Date: Sat, 10 Jun 2006 11:05:57 -0400
From: Dusty Hansen <dustyh75@hotmail.com>
Subject: newest ultimate x man part 8

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or
you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't
be here.

2) The X-Men and any related characters are property of Marvel Comics,
trademarked and registered and copyrighted and all that. I'm using them
without permission.

For those who read the comics and worry about such things, this story takes
place in the (much simpler and easier to follow) Ultimate X-Men universe,
and starts right around issue 54. If you don't want to dig out your copy,
the team at that time is Jean Grey, Cyclops, Iceman, Kitty Pryde,
Nightcrawler, Colossus, Angel, and Dazzler.

Comments can be sent to "dustyh75@hotmail.com"

Thanks.

***

"I don't think this is a good idea," Seth said, staring at the array of
supplies piled on the bed between him and Peter.

"You said that already," Peter said, picking up the package of sewing
needles.  "Please open this for me.  I am not suited to delicate work in
this form, and will drop them."

Peter was still armored up, and he sat across from Seth on one of the beds
in their motel room, his feet on the floor because he was trying to keep too
much of his weight from settling onto the furniture.  His steel form was
very heavy, and the last thing they wanted was to attract attention to
themselves by breaking something.  Seth was sitting Indian style at the
front of the bed, carefully opening all of the supplies he had purchased.
Following Peter's instructions, Seth had purchased gauze, medical tape,
nylon thread, a large bottle of peroxide, and a packet of thick sewing
needles.  Behind him, neatly folded on a chair, was a new outfit for Peter,
since he couldn't very well travel shirtless in shredded jeans, and a pair
of new gloves for Seth sat next to it.

After the shopping they had walked to a motel Peter had located while Seth
was unconscious, and Seth had checked himself in, telling the clerk that he
had parked around the side already.  He was a little worried about the beds,
trying to figure out an excuse for why he needed two beds when there was
only one of him, but all of the rooms were doubles, and Peter had picked out
a rundown, out of the way enough motel that they hadn't asked for any
identification, either.  The clerk hadn't batted an eye when Seth signed in
as Tom Welling, but then Seth noticed in the guest book that there were
three different John Smiths and a Colin Farrel.

"Peter!  This is a hotel for hookers!" he hissed, rejoining Peter outside.
"They even asked if I wanted the room for the whole night."

"Where else are we going to stay without having to use a credit card or show
a driver's license?" Peter asked, trying to stay out of the range of the
parking lot lights as he followed Seth to their room.

"We're not getting in the beds," Seth instructed, unlocking the door.  "We
sleep on top of the blankets, all night."

The fact that the door had two chains and a deadbolt did nothing to make
Seth feel better, but Peter just patted his shoulder reassuringly as Seth
locked the door behind them.

"At least they will not miss the towels if I bleed on them," Peter said,
dumping the shopping bag out on the bed.

"If they even have towels," Seth grumbled, checking the surprisingly clean
bathroom.  Even more surprising, they actually did provide towels here, and
the room didn't really look that bad.  The two of them settled onto the bed
closer to the bathroom to get everything ready.  "You know, if you do this
in the bathroom, it'll be easier to clean up."

"Good idea," Peter said, gathering everything up.

Seth followed him into the bathroom, watching as he spread all the supplies
out on the counter.  Peter's plan was to treat himself.  He said he had
patched up enough of his former colleagues in the mafia (his pronunciation
of "mafia", like so many of his words, had a Russian twist to it, as if
there was an extra vowel or syllable) to know how to do it, but Seth was
doubtful.  It was one thing to patch up a friend, but to try to sew up your
own cuts, especially deep ones, without any pain medication seemed like a
really bad idea, even if you didn't add in the fact that Peter was
attempting to do it with medical supplies they bought at Wal-Mart.

"Peter," Seth began again, just as Peter was about to switch back to flesh.
Peter sighed.

"I know, you think this is a bad idea," Peter repeated.  "We have no other
choice, Seth.  Now please, get ready with the peroxide."

"Wait, I have an idea," Seth said, holding up his hand to stop Peter.  "I
can use my power on you."

