Title: Kinda I Want To
Author: Askani'daughter / Eruntalince (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Pairing/main characters: Cyclops/Angel
Summary: There's something going on between Cyclops and Angel. Only everyone seems to know about it but Cyclops. Is it love, is it hate? Is it want, is it need? What will it take to bring them together?
Date: March 2002
Warning: This is a slash fanfiction of Cyclops (Scott Summers) and Angel (Warren Worthington III) of the Uncanny X-Men. It is rated NC-17. This story features male homosexuality, and explicit male homosexual encounters. If this disturbs you, then please leave right now. However, if you dig this sorta action, then please read on. This story has absolutely nothing to do with Children of the Atom, my other X-Men fanfic.
Notes: This story is not set in any particular storyline or continuity of the X-Men universe. Any incongruities between the present X-Men storyline and this one are purely intentional. The X-Men line-up changes so often, I'm just going by the way it was when I last read the comic, which was a few years ago. Cyclops is leader, Storm second, and the team consists of Angel, Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, Iceman, Beast, Jean Grey (Phoenix), Psylocke, Bishop and Cannonball. Cable is the leader of X-Force, and Jubilee has already traipsed off to Generation X with Banshee. Angel has already lost the metal wings, and gotten his real ones grown back in. Onslaught has come and gone, and the Professor has recently returned to the X-Men. I am however advancing relationships as I see how they would go within that line-up, while still respecting characterization. But then again, that's the fun of fanfiction. :)
Kinda I Want To 1 - Through Jean's Eyes
I can't shake this feeling in my head
There's a devil sleeping in my bed
He's watching you from across the way
I can't make this feeling go away
I know it's not the right thing
And I know it's not the good thing
But kinda I want to
I'm not sure of what I should do
When all I'm thinking of is you
All of my excuses turn to lies
Maybe God will cover up his eyes
I know it's not the right thing
And I know it's not the good thing
But kinda I want to
Maybe just for tonight
We can pretend it's alright
What's the price I pay
I don't care what they say
[I'll take my chance tonight]
----- Lyrics to Kinda I Want To, by Nine Inch Nails
When you're a telepath, it's hard not to know the thoughts and feelings that run through people's minds. But the tricky part is trying to understand them.
Forgive me, did I forget to introduce myself? My name is Jean. Jean Grey-Summers. Most know me as Phoenix, for better or for worse.
I can't pretend like I never knew how Warren felt. Even before my telepathic powers were developed, I could feel it. It's like heat spreading from his body sometimes. When we were teenagers, it was pretty bad, but at that time I was barely even empathic.
But we're adults now, and Warren's twenty-seven years old. But the feelings are still there.
Even without my telepathy and empathy, I think I would be able to tell. And I'm not the only one who's noticed. You've noticed, Professor, but you're also a telepath, so I'm not sure that counts. Wolverine's noticed, but thank God he's never spoken of it. I think it makes Logan uncomfortable, so he prefers to ignore feelings like that. Storm's noticed, and though she disapproves of such things, she also says nothing, but then again, she's not the sort. Rogue's noticed, bless her heart. Rogue's not as stupid as one might think based upon her thick Southern accent. Rogue, due to her inability to touch people because of her mutant power, is definitely the type to notice and understand desire. Rogue's never said a thing, but her reason is simple wisdom. She doesn't want to upset anyone, particularly Warren. Gambit's noticed, but Gambit is the sort that also notices desire, and that's because he feeds off of lust. He's mentioned it to Warren, of that I'm sure. He taunts Warren with it, but Warren emphatically denies it. Psylocke knows, due to her telepathy and her former romantic relationship with Warren. I think it's one of the reasons why she broke up with him.
I have to admit, with only those few observant souls noticing over all the years, and all the X-Men he's known, that Warren hides it well. But I know humans and the human mind, and I know Warren Worthington III well. I know body language, and the X-Man known as Angel can't hide the fact that he desires my husband, Scott Summers.
Once you notice it, it becomes obvious. In the way Warren looks at Scott, regardless of manner. Warren looks at Scott hungrily, intensely. Even when he's trying to hide it, it's obvious. No man could look at another man with so much intensity and observation and not be attracted to the man he's looking at. And when he doesn't try to hide it, which is rare, Warren's face takes on the look of a hungry man, who's finally found food. His come-hither looks are better than most women's.
