Fic: The Backbone
E-mail: violet147@yahoo.com
Rating: R/NC-17.
Warnings: A bit of kinky mutant sex. Whee.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Pairings: Mystique, Magneto/St. John
Summary: The weight of the everything lies on one pair of scaly shoulders.


Mystique is one hell of an actress. She has to be, to sit as comfortably in her position as she does. She knows she has the weight of everyone’s plans and expectations sitting on her shoulders. And she knows that she has to balance it all carefully on those shoulders. She’s Erik’s only lifeline, his only backbone, really, and she works hard at balancing it all. She knows she cannot slip, not even once, because while it’s hard to balance the world on normal shoulders, it’s even harder for her because she has scales on hers.

But she does not complain, not even to herself, because that’s what losers do; whine and cry about their predicament and never find a way to rise above it all. That’s what the X-Men do; that’s what little St. John does when he thinks no one’s paying attention. He thinks he’s so smart, he thinks he’s so suave and slick and that no one knows what he’s thinking, but he’s a fool. She knows he sleeps curled up on his side as if to hide away from the world. She knows he dreams about that Drake kid, and that he cries like a baby in his sleep whenever Drake leaves his dreams, and she knows that all Drake would have to do is ask John, and John would be gone and back on their side, fighting the good fight, fighting for people who would kill him if they could get their hands on him.

But Magneto senses something, so Mystique says nothing. When it comes to the war, she respects Erik’s opinion immensely, but when it comes to matters of personal relations, he’s a moron. Erik has a very poor sense of judgment when it comes to the question of who to keep close to him. How many years did he let Xavier control him, influence his actions, hold his heart? Thank God Erik had finally wised up and realized what Xavier was doing. But now here he goes again, ready to give his heart to a little fucked up kid who cries in his sleep, and it just exasperates her, to see such a strong, immortal god willingly pulling himself down to the level of a child, and not even a special child at that, just a weak, snotty little boy.

But she keeps her mouth shut, and she just smiles and slithers when it’s needed. She cannot afford to slip, not even once, so she will do what she must to keep reins on this operation called the life she lives, and she will abolish thoughts that can put her position in peril. She will do what she must, and it’ll work, because the alternative is not an option at all. If she has to keep her mouth shut, then she will do it. If she has to nod and agree with Erik when he says John is the future, then she will do it. She will do anything, even sacrifice her own self-worth, if it means that Erik’s mind will be clear enough to focus on the war.

And although she absolutely despises having to wear John’s face while in bed with Erik, and she hates having to run John’s long fingers down Erik’s face, and she can barely stand having to wrap John’s full, pouty lips around Erik’s cock, she will do it. She’s an incredible actress; she can moan just like John, she can close her eyes and breathe heavily just like John, and she can put in a masterful performance and give Erik the pleasure and love he needs to keep him focused on what is to come. Everything sits upon her shoulders, and she will not slip. She will never allow herself to, because if she does, even just once, then everything will break, and everything will fall, and everything will have been for nothing.

She will not let the sacrifice of her dignity have been for nothing.


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