"Your power does not heal," Peter said, blinking at him.  "Does it?"

"No," Seth agreed.  "But I think I can make you feel something else.  When
you're doing it, I mean.  You can sew yourself up and I can make it feel
like you're tickling yourself or something."

"You are certain you can do this?" Peter asked.  He hadn't wanted to ask
anything of Seth after the experience they had already had, especially
because he was still waiting for Seth to ask the question that he had
avoided raising so far.  Peter knew when it happened that it would be
terrible, but so far Seth had been too focused on the immediacy of their
situation to remember that there had been something in the house that Peter
had not wanted him to see.  When he did remember it, Peter was going to have
to tell him, but so far it hadn't come up.

"I've never used my powers for very long before," Seth began.  He remembered
what he and Scott had worked on in his room, though, the concentrating and
the feedback.  He didn't know if he could do this or not, but he owed it to
Peter to try.  "But I think I can."

"I will wait until you are ready," Peter said.  "How should we do this?"

Seth thought about it for a minute.

"You're going to need your arms free, so I can't hold either of your hands,"
he said, eyeing the tub.  "You should sit in the bathtub.  That way if you
bleed we can just rinse it away, and I can sit on the toilet and keep my
hand on your back."

"It does not matter where you touch me?" Peter asked.  They hadn't really
explored Seth's power yet, but Peter figured Seth knew better than anyone.
He also knew that, more than anything, Seth needed to build some confidence
in himself, to believe that he could do things, and the only way that would
happen was if he was given the opportunity to try.

"No," Seth answered, watching as Peter rearranged himself in the bathtub.
Seth closed his eyes, and thought about Peter feeling good.  He thought
about Peter being warm and comfortable, and he thought about that door
opening in his head, the one he had felt earlier.  Taking a deep breath, he
put his hand flat on Peter's back, feeling the steel under his palm,
marveling that it could be warm and cold at the same time.  He felt his
power flowing, but it was stopped up, not going anywhere.  Peter's metal
form could block it, something Seth hadn't considered.  "I'm ready when you
are."

Peter picked up the peroxide, twisting off the cap, and held it just above
the deep fissures in his arm, mentally preparing himself for the pain in
case Seth failed.  Inhaling, he bit down, gritting his teeth, and turned
back to flesh.  Seth jerked back on the toilet seat, biting back a scream,
but kept his hand on Peter's back.  Peter heard Seth inhale sharply.

"Are you all right?" he asked quickly, pouring the peroxide onto his arm.
He felt nothing.  He could see the cuts, and could see the blood suddenly
oozing out of them, but he felt no pain at all.

"Just fine," Seth lied.

The truth was that he was in agony.  When Peter changed back, it was all
Seth could do not to pass out, and as it was he was hanging on only by
gritting his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed, and focusing on Peter.  All
of the pain that Peter should have been feeling was now flowing into Seth,
and Seth was using his power to send nothing but numbness back through the
link.  He had thought this might happen when he suggested this, but he
didn't think that it would be this bad.  When he touched other people, Scott
or Bobby or whoever else he had used his gift on, there was an echo, but he
knew that he wasn't feeling the entirety of what they felt.  In some cases,
such as the incident with Scott the other night, the echo was strong, the
feedback he received fairly intense, but he always knew that it wasn't the
whole thing they were feeling.  If this was an echo of the pain that Peter
should have been in, he didn't even want to imagine how bad it really was.
Sweat broke out across his forehead and he clenched his other hand tightly
enough to feel the nails digging into his palm, but he kept his hand flat on
Peter's back and concentrated on the link.

Peter could hear Seth's labored breathing, his breath coming in quick,
shallow pants that fell on Peter's bare neck, and he worried that something
was wrong.  Using his power caused Peter no exertion, and required no
concentration.  There was a moment of thought when he shifted forms, but
that was it.  He knew that for other people with different powers, though,
the effects on a person could be different.  Kurt had spoken of becoming
exhausted from teleporting too many times too close together, and Kurt had
weeks and months of training in using his powers.  Seth had no training at
all, had already used his ability earlier today in a fairly intense fashion,
and had been drugged and unconscious for several hours.  The strain of this
might be too much for him.

