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Breathed it In. Oops.	By : cathayshu Category: X-men Comics > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1632 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Breathed it In. Oops.
- 1
Today was a good day to be Iceman. He got to kick some major alien ass, didn't get sidelined, knocked unconscious, shot, or otherwise made eligible for the medbay AND he was in outer space! Things were totally rad. Tubular, even.

Which reminded him; he needed to reorganize his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comics again. Things had a way of getting shuffled around in the black hole of his closet. Sure, it wasn't important in the greater scheme of things, but he was fairly sure that getting his Martha Stewart on would win some kudos points from the X-Team. Or Hank, at least. Hank actually had enough books to require using the Dewey Decimal system. He would certainly appreciate organization of literary works. (Comic books totally counted!)

Uncool happenstance was that he didn't even have a pen or marker handy to write a reminder of that resolution on his arm for later.

No problem, though! He'll just have to get a pen, de-ice, write note on arm, and then he could find out if there were any snacks on board. He was feeling so accomplished and grown-up, he was even going to share the potential snacks he found with Hank after he was done medicking (is that a real word? Whatever. It sounded like one to Bobby) to the people who actually got hurt.

He ambled down a corridor that he vaguely assumed led to the sleeping quarters on the spaceship (why were there no signs EVER on these things? How were you supposed to know if you were heading towards a bed or a trash compacter?) and stopped in front of a doorway.

After a few minutes of figuring out how to even open the door (verbal activation. Figures. Last ship had iris scanners.) he walked in and was ready for some office supply requisitioning.

He wondered if all of the berths were like this one. Niche in the wall for the built-in bed, furniture that was just a bit too curvy to be Earth-made and bolted to the floor (in case the artificial gravity generators cut out. Pity. There's nothing as funny as Cyclops suddenly loosing contact with the floor and trying to keep his dignity while spinning around uncontrollably in zero-grav AND getting hit by flying furniture) and just really... outer space-y.

The desk-workspace-thing didn't yield anything resembling like a pen. Holy moly, how did their alien hosts record notes? How could they DOODLE without pens? Maybe they were lifeforms that did not engage in the act of doodling in the middle of intel meetings. That would be totally bizarre.

Later, Bobby couldn't say why he hid in the closet after hearing the unmistakable bamf of Nightcrawler teleporting into the room. It wasn't like he couldn't have just yelled out, “Dibs on this room!” or something and preserved his mental health. Everybody abided by the First Come, First Serve rules. Especially Kurt. He was just nice and considerate like that.

“A very excellent skirmish!” Kurt crowed.

“You're really worked up about winning, this time, Elf.”

Wolverine was with him? What was up with that? Bobby froze in place. Not literally, because he was already iced up, but you know, in a stealthy way. Like before unleashing a prank. Yep.

“Am I? Must be some left over adrenaline.”

Bobby could hear them walking further into the room.

“Which is also excellent, because we know what that's good for,” Kurt's voice morphed into treacherously cheerful.

Logan made one of his many varied monosyllabic grunts.

Bobby's eyebrows crinkled in confusion for just a second and then he heard the sound of something making hard impact.

Logan was making growling noises and Kurt was laughing. There wasn't any snikting, so- Were they sparring? Now? So soon after a serious (but nothing the X-Men couldn't handle!) battle? Weirdos.

More sounds indicating a scuffle. Definitely a scuffle. Being an X-men meant you learned over time what scuffles, fisticuffs, mob riots, all the way to outer space laser battles sounded like. Bobby was starting to tap a foot impatiently. After said scuffle, Logan was definitely going to go find something to eat. Ferals had metabolisms they never ignored. Kurt would go with him because they were buddies and only then could Bobby leave.

“I feel- strange-” Kurt panted.

“...Yeah?”

“I don't even know how to describe-”

“Like you need to stick your dick into everything?”

Wait- hold up- rewind- Whaaaat? Bobby's eyes boggled.

“Because I feel like that. Definitely,” Logan's voice concluded.

Bobby shut his eyes. Which technically didn't help because he was inside a closet and couldn't see anything anyway and because he was now hearing the sound of mutual tearing off of uniforms. OMGWTFBBQERRORERRORERROR

Logan and Kurt. Were going to- ERROR Going to fu-ERROR. Hoooly shiiii-

Moaning.

Bobby's brain was skittering like a hamster hopped up on sugar. He didn't know what to DO! But he knew one thing for sure. He needed, NEEDED to stay iced up. If he didn't, Wolverine was going to smell him. Like a nightmare bloodhound-chainsaw hybrid. And dice him into pieces. Bobby didn't want to be reduced to little Bobby-bits.

“Why did you stop?” Kurt's voice wasn't nice or patient sounding now.

Which is really really weird because Bobby never heard him as anything but nice or patient, ever.

“... There's no lube.”

Bobby's brain was now looping elevator music in an attempt towards self-preservation.

“WHAT,” and that right there is another strange new Kurt tone. Scary.

