rebel rebel

Peter had no idea what was going on, there was such a mess of damage and some creepy creatures running around, making everything worse. He’d tracked one down, and followed it into an alley where with a few punches–that did nothing!!–Peter felt lost. Soon enough, the monster was on him, pinning him down and he was being bit, his yelling echoing through the alleyway. Luckily he was able to get a few webslings in, out of the area and ducking into one of the Avengers safe houses, as the venom hit. And he was in a pure heated desire, “oh my god..” he said, dropping to his knees, tugging at his clothes and whimpering because he just needed something so badly. He didn’t even realize someone else was in the safehouse.

Nathan doesn’t remember how he ended up in this house, all he knew was that he’d crashed in through a window and ended up panting against the floor when he’d crumpled to his knees. Metal fingers scrambled to tug and pull away fabric, yanking and pulling it off feverish skin as he’d fumbled through the first aid kit he found. Nothing helped with the fire in his skin or satiating the gnawing hunger growing stronger.

Two bites. Two and already he was nearly delirious.

A crash and a muffled sound of words. Someone was here, whimpering and whining loud enough that it catches hold of the more primal parts of his brain. Nathan knows he should recognize him, but all he can think about is how he’s aching to reach out and sink his teeth into pale sweaty skin.

Words might’ve slipped free, but all he can hear is his own shaking exhale and the way he’s dropping to his knees fast. It feels familiar, getting down and crawling towards another man, but he knows distantly it’s because of the venom. Metal fingers smooth along the boy’s nape, a half-growled apology on panting lips, before he’s dragging the other man in closer to kiss him hard. Tasting him helps -- licking and biting his way into his mouth and crowding in close, but Nathan is restless and aching.

Words catch in his throat and his mouth is busy biting possessive and hard at the boy’s neck. More more more, his thoughts cry out as his hands set to tugging and pulling at clothing desperately so he can touch fever hot skin. Glassy eyes flutter open, examining the pretty way those lips swell in the wake of his teeth sinking in hard. “You’re beautiful,” he hears himself breathe out on the boy’s mouth, hands spreading strong thighs and palming his cock boldly.

Lorn had no idea that Nathan was all that. He wasn’t just hot, something in him was getting Lorn the strong desire of feeling that man with his body, like something inside him was screaming the need of more touching. Maybe was the rough way of doing things, mixed with his sexiness and those lips. — … and you’re just as hot as I thought — He smirked at him while laying down to those sheets, messing them while feeling Nathan’s sexy lips in contact with his neck, there will be marks, and Lorn didn’t care, he wanted to enjoy that man at his finest, didn’t wanted to lose any movement, he wanted everything, was almost beggin for it.

Lorn was almost naked already and while both hands were touching and feeling the perfect body of that man, touching every single muscle in torso while his lips looked dry and needing another kiss, and his breaths were getting deeper and deeper. — Shit, it’s cold… it’s getting me chills! — Lorn moaned a bit with the touch of the cold metal of his fingers in his cock, giving him chills all over his body for a second, as Lorn now looked into his eyes from down. — You know I can force you to do whatever I want, right? — Cable had a metal arm, and mechanical systems inside him, Lorn could easily take control of that, but of course he wouldn’t do that, he wanted Nathan to know that everything he was doing, we wanted to do, he wanted to do with him. — I unwrap it… but I want to hear you saying what I should do next. — He said in low tune, yet getting his breathing back to normal as one of his hands started to go down his abs to his belly button, very carefully, getting that hand working to unzip his pants, Lorn didn’t wanted to use powers, as he kept in mind, he wanted to feel everything himself, every single part of Nathan.

His hand worked fast to unzip it and his fingers were already touching his cock through his boxers. — I can’t tell you just how bad I wanted you — He smirked, eye yet locked in his and finally, his fingers were touching the man’s cook, soft touches and soon he had his hand around that cock. Lorn got closer to him once again while both of them were touching each other sensitive areas, as he got closer and closer to his face, Lorn grinned, with his cheeks getting blushed — What you want to do with me? I like to hear you saying.

Nathan almost forgets his hand is colder than most are accustomed to feeling. Metal instead of skin, it was an odd sensation he knew. A scoffing breath slipped free and he looked over Lorn’s face, temper swayed by the venom coursing hot through his body. Lorn was right, he could kill him even with how the T-O virus was wound through his entire body like a disease. “I could just as easily leave you a drooling mess.”

There’s no heat to his words, just a simple comment, a reminder that just enough pressure upon his mind and Nathan could work him like a marionette. “Rather bossy,” he murmurs, fingers gripping Lorn’s chin and dragging him up into a hard kiss once more. Licking his way past those lips he sighs and settles closer, humming his pleasure when he feels Lorn’s hands.

