impending orgasm, and Magneto keeps going. Before long, the musky scent of Pietro's spunk briefly fills the small cave, and Magneto surreptitiously wipes his hand on the dirt floor. "Better?" he asks, and Pietro takes a deep breath and nods shakily.
"Yeah. I ... I guess so."
"Good." On impulse, he bends and presses a kiss to Pietro's forehead, smiling when he hears Pietro sigh gratefully. "Sleep, now, my son," he tells Quicksilver, and the normally speedy young man manages to nod off peaceably for several hours, lying in the same spot on his side, curled in his father's cape.
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