"I believe I will only need to sew two of these," Peter said, reaching for
the supplies.  "This will be over quickly."

"No hurry," Seth panted, his eyes still squeezed shut.

Now he could feel other things, too, not just the physical sensations.
Peter was worried about him.  Peter could sense that something was wrong,
and Seth sent a wave of reassurance back through the link.  Peter was a big
guy, and fairly tough.  He could probably endure this pain if Seth took his
hand away, but then what would happen if Peter couldn't handle this?  His
body could go into shock.  He could pass out, and Seth wouldn't be of much
help.  He didn't have any first aid skills, and had no idea how he would go
about stitching up Peter's arm.  Peter had to do the stitching himself,
which meant that Seth had to bear down and suck this up for as long as that
took.

Peter felt a wave of calm spread through him.

"Seth?" he asked, still hurrying.  Seth's hand felt warm on the bare skin of
his back, but it also seemed to be trembling a little.  "Did you just use
your power on me?"

"Haven't we been doing that for the last couple minutes?" Seth asked, trying
to sound ok.  He could hear a little edge of urgency in his voice and hoped
that Peter wouldn't pick up on it.

"Yes, but I suddenly felt calm, and I do not believe that feeling was my
own," Peter answered.  He felt a curious sense of detachment, and knew that
was Seth's doing.  He could see the needle piercing his skin and the thread
slowly pulling his cuts closed, but he felt nothing.  He could have been
watching the whole thing on television, could easily have pretended that the
blood he was blotting up and the cuts he was covering with gauze an exercise
in theatrics.

"Sorry if it bothered you," Seth lied.  He wasn't at all sorry.  Even if
Peter had recognized the sense of reassurance as an outside emotion, a
feeling poured into him from Seth, it had still stopped him from worrying
about Seth.  "I thought it might help."

"You are already helping enough," Peter said gently.  He was almost
finished.  "Do not push yourself more than is necessary."

"OK," Seth sighed, still masking the pain.  It was becoming less intense as
Peter finished up, subsiding to a dull throb in his own arm accompanied by a
slight burning.  In a few moments he would be able to drop the link, and
this would be over.

Peter rinsed the cuts with peroxide again, making sure they were cleaned out
thoroughly, and then blotted at his arm again.  Sabertooth's claws had left
four cuts laddered up his arm.  The two on the outside edges weren't as
deep, and were no longer bleeding.  The two on the inside were now stitched
up, a little sloppily, but neatly enough that they stayed closed when Peter
tentatively flexed his arm.  He leaned forward, feeling a sharp kick as pain
flared up in the muscle, and knew that the link was broken.  He turned to
thank Seth and gasped as he saw him almost falling off of the toilet.

"Seth!" Peter burst, grabbing his shoulders.

Seth's shirt stuck to him, large dark patches of sweat visible, and his skin
was chalky and pale.  His eyes fluttered open, blinking at Peter, and he
offered up a weak smile.  Peter was having none of it, his face grim as he
scooped Seth up in his arms.  Seth realized his face was pressed to Peter's
bare chest, a smooth, warm, slab of muscle, as Peter carried him to the bed
but he was too exhausted to think too much about it.  Any other time he
would be drinking in the sight, but for now he just wanted to rest.  Peter
went into the bathroom and came back with a wet washcloth, blotting it
gently across Seth's forehead.

"What happened?" Peter asked, leaning in closely.  Seth had stopped
sweating, and was starting to look a little better.  Peter reached out and
tugged Seth's shirt off of him, figuring he probably wouldn't want something
clammy and sweaty against his skin, and Seth slumped back onto the bed like
a ragdoll.

"Everything you were supposed to feel," Seth whispered.  "I absorbed it.  I
felt everything."

"Why did you not say something?" Peter asked.  "You did not have to."

"I wanted to," Seth answered, closing his eyes.  He remembered feeling like
he would pass out after the time with Scott, too, and how he'd dropped after
he knocked out Kurt, Bobby, the waitress, and the guy who had tried to hit
him, knocking them all over like dominoes.  "I wanted to help you.  I need
to rest now, just for a little while."