“Never knew.”

A simple confession. Nathan never knew when people wanted him, flirted with him. He was so accustomed to living each day with the singular intent of surviving to see the next one. Fingers smooth through dark green hair, his metal fingers curling just a little firmer around Lorn’s cock. “I could show you.” Another stroke, slower and more purposeful as his powers ease past the barriers of Lorn’s mind. Kissing him, he shows him the extent of his hunger.

Nathan shows him how they would look like fucking upon every inch of the house. He shows Lorn himself down on his knees mouth swollen and begging for his cum. But at the forefront is the image of Lorn begging sweetly for his cock, fingers buried deeply inside himself until he can use his fingers to tug himself open to gaping wide. A shaking breath flutters on the other man’s mouth as he looks over Lorn’s face, easing out of his mind.

“Isn’t it enough that I want you?”

Richard maybe should have used better words, or a better tact, for an after kissing your brother moment, as he witnessed Nathan start to freak out and react to what had just happened. And he couldn’t blame him, Richard had his own internal freak out, but that didn’t seem to phase him as badly.

“They would likely freak out, double, it’s kind of a really weird slippery slope with them,” he said, watching as he got up and he sighed, wanting to make Nathan feel better and he wanted to show that if he was a freak, he at least wasn’t alone as one. “Don’t apologise,” he said, and reached over for his brother’s shirt, and pulled him closer.

This wasn’t as chaste, or shy. Richard was kissing Nathan heavily, tongue against tongue and pulling him in closer, body pressed against his. “Don’t.” He said, “don’t be sorry about this ever, we only have each other.”

Why not? This is wrong isn’t it? Nathan feels the words on his tongue before he tastes Richard’s tongue instead. There are fingers in his shirt and his brother’s words on his mind. Don’t apologize. Nathan can’t think over his heartbeat hammering and Richard’s thoughts warm in the back of his mind. There wasn’t exactly revulsion like he’d been expecting. In an abstract sort of way it made sense in Nathan’s head, it’d always just been the two of them at any time in their lives.

Then they don’t need to know. It’s just us.

Nathan’s hands settle at his brother’s waist, smoothing along his hips to drag him closer. A shaking breath is lost on Richard’s mouth as he chases down those lips hungrily. It’s like he hasn’t had food in weeks and every part of him is shaking, desperate for just a taste. Metal fingers tread carefully along his brother’s spine, feeling new territory upon familiar flesh as he swallows Richard’s breath as his own. Crowding in closer, he’s got his hands on the other man’s ass and his mouth trailing wet, biting down the curve of his brother’s throat.

Jesus it feels like I’ve dreamt this before. The way you feel and taste. Forcing Richard back on to the couch, this time he’s only hesitating a moment before sinking down onto his brother’s lap with his arms around his shoulders. Thighs frame Richard’s hips and Nathan pauses just for a moment to swallow hard, to chase down the worry of wondering what might happen if their parents knew--

“Show me.”

Nathan licks his lips, reaching down to tug his shirt off slowly and toss it aside to the ground. Fingers tug Richard’s belt, loosening it and yanking it free. “I want you to show me what it’s like, how you feel.” Brows furrow and he thinks briefly of Wade, of the chaotic feelings Nathan thinks is what love is supposed to be -- real passionate love. But he remembers the husbands, the lovers, the people who Wade can get closer to than with him, the flicker of a presence that was never there. But Richard, his brother, he was constant and as every changing as him.

Nathan leans down, catching warm lips and carding his fingers through fiery red hair. There’s nothing he hides in his mind, nothing that’s kept away as he kisses Richard harder, hungrier.

With his blade gone, the asset felt more vulnerable. He had learned that this place housed strange people, people with abilities he didn’t understand. There had been none of them in his time before, at least, none of whom he was allowed to retain memory. His arm would be enough of a weapon on its own should he need it, but the man inside didn’t want to fight. He wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted, but more violence wasn’t it. 

The asset stared back at the man, mind turning the questions over slowly. Words in several languages flicked through his brain, some with meaning, some nonsense, and for a few moments, he forgot which words belonged in this time and country. The weapon’s mouth opened but no sound came. Instead, he wondered if he could reach his knife fast enough to get away or if it would be more beneficial to him to just leave and find a new blade. However, like a child, the asset had so few things that belonged to him that he wanted to keep it even if pragmatism told him a new knife would be just as effective. 