It's in the way he stands, or sits, around Scott. In that casual, graceful show of his own beauty. The shift of one hip high than the other. The beautiful placement of his wings. The set of his shoulders. The narrow-lidded eyes and slow smile. Most people take that to be Warren Worthington's simple display of arrogance, but it's a show he only puts on around my husband.
It's mostly subconscious, though. Warren doesn't consciously act like that around Scott. His desires almost cause his body to move of it's own accord. I don't think Warren realizes that he even does it. He realizes he has these feelings, but he just doesn't deal with them. It's not like Warren buries them, he just... puts them aside. Not so much burying emotions, but putting them in your sock drawer, and forgetting about it until you go get socks out of there.
We're at the pool. Everyone's having a blast, except for Rogue, who sits off on her towel, looking forlorn. She can't risk jumping into the pool when others are in there, for fear of absorbing their powers and personas. My heart goes out to her.
Warren is on the lounge chair, for all appearances trying to soak up rays. His pale blue skin has been well-oiled, and gleams in the sun, soft and moist, begging to be touched. His wings are spread out beneath him, the crowning glory to his unsurpassable beauty. He looks like your typical playboy, showing off.
What they don't know is that Warren is too intimidated to enter the pool while Scott's in there. I sit on my lounge chair, carefully applying suntan block to my pale skin, soaking up Warren's emotions like he does the sun. Scott is playing water volleyball with most of the gang, driving the ball as hard as ever, laughing and splashing like the others. Scott doesn't even realize how attractive he is. Warren's content just to watch him.
The angelic X-Man often glances in my direction, wondering idly if I know. I carefully keep my face neutral, not even sparing him a glance. He suspects I know, but he can't be sure. I've never acted differently, regardless. It makes him nervous, and he counts on his mental shielding to protect him from me. But I know him too well, and for too long.
Scott comes out, letting the others continue to play, as he checks on the barbecue, ever the responsible leader. Rogue's been helping him, and he tries to engage her in conversation, to cheer her up a little. Rogue can't resist my husband, most women can't. He makes her smile, and her dark mood lifts as he involves her, as the others had been ignoring her. Warren looks a little jealous of the attention Scott pays her.
Warren's body tenses as Scott passes him by while he works on our lunch. His muscles tense, drawing their sculpted perfection out for anyone to notice. Even his toes tense, his whole body stilling to be perfect for when Scott looks at him. Warren's wearing sunglasses, but beneath the reflective shades, his eyes narrow slightly, his face taking on a slightly saturnine look of desire. Scott's eyes pause briefly over Warren's perfect body, admiring the curve and shape of Warren's slender, smooth beauty. How could anyone not admire Warren Worthington? He is an angel, at least in form.
A look of satisfaction passes across Warren's perfect features, even though the admiring glance was brief and dismissive. A small victory, and about all he expects to ever get.
"Are you sure you're doing that right, Slim?" Warren purrs out seductively. To Scott, and any other unobservant soul, it sounds like he's trying to cut Scott down to size.
A brief look of irritation passes across Scott's chiseled features. "I've barbecued before, Birdman. I know what I'm doing. Whenever you want to actually do some work, feel free to lend a manicured hand," Scott snaps out. He only calls Warren "Birdman" when Warren is getting on his nerves.
Their supposed rivalry for me is really a sham. Warren never really loved me. He loved the idea of me. But it all boiled down to the fact that Scott loved me, was interested in me, and not Warren. Jealousy caused him to want to take me away from Scott, hence the early flirtations he and I used to exchange. Until I knew better, and he realized it was a lost cause. Both ways.
What Scott takes as Warren's insults, I know to be Warren's subtle hints and flirtations. Scott's naive about some things, and homosexuality seems to be one of those things. Scott doesn't even stop to think the reason why Warren's always on his case, is because Warren wants attention, and it's the only way Warren knows how to get attention from Scott. Warren goes about it all the wrong way. People think they're rivals, but those people don't see past the surface.