Bobby hears drawers being pulled open and stuff being moved.

“There has to- Berth! Give us lubrication! Please,” Kurt called out.

“The hell?” Logan was bemused.

“It works for opening the doors, doesn't it?”

Bobby bit down on a knuckle. Don't laugh. Can't laugh. Will be taken apart by adamantium claws if I laugh.

“Crap,” Logan muttered.

“Language, Logan.”

“Fuck, NO, there's STILL no lube! CRAP!”

And apparently the gravity of that intolerable cruelty finally penetrated Kurt's consciousness because he made a terrifying sound that Bobby couldn't even begin to describe. It was alien and distinctly unsaintly.

There was a mad dash past Bobby's closet and he heard what sounded like Logan and Kurt tearing the bathroom apart.

“SHIT!”

“SCHIESSE!” * bamf *

“Elf!?”

He heard Logan stomp out of the bathroom. Maybe this meant he wouldn't have to be ear-witness to more?

It was not meant to be.

*bamf *

“AHAHAHAHA!”

“Shit, did you have to land on me!?”

“But you are so strong, Logan. I can just wrap myself all over you and not worry about falling off at all!”

“Hmph.”

Bobby was glad that through some serendipitous piece of genetic luck, he didn't have a sense of smell while iced up.

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” Kurt teased. “Don't be like that. I have returned. WITH LUBE!”

“You did, huh?”

“Your skepticism wounds me, Logan. It really does. Maybe you are content with reducing the festivities to merely sucking me off, is that it?”

ERRORERRORERROR

“Humor me, Elf.”

“I raided the medbay. AARRR!”

Oh. My. God. Did he just go aarrr? He did. Things just took a left turn at Crazytown.

“Okay, Elf.”

“And now, your booty is mine!”

“... You are not allowed to talk like that unless you're drunk,” Logan growled.

“Make me. I'm going to shiver your timbers!”

Logan barked out a laugh and Bobby felt the both of their bodies hitting the sheets. Unfortunate side effect of being essentially a block of ice; he felt vibrations traveling through the floor.

He was hearing pleasure noises and he was NEVER going to be able to look either of them in the eye EVER again.

Kurt was laughing between giving obscenely loud, and well, just plain obscene sounding reactions to whatever it was that Logan was doing to him. If Bobby could think about it, he'd wonder at the delirious quality of what he was hearing. Not that he'd actually ever thought about it, (Really. No, really) but Kurt didn't strike him as somebody who'd be so loud.

“AAARRR! Prepare to be boarded!”

“Dammit, just fuck me already! FUCK!”

Bobby also didn't think Logan was a- a catcher, so to speak, being a near prototypical (if short. Seriously, you'd think he'd be a six-foot-something with all that testosterone) alpha male. The cursing, however, did not surprise Bobby at all.

Okay, Bobby, he thought. Just hunker down, put your fingers in your ears and wait it out. They'll finish and since the both of them are guys, they'll just go to sleep. And then you can flee with what's left of your sanity. Just waaait it out. Ohgod, he could feel the pounding through the floor. They were vibrating him like a subzero tuning fork. He was going to die. Gibbering.

But he did not die. He survived to hear:

“...Fuck, that was good.”

“Mmmm!” Kurt purred.

“Hey. You can pull out now.”

“...Logan, I'm not- not going down.”

“The hell?”

“You aren't either!”

Kurt had no right to be so gleeful. No right at all. Bobby couldn't cry while iced up. He just found that out in that moment.

“Huh.”

“Then, fuck me, Logan, fuck me fuck me fuck me-”

HOW? Bobby wailed in the inside. Was this some kind of mutant power (those lucky sonovabitches) that nobody talked about!?

He felt more seismic disturbances coming from the bed and then horrors, Logan was turning out to be a talker when he fucked. The conversation wasn't the height of erudition:

“Yeah!?”

“Ja!”

“Yeah!?”

“Ja!”

“Yeah!?”

“Ja!”

“YEAH!?”

“JA!”

Ad nauseum. And Bobby heard it all.

He heard (in between rounds of creative cursing) how Kurt made Logan beg him to do some mysterious thing with his tail (great, now he can't look at Kurt's tail after this, EITHER). He heard Logan holler and sing about how much he fucking LOVED Kurt's flexibility. He was hearing more than anybody ever needed to know about how Kurt's ass was tight, Kurt's dick pounding him out was a thing of miracles, and how Logan was SO grateful about Kurt's upbringing because Kurt was riding him like a circus pony. Just about the only time Logan wasn't talking was when Kurt got him to suck him off. Which didn't help, really, because Bobby knew that Logan had a mouthful when it was only Kurt making with the rhythmic moaning and yowling.

Save me! Bobby screamed in his head. There had to be some telepaths on this ship, right!? Make it STOP!

*click * “Berth 203. Reply, Berth 203,” Hank's voice buzzed out into the room.

I'm SAVED! Bobby cheered in his head.