"I will take care of you," Peter reassured him, sliding a pillow under his
head.  "You are very brave, Seth Rand."

"Thanks," Seth grinned weakly, and then passed out.

***

Seth didn't know how much time had passed when he woke up, but it was still
dark.  No light was coming in around the shades, and the room was dark as
well, none of the lights on.  Peter had apparently stripped off Seth's
shoes, socks, and pants while he was asleep, because he was lying on top of
the bed in his boxers with a blanket carefully placed over him.  He sat up
slowly, his body filled with little aches and pains from the fight earlier,
and looked around, but didn't see Peter anywhere.  The bathroom door was
cracked open, though, light spilling across the carpet, and as Seth glanced
toward it he heard a low moan.

Crap!  What if Peter was hurt in there?  He might have torn open his
homemade stitches or something.  He could be moaning in pain and in need of
help.  Seth jumped out of bed and padded barefoot across the room toward the
bathroom door.  As he got closer he could hear the shower running, and Peter
let out another moan.  Seth pushed the door open slowly with one hand and
froze in the doorway.   Peter was moaning, but he wasn't in pain.

Peter stood in the tub, the steaming shower water beating down on him.  His
eyes were closed, his head thrown back on his powerful neck, and one arm
braced him against the wall as he leaned forward.  His other arm flexed
slowly, waves rippling through the muscles, as he worked his hand up and
down his hard, soapy cock.  The shower curtain was open, flung off to the
side, so Seth could see everything, and he froze in the doorway, taking it
all in.  Peter's Adam's apple bobbed as he moaned again, and his hand seemed
to work a little faster as the water pounded down on him, sluicing down his
hard, muscled form.

Unlike Scott, Peter's body was almost completely hairless.  His chest, half
flexed and half stretched by his posture, glistened, one of the slablike
pecs gently rolling as Peter pleasured himself.  His nipples were dark red,
jutting firmly out from his chest, water dripping off of them, and below
them his abs were like a sculpture.  Like Scott's they were a ripple of
muscle, all bumps and furrows and almost an eight pack, but everything on
Peter was bigger, in proportion to his bigger body.  Everything.  Peter's
cock held Seth's attention, jutting out from his hips and a surprisingly
small triangle of dark hair.  He wondered for a second if Peter shaved, but
considering how hairless the rest of him was he was probably just naturally
mostly smooth.

Scott had a long, slender cock to match his body, but Peter's was thick,
like a club, and was at least a little longer.  Even on his large body it
looked substantial, but not freakishly so.  The head, a fat mushroom crown
that glistened in the water flow, was a dark red, a shade or two redder than
his nipples, and below it Peter's balls looked almost as big as plums,
hanging loosely in his sack.  Peter's hand worked up and down the thick
shaft, his fingers wrapped tightly around it, and every few strokes it slid
up to cup the head, eliciting another moan from Peter.  Seth's own dick was
rock hard in his boxers, tenting out the front of them.  Peter could open
his eyes and see him any second, but he couldn't move.  He couldn't stop
watching.

Peter turned, shifting, so that he could pleasure himself more fully.  He
had been watching Seth sleep for hours, watching his almost naked body as it
twisted and turned on the bed, and finally he had needed to duck into the
bathroom for some relief.  He found Seth extremely attractive, but not just
physically.  Since they had talked in Seth's room less than a day ago, even
though it seemed like weeks had gone by, Peter had found himself drawn to
Seth, and unlike the other men that Peter had been attracted to before Seth
was responsive.  He was a good person, but also a brave person, exhibiting
that inner strength that Peter had sensed before, and he had deliberately
inflicted pain on himself to help Peter.  He had sacrificed for his teammate
without a second thought for his own safety.

It didn't hurt that he was, physically, extremely attractive to Peter.
Despite his somewhat insubstantial air, he was muscular and toned, and his
pale, almost translucent skin begged to be touched.  It took all of Peter's
restraint not to do it when he had undressed Seth earlier, all his willpower
not to just run his fingertips down Seth's body to feel that soft skin that
he knew would be like velvet or the softest, most supple leather, but he
could not disrespect Seth in that way.  To flirt with him and touch him when
he was awake, as they had done on the plane, was appropriate, but to touch
him in his sleep was a violation.  Instead he had just watched, observing
the rise and fall of Seth's chest, or the way he pulled his long, toned legs
up against his body as he shifted in his sleep.  Finally it had been too
much for him, and Peter had crept into the bathroom.