"Why should I do work, One-Eye, when you are so supposedly capable of doing it yourself? Just don't turn the food into charcoal again," Warren bristles. He hates being called "Birdman".
"I haven't done that in years, Warren, why do you always have to drag up the past?" Scott growls from the grill, his eyes narrowed behind his visor, clenching the spatula. Warren has always been able to get under Scott's skin, from the beginning.
Before Warren can retort, and an argument ensues, Rogue cuts in. "Would the pair of ya jus' shut up? Are ya both PMSin' again? Ya'll are worse than a pair of 'coons fightin' over trash," she scolds them. She gives Warren an odd look, a look that silences him.
Scott silently works on the food, while Rogue helps him. Warren goes back to silently soaking up rays, while secretly watching Scott's every move.
It's hard to explain why Warren is attracted to Scott. The gender part is easy, of course. Warren is beautiful, and desirable. To both genders. Warren feels equally about both men and women, but he keeps his bisexuality quiet. He might like to sleep with other men, and has done it many times in his young life, but he'll never admit it to any of his closest friends. It'll ruin his reputation. Like most everything with Warren, even his supposed sexual preference isn't what it seems once you scratch the surface.
But why Scott? Even with telepathy, I can't completely understand it. Warren has so many conflicting emotions about my husband. Part of him is indeed competitive and jealous of Scott. Warren respects Scott's cool reserve and warm compassion. Warren wants to have Scott's unshakable faith, and incredible emotional strength. Scott makes Warren feel intimidated. Warren seems to be perfect physically, while Scott seems to be perfect spiritually.
But the other part of Warren, the part that doesn't necessarily want to be Scott, or be better than Scott, desires to be with Scott. True, he's physically attracted to Scott, but that's just the surface. Scott is incredibly handsome, and unconsciously sexy. Everything about Warren screams beauty and grace, while in Scott is the beauty of stone: unbreakable, firm, and intense. Scott is classically handsome, and the sculpture of his own well-muscled body, and the shape of his handsome face, and strong jaw is enough to have many women flock to him. Why not even a few men?
But what makes the attraction so deep, and why it's lasted for so many years, is because of Scott's personality. Scott is wise and intelligent, but so innocent and naive in ways. It appeals to Warren. As complicated as Warren is, it only makes sense he would desire someone who's also not what they seem. In Scott, the rock solid leader of the X-Men, lies a sweet innocence and charm more befitting a child than a man.
Warren wants to be up close with that innocence. To appreciate a soul untarnished, which is so rare in this world we live in. He wants Scott to be there for him like he's there for me. He wants Scott to hold him and make him feel better about himself, to lend Warren some of his strength. He wants Scott's warmth, to bask in Scott's compassion. He wants to share in Scott's physical and spiritual beauty, to be part of Scott.
You see, Warren's not what most people think he is. He's not an arrogant playboy that's full of himself and money. Warren is arrogant, but not confident. Warren feels unworthy, and weak. Beside X-Men like myself or Storm, his mere power of winged flight seems inconsequential. Beside X-Men like Rogue or Bishop, his inner strength seems faulty and easily broken. Warren was never terribly confident in himself to begin with, always secretly wondering if he was good enough to be a hero. But Apocalypse shook him to the core, creating a bitterness and self-loathing in him. Between everything that has happened with Onslaught, Magneto, Sabretooth, and even you, Professor, it's no wonder that Warren doubts himself, and feels like a weak, lost little boy.
And he wants Scott to shelter him from the storm. Because he knows Scott could do it. Scott could make Warren feel strong, could make Warren feel like a man, and not a frightened little boy lost in a world of hatred and pain. Warren thinks he's weak, and his self-confidence has been shattered too many times too count. Outwardly, he picks up the pieces, and quickly returns to being a shallow, if somewhat bitter, rich playboy, but I know better. Warren can even continue to pretend to be the bitter, hardened man he wants people to think he is, but I know him. Warren's hurting.
And that's why I can't condemn Warren for his desires. Because they're not shallow, they're not fake. It's not simple lust. He wants Scott to love him as much as Scott loves me. And while most of the others who know think Warren just lusts for my husband, I know the truth. And so does Rogue. She knows what it's like to want to be loved.