He shook his head, long hair falling over his face. “There are no targets here.” The voice that finally answered was cracked and dry as gravel. No mission told him to come. Target down. Extraction in four hours. Fuck, Anderson! Get the fire going! Soldier, move out. “I have no mission.” The asset felt wrong, useless. His last mission had been to murder the blonde man on the bridge and he had failed. Why had they not decommissioned him? They would come someday, to give him a new task or put him in the cold again. 

Find himself? Abstract thought was not a skill the weapon knew. “I am here,” he answered, eyes shifting from blank to confused to something close to hope as the man inside tried to wrest control away from the asset. A headache flared, sharp and hard, like needles stabbing deep into his brain. “Why would someone here help me?” He was a monster, dangerous and rabid without orders or direction. At the very least, some called him a war criminal. What would this school full of heroes do aside from kill him or turn him in? 

@warbornmessiah​

Words prompt reactions, memories. Nathan typically refrained from other’s minds but there was something more, something beyond, that had him reaching out without hesitation this time. Words spoken are disregarded as he sees it, sees a myriad of faceless figures and words in fractured languages. Phrases known and unknown as if the man before him were struggling to find solid ground to build upon, to balance himself.

Target down. Extraction in four hours. Fuck, Anderson! Get the fire going! Soldier, move out. Gunfire echoes in his ears, swallowing the words that come out. Nathan can see the snow on his hands, the weight of the gun and the bridge in the far distance. An assassin? But the thoughts are jagged, incomplete like a film reel snapped and disconnected. He takes another step forward, cautious and curious all at once as he keeps his gaze trained upon the other man.

“Because this is a school, sanctuary. We help people here, lost people who have no home. People with special abilities and occasionally those without.” The textbook answer is easy to give, his mind feeling something else in the man’s mind. It feels like something inside pounding on the scars aching to break free. Thoughts of monster, dangerous, rabid, criminal float disconnected to the surface loudly as Nathan reaches out with his powers.

“Because I think everyone deserves a chance to be saved.”

It’s startlingly easy to ease back the scars, to let out the struggling thoughts. Nathan can hear him clearer, louder, over the muted almost simplified memories. Reaching out this time with his hand, metal fingers touch the other man’s shoulder and he examines the tired face before him. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, coaxing that fighting spirit inside to the surface and holding back the old wounds.

“You’re safe James.”

Richard is just giving him a smile, trying to do his best at giving the other man some kind of affection, attention, whatever it was that his big/lil brother needed–the timeline was still so messed up–and he was taken back by surprise when there was a hand touching him, his jaw, and he was being led in. Looking a little confused at first, he was surprised the moment he felt lips against his own and Nathan was kissing him.

He didn’t know what to think except for a mixture of what the heck and finally because it felt both foreign, yet natural, and the young red head couldn’t help but lean in and deepen the kiss almost instantly and pulled him in closer, not stopping until he was breathless and had to pull back.

And just look in his brother’s eyes.

“Well this is something way more awkward to tell our parents..” he said, breaking the awkward moment with a rather hefty ice pick. 

For one breathless moment it feels like a relief, chasing those lips and nearly sighing when he feels Richard returning the kiss. His thoughts are just as jumbled as his brother’s and Nathan can’t help but sigh into the warmth of his mouth at the comfort of his mind, his touch. At least until that moment is pulled taut, strung out between them where there’s too much space and his heart catches in his throat.

Nathan can’t look away from his brother’s eyes.

Until Richard talks, until reality comes slamming back down.

“Shit our parents--” Nathan feels guilt and shame mixing hotly with aching need at the pit of his belly. It nearly makes him dizzy fighting between wanting to kiss him again and wanting to forget. “And we-- If they--” Words catch in his throat, his mouth coming to cover his mouth as he finally looks away. If they knew what kind of freak I am, what would they think?

A shaking breath and his face heats up, hands instead setting to clumsily dislodging them from each other as he gets to his feet and reaches for words. Wading through a see of internal conflict, of guilt, of ingrained shame, not once does he feel regret. Nathan doesn’t mention it, he’s struggling enough to speak.

Joaquin was patrolling under the blue sky instead of at night along with his confidant Redwing. The two were making doing silly tricks before getting serious to spot some trouble. At one point he saw someone, who even at a closer look, he could not make up. He stopped and sent Redwing down to take even a closer look, being carefully about it like Captain America always told him.  he made sure to fly down with confidence and with willingness to act once his partner let him know it was safe, and that assistance was truly needed,

“Hey, you need any help?” He asked as he landed, flapping his wings gracefully. There was no action from the man so he walked closer and put his hand on his shoulder. That was a mistake because soon then a gun was pointed at him and Joaquin raised his hands. “Woah there, calm down. I’m here to help!”