There was aggrieved growling in response but the possibility of an actual emergency won out. Bobby heard the Logan's heavy steps towards the comm panel in the room. He didn't hear Kurt. But judging from the enlightening education from the past couple of hours, he was probably still riding Logan. Literally, this time, as a form of transportation.

“What do you want, Doc?” Logan pressed the button.

“Logan? Ahem. You did not report into medbay. I have been calling every single room in this ship looking for you.”

“Didn't need to.”

“Actually, Logan, there turns out to be actual need even if you have the fortuitous gift of a healing factor.”

“You gonna get to the point, McCoy?”

“You didn't happen to see Nightcrawler or Iceman, did you? They haven't turned up either.”

I'm HERE! Bobby screamed futilely in silence. Help me, they won't stop fucking!

“I'm here!” Kurt sang out. “Ahoy!”

There was a foreboding silence from the comm.

“Oh, my. The two of you are in the same room.”

“What's wrong? I feel fine, Logan feels fine,” Kurt's voice slipped into lascivious satisfaction on its own volition. “Verrrry fine.”

“Oh, my. Oh, my. This is quite- Oh, dear.”

Bobby didn't know what was more alarming. That Kurt very obviously (uncharacteristically, even!) implied that he dropped to the linens and did some sinning with Logan or that Hank was reduced to completely unhelpful stuttering. He's supposed to be a doctor! He's supposed to fix things!

“When your team touched down on the planet and engaged with the imperial forces, you all breathed in copious amounts of the indigenous pollen. It's spring on that planet. And we aren't adapted to breathing it in!”

“...So?” Logan was still annoyed at being interrupted.

“You've both been exposed to an extremely powerful aphrodisiac. You both need to get to the medbay and have it flushed out of your systems immediately!”

The comm crackled.

“Will we die?” Kurt finally asked.

“...No, that's the mercy. But you're both not in your right minds-”

“Who needs to be in their right minds when they can feel like this?” Kurt purred. “It's so good, so invigorating, Doctor. I know- Ah! Yes-! That you take the Hippocratic Oath very seriously, but- Leave us to deal with it!”

“Logan, what are you doing!?”

“Just stroking his dick, Doc. He wouldn't stay still otherwise,” Logan was completely without shame. “He was humping the back of my neck while we were talking.”

Bobby just barely held back the impulse to slam his head into a wall.

“What about Bobby? Where's Bobby? Is he,” Hank hesitated. “Is he in there with you?”

YES! Save me! Bobby mentally screamed again. Which was totally useless, as Hank definitely wasn't a telepath.

“Nope,” Logan pronounced.

“Oh. Well. Have you seen him?”

“Look, Doc. I got a hardon I can hammer nails with. I got a handful of blue dick. And right now, I do not give a fuck about where Popsiclehead skedaddled off to.”

“I saw him get onto this ship, so he's here somewhere,” Kurt's mind numbing arousal didn't shut down his basic impulse to be helpful. “Can we please go back to fucking now?”

Bobby could just picture Hank pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh of frustration.

“Fine! Fine, you two WILL report to medbay after a suitable period of time. Er. Copulating. I'm going to continue searching for Bobby. At least the pollen won't affect him. He doesn't actually breathe in his ice form.”

The comm clicked one last time.

Logan started making a game attempt to screw Kurt through the wall.

Bobby was aghast. He was trapped, good and proper, now. It wasn't some kind of mutant power those two were exhibiting. They were crazed on alien sex pollen. And the day was starting out so well, too!

No. No, he wasn't going to just give up! He was Iceman. He was a champ, member of X-Men and he wasn't going to let things hold him back like this.

It hurt a little to hear that neither of them cared about his whereabouts, but it was the sex pollen talking. Everything all made sense now. They were feeling each other up in front of (well. Over the comm. It counted) Hank. They were too fucked up to give a fuck about anything besides their mutual fuck-a-thon.

He was going to have to make a break for the door. Damn the torpedoes and all that.

He exhaled, determined, frosting up the entire interior of the closet. He pushed the door open and stepped out.

There was no amount of brain bleach that was going to make him clean again.

Kurt was doing his clinging to the wall thing, back to the wall, head thrown back, spreadeagled. Logan was biting at his neck, growling and screwing hard and deep. Kurt's tail-spade was very firmly embedded up Logan's ass and pumping at the same frenetic rhythm. Both of their bodies were slick with sweat and other bodily fluids.

Bobby's face went into rictus. His ice slide went ludicrous speed, slicing across the room and he screamed:

“LET ME OUT LET ME OUT OH GOD LET ME OUT-”

The door didn't make it all the way open; Bobby's ice froze it midway but that was enough for him to slalom out headfirst, smash into the opposite wall of the hall corridor and use that surface to skid all the way out of the corridor.

He didn't dare look back.

“DRAKE!”

“Confession's going to be so interesting this week!” Kurt laughed.
- 1
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Breathed it In. Oops.