Does Warren love Scott? Not so simple. Part of him does. Most of him is too scared to commit to so deep an emotion, especially when the cause is hopeless. And part of him hates Scott, because he thinks Scott will never love him. And part of him is jealous of Scott, for everything Scott has that Warren doesn't. And part of him, that competitive part of every man, wants to be better than Scott, to conquer Scott, be like Scott. Warren's just full of conflicting emotions, particularly when it comes to Scott Summers.
Yes, I said that Warren thinks Scott would never love him. Caught that did you, Professor? Not a slip of the tongue. I know you've been gone a while, and that's why I'm telling you this. The closer I grow to Scott, the more I unravel of him. I discover parts of him that I never knew were there before, that Scott has buried so deeply, nobody knows they're there, not even him. True, I probably already knew, and just didn't want to look, but lately, I think my eyes have been opened, and I notice everything.
The reason none of this is simple, is because part of my husband desires Warren almost as much Warren desires him. You didn't know? Well, it's not terribly obvious in Scott. And he's infinitely better at hiding emotions than Warren will ever be. He's attracted to Warren deeply.
Again, part of it is physical. I mean, every person in the history of humanity has entertained thoughts of sex with the same gender. You could be the most heterosexual person in the world, but you'll think of it. You have. I have. Even Wolverine, though he'll never admit it, has thought of it at least once in his life. And I don't need to say with who, because we both know who.
Warren is beautiful. As beautiful as any angel. He makes women's hearts skip a beat. And men are no exception. Every part of Warren, from his perfect, angelic face, to his beautiful, sculpted body demands to be lusted for. I suppose the fact that Warren's one of the only men Scott's ever entertained homosexual thoughts of is only to be expected. Warren tends to be one of the few men that winds up in male homo-erotic dreams for just about every man that ever met him.
But it's not that simple. Scott doesn't know Warren like I do, and is constantly confronted by Warren's shallow side, the side Warren wants Scott to see, almost like it's Warren's protection from being hurt. But Scott is not stupid. He suspects there's more to Warren. And he sympathizes with all Warren's been through. Part of him wants to comfort Warren like Warren wants to be comforted. My husband actually wants to be the one to shelter Warren from the storm.
But Scott thinks Warren would never have any interest in other men. Scott wonders if Warren's troubles have affected him like they would most people. Warren's conflicting nature confuses him, thusly irritating him when Warren starts acting snotty around Scott. Scott likes being needed, and being able to lend strength to others makes him stronger. Warren appeals to him in a way nobody else can. And I know Scott could easily learn to love Warren. He already loves him like a brother, anything else is just icing on the cake.
And Scott loves me. His emotions for me have never been false, or anything less than intense. He loves me, and will always be loyal to me, no matter what. But I don't need him. And I don't produce the kind of chemistry with him that Warren does. That spark of conflict and desire that men like Warren and Scott need. But I'm Scott's wife, and the woman he loves.
Scott lets Rogue take over the grill for a while and sits down next to me on the lounge chair sighing greatly. Only Warren can get to him like that, frustrate him like that. Tension knots the muscles of my husband's back, and instinctively, I massage them, trying to force him to relax. He's more wound up than the watch you wear on your wrist, Professor.
"He's such a jackass, Jean," he mutters to me darkly, glaring at Warren through his visors. Nobody can tell but me. "I can't ever do any-fucking-thing good enough for him. Lead the fucking team. Be a fucking husband to you. Run my own fucking life. Now I can't even fucking barbecue without him fucking making a fucking comment."
Scott only curses when he's *pissed*. He has so much *passion* for Warren. And he doesn't even know why.
"Seven, Scott. You just said 'fuck' seven times. That's a new record. You didn't say fuck that many times when Warren made a comment about our sex life. I had no idea that barbecuing is so important to you," I sigh. He can handle the tough stuff, but it's the petty stuff that he lets get to him, Professor.
Scott sighs, a great heave that flexes the incredible muscles of his back. It catches Warren's eye, even across the pool. Scott has his back to him. "How can you stand him, Jean? I mean, he's my teammate, and on occasion, when he doesn't act like a total prick, I'd call him a brother, but he really fucking irritates me," he snarls. Scott runs a hand through his auburn hair, ruffling the thick strands wildly.