Peter leaned against the back wall of the shower now, his shoulders flat
against it and the water streaming down onto his legs.  Both hands were free
now, and one continued to work on his hard prick, flogging the shaft even
faster now.  His other hand roamed over his body, sliding across the hard
muscles, teasing a nipple, rubbing his abs, reaching down to tug lightly at
his balls.  He was close, very close, and his whole body cried out for
release as he imagined that the hands sliding all over him were Seth's
rather than his own.  He ran a hand through his short hair, turning his head
to lick at his own bicep as it flexed next to him, and then started jacking
himself with both hands.  One hand slid down his shaft, gliding from the
head to the base, and then he followed it with the other, over and over,
bringing himself closer and closer.

He moaned again, opening his eyes to glance down at himself, to stare at his
own hard muscles and his thick, pulsing cock, and when he looked up he saw
that he was not alone in the bathroom.  Seth stood in the doorway, his mouth
open a little, his eyes fastened on Peter's naked, erect manhood.  Seth's
light blue eyes widened in surprise when he saw Peter's dark cobalt ones.

"Peter, I," he began, about to apologize.  Peter cut him off.

"Shhhh," he whispered, one finger to his lips.

Peter's other hand continued to stroke himself, and now he turned so that he
was facing Seth.  The shower water streamed down his side now, soaking the
muscles, coursing down from his round shoulders all the way to his bare
feet, and he stroked himself even harder.  His prick jutted out of the
shower spray, still wet, the tip dripping with water and possibly precum,
and it pointed straight at Seth.  Seth stood with one hand on the doorframe
and the other flexing absently at his side, hanging just over from the hard
cock that was leaking a small round wet spot on his boxers.  Peter saw that
spot and smiled, working himself even faster, dropping his other hand down
to cup his full, heavy balls again, feeling his hot load churning inside.

Peter had never done this in front of another man before, had never put
himself on display, but he could see how much Seth was turned on by seeing
him this way, and that was a turn on for him as well.  Seth's mouth was
still open, and as Peter watched his pink tongue darted out to wet his
bottom lip, sliding over it as he stared at Peter.  Peter flexed for him as
he stroked even harder, the moans welling up from his throat involuntary as
he got closer and closer, and he could see Seth's eyes widen as his pecs
danced.  He slid a hand upward, watching Seth watch him, and he cupped one
of his pecs, spreading his fingers across it as he caressed the muscle.
Seth licked his lips again, his hand gripping the doorframe even more
tightly.  His other hand absently rubbed at his stomach, just above the
waistband of his boxers.

Peter shivered as his palm slid over his hard nipple, and he smiled as he
caught it between his finger and his thumb, giving it a gentle squeeze.  His
hips jerked involuntarily, thrusting his cock through his fingers, straight
at Seth, and Seth swallowed as Peter groaned again.  Peter could feel his
body starting to tighten up, knowing that his orgasm was coming, and he
watched Seth.  The interplay of need and lust and something close to wonder
on Seth's face amazed him, and Seth's free hand was now caressing his own
torso, trailing up and down his own abs as he watched Peter.  As Seth
watched, Peter's fat cockhead seemed to swell even larger, and then the
long, almost liplike piss slit gaped open for a second as Peter shot a thick
rope of cum onto the bathroom floor.  He fired again and again, gasping, his
muscles all clenching together so hard that he almost doubled over, and Seth
watched the whole thing.

Peter opened his eyes, catching his breath, and took his hand off of his
sensitive cock, letting it smack back up into his abs with a loud, fleshy
thump.  He held out his hand to Seth.

"Come here," Peter said softly, their eyes still fixed on each other.