"He doesn't treat me the same way he does you. His feelings for me are very different than his for you," I say carefully, removing my hands from my husband's shoulders. Warren is smirking from his lounge chair. He enjoys pissing Scott off. It's one of his little ways of getting revenge on Scott for being unattainable.
"Yeah, he feels he loves you, and he feels I need to drop off the face of the Earth. Don't think I haven't noticed how mean he's gotten since Betsy broke up with him," Scott sighs, relenting slightly, letting his anger pass.
Warren's gotten a bit nasty because now he's even lonelier than before. And it makes his desire for Scott so much more intense. Whenever Warren has been without some sort of relationship is when he's most combative with Scott.
"He's hurting," I say truthfully. God, why do I do this, Professor? I'm trying to make my husband feel better about the man who would casually take him away from me, if he could. Well, maybe not casually, but rather easily, I think.
"Well, I've hurt before, but I never made it a point to needle him because of it," Scott argues. He's so stubborn.
"Warren deals with pain differently, Scott. He just wants you to pay attention to him," I say casually. Then I realize what I just said.
Scott half-turns to me, a question unspoken on his face. He says nothing, because he knows that I know what his question is: What the fuck is that suppose to mean, Jean?
What the fuck am I suppose to say now?
I turn my face form him. "He needs a friend. A friend to pay close attention to him. You're suppose to be his friend, but you rarely pay him any mind," I say carefully. A half-truth.
Scott blinks beneath his visors. "Why me? Isn't that what you're suppose to be there for, Jean? You're the understanding, compassionate type," he answers me, a little flabbergasted.
"So are you."
He glances over at Warren, saying nothing. He doesn't realize that the emotion he buried so long ago, and forgot so long ago, is desire for Warren. But his sympathy and compassion stretch out, and for a moment, that desire threatens to bubble up to the surface of Scott's conscious thought. But as always, the thought is suppressed before it can even truly form. Scott doesn't even fully remember the sexual dreams he has of Warren, he represses it so much.
"I'll... talk to him later. I guess I'm acting kinda peevish about this barbecue thing, huh?" Scott relents, his anger and frustration drained, replaced by instant sympathy for Warren. Sympathy so easily formed, even easier than his for me.
"Childish was the word I was going to go for, but peevish will do. Just don't let him under your skin, Scott." Or under your sheets, I finish mentally.
Scott returns to the barbecue after kissing me, but he's not ready to deal with Warren yet, so he ignores him. Warren's being churlish now. Warren carefully suppresses his jealousy from watching our kiss, not wanting to leak that emotion out. He thinks he can hide it. From Scott, maybe, but not from me.
In all honesty, Professor, as much as I love my husband, after being married to him for a year now, I have realized that I don't need Scott. I love him. I want him. But I don't need him. And he doesn't need me. He needs to be needed. He needs to adored. I can't adore him like that.
But Warren can.
Scott would never cheat on me Professor. He loves me as much as he says he does. He'd die for me, I know he would. He loves me so much, he's fooled himself into thinking I need him, so he can pretend he's my protector, he can pretend I adore him in the way he wants to be adored. As long as we're together, Scott would never even consider Warren. Consciously.
You ask why nothing ever happened between them while I was "dead", or we weren't dating. Because even when I was "dead", part of Scott knew I was coming back. He's linked to me, remember? And Warren had Candy Southern at the time, and Scott had faded from the X-Men, and so had Warren. Bad timing.
But if I left him... If I forced Scott to realize that our relationship is quickly dead-ending, and going nowhere.... If he stops pretending that there is emotional satisfaction where there is none between us, then he might just...
And that's my dilemma, Professor. As I sit here, lying out like Warren under the sun, thinking about my dying marriage. We've lived our romance, and we've both grown up. If neither Scott or I had changed, then it wouldn't be like this. If we hadn't been through what we had, and been as strong as we both are now, then there would be no consideration of Warren.
And that's why I'm having this telepathic conversation with you from the pool, Professor, telling you a story you already know parts of. I love my husband. But do I love him enough to know when to let him go?
Go on to Part2