Licking his lips again, Seth walked slowly forward, still in awe of Peter's
naked form, that handsome face and all those gorgeous muscles.  Peter's hand
reached for him, palm up and fingers out, waiting for Seth to take it, but
Seth stopped just before the tub.  Still keeping his eyes locked on Peter's,
Seth bent and skinned his boxers down.  He was nothing compared to Peter.
He knew that he was well muscled, but he was thin, and his dick couldn't
compete with Peter's.  The contrast between the two of them, Peter bulky and
substantial and somehow seeming dense and thick all the way through while
Seth was long and thin and pale and almost ethereal, could not be more
apparent, and Seth was worried suddenly that Peter wouldn't want him now
that he could see the whole package, but Peter still held out his hand.

"Come here," Peter repeated, and his voice sounded completely different from
the way Scott's had.  Even though Peter was commanding him, the same way
Scott had, Peter's voice didn't have the same harsh, urgent tone.  Somehow
Peter managed to sound hopeful, as if afraid that Seth would turn away.
"Please."

Seth took Peter's hand, and Peter pulled him into the shower, gripping him
tightly as Seth gasped.  His power didn't flare up, but this time he didn't
need it to.  Peter crushed Seth's body against his, all of his muscles
rubbing and pressing and flexing against Seth.  Peter's hands curved up
Seth's back as he pulled him in close and tight, and Seth groaned, looking
up into Peter's face just in time for Peter's mouth to fasten over his.  One
hand held the back of Seth's head and the other gripped his ass tightly as
Peter kissed him, consuming him with desperate urgency as his tongue slid
into Seth's mouth.  Lower down, Seth almost came as he felt his cock rubbing
against Peter's hard thigh, and he could feel Peter's thick tube, no longer
urgent but still fairly hard, rubbing against his abs.

Just when he thought the feelings couldn't get any more intense Seth felt
Peter's hand slide from his ass around to his front, and Peter's warm, thick
fingers wrapped around Seth's cock.  Seth groaned into Peter's mouth, his
eyes closed, and Peter sucked the sound out of him, kissing him so hard that
it felt like he would leave bruises.  Seth was so worked up from watching
Peter that he immediately began thrusting into Peter's hand, his hips
jerking as he let out little urgent yelps in time to Peter's stroking.  The
water was still pounding down on them, slickening everything, increasing the
hot friction between them.

"Peter!" Seth burst as Peter's mouth left his.

Seth threw his head back, his hips working as he fucked Peter's hand, and
Peter buried his head below Seth's neck, sucking and kissing and nipping at
him.  Still pumping Seth's cock, Peter grabbed one of his legs and pulled
him up off of the floor of the shower, holding Seth's weight completely
against his body as he leaned back and let Seth ride him.  Seth wasn't
thinking about anything, lost in the feelings that Peter's hands and Peter's
mouth and Peter's body against his were creating.  Peter could tell Seth was
close, could feel how tense he was, and his face was lined with need as he
squeezed his eyes tightly closed.  Peter gave Seth's cock a last hard
squeeze, his thumb sliding hard over the nerves just below the slit where
the head met the shaft, and Seth cried out as he began to cum.

It ripped through him like an explosion, and if Peter hadn't been holding
him up Seth would have collapsed to the floor.  Cum sprayed out, splattering
Peter's abs, and Peter jammed his tongue back into Seth's mouth as he
continued jerking him.  Seth thrust against Peter, his mind blank, and felt
like he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.  His heart was pounding
and his prick was too sensitive now that he had cum, but Peter was still
working it, still stroking the shaft and caressing the head, and all Seth
could do was whimper and moan and then finally go limp as Peter finally let
him go and held him up with both hands, caressing his back and cupping the
round hard cheeks of his ass.  Pulling his mouth away again, Peter lightly
kissed the side of Seth's face, darting playfully around his ear.

"Are you all right?" Peter asked finally, still caressing Seth's back even
as he gently lowered his feet to the floor of the shower.  He reached up and
pulled the curtain closed around the tub even though it was way past time to
worry about the floor getting wet.

"I am now," Seth sighed.  He closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his
face against Peter's chest, feeling the pec swell up against his cheek like
a pillow.

"Good," Peter whispered, kissing the top of Seth's head.

***

To be continued.