@warbornmessiah​

Fluttering wings are what has him keeping his gun unholstered but then he spots a familiar creature in the sky. While the man before him may be different than he remembers, Nathan knows he’s reliable. Trust worthy. It’s then he holsters his weapon and gives the kid a brief once over.

Something lurches uncomfortable in his chest.

Too young.

Nathan can still remember holding a rifle when he was seven and he’d been too tired to use his powers to defend himself. He’d forgotten that even in the past, the heroes he would encounter were too young to know the dangers that waited for them.

“Falcon right?” A gesture towards Redwing and he gives the trail of carnage one last look with a note of frustration. “It isn’t safe being grounded right now, whatever that...thing was, I get the feeling it’ll be back and you don’t want it catching your scent.” Nathan is pulling free the spare handgun from the small of his back, checking the clip and the round still in the chamber.

Flicking the safety on, he hands it to the other man.

“Yeah, no fucking shit it’s not safe,” MJ said, and Christ he sounded like a total asshole, but it was hard to be fucking polite when one guy had been dragged off who knows where, and the guy in front of him was covered in blood. He’d seen shit before. Hell, he lived in the city. He knew that violence happened. 

But this wasn’t just random street violence. This was shit to the level he’d never even seen before. 

And so if he was terrified and grabbed onto the first living human he’d seen, well, call it a personal problem. His other hand was balled into a fist, surely digging crescent moons into his palm, and usually that kept him grounded but today he was shaken too much for it to even have the mildest of effects. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

How would the random guy on the street know? MJ was just lucky that he was there instead of in front of the guy. If fate had been a bit more of a bitch, he could’ve been toast right now. It wasn’t a thing of smarts, there would’ve been nothing he could’ve done. It was just pure dumb luck, and that was maybe what was so scary about it. He wasn’t prepared. Not for anything like this. 

“Some kind of animal.”

It was the best answer Nathan had to offer, there’s nothing else to go on given what he saw skittering around quickly. Even the blood patterns on the ground don’t make sense in his head. Like the man had been ripped apart from behind and then outward. Holstering his gun, he’s glancing around and hears sirens beginning to sound a few blocks away. “Shit,” he hisses out under his breath and looks down at his clothes.

Anyone who saw him would think he’d been the one responsible.

So he’s grabbing the other man by the hand, dragging him along while he trades bloodied clothes for clean ones from street vendors they pass. Once they can blend in, Nathan is tugging the other man into a pizza parlor and all but shoving his unlikely companion in before dropping down beside him.

“I’ve got a feeling neither of us are gonna be safe from whatever those things are,” he’s saying, watching the pre-made slices rotating slowly, “so it might be better to stick together.” A metal hand is offered and he looks at the man he’s all but kidnapped.

At the end of the day, nothing would suit him better than some light clothes and a moment flying by the school. Lorn was just standing maybe ten feet out of the ground and with both eyes closed for a while, just getting some fresh air and relaxing while taking care of his own mind. He wasn’t fully under control of his mind and that could always be dangerous so he needed those quiet moments, and when finally he felt like it was enough, his eyes were open again, revealing that bright green color, while around him some sweat energy looked like coming out of his body, taking him back to the ground but passing him through a window and landing at the hallway, where a familiar voice called him out — Yeah, I guess I’m too old for school. — He grinned calmly and crossed both arms comfortably, walking towards the other — And you’re wet… also with some sunburns on the cheeks, by the way. Looks like someone was having fun with those kids here, huh? — He sighed — I never imagined you would be the kind of guy that looked after kids, Summers.

It was a while since he’d seen Lorn in this timeline and he remembers the countless possibilities that had run through his mind. One where Lorn followed his father’s steps, one where he lost his powers, another where he never survived M-Day. Nathan finishes drying off and chuckles briefly, focusing his thoughts on the here and now. Giving a shake of his head, he glances at Lorn and tosses aside the towel.

“What can I say, my brother blackmailed me into playing nanny.”

Stepping closer, he reaches just to the right of Lorn and grabs a dry shirt before tugging it on. “He never said I couldn’t take them outside and put water balloons to use preoccupying them.” The mention of sunburns has him touching one of his flushed cheeks with his metal fingers to gauge the damage. 

“It’ll heal.”

He had been to the school once, flown there by someone strange. The asset, however, hadn’t gotten to explore much of the grounds on his previous visit. Making his way back had been simple enough for the assassin. He watched the children play, watched them run and laugh with the infinite patience only capable of a machine. None of them were targets so they were unimportant. What mattered was the building itself.

Night fell and still the asset remained in place. He would only move when the occupants had gone to bed. Windows grew dim and when he could see no more light, he silently moved from his hiding spot. Slipping into the school was only a matter of using one of the dozen or so infiltration plans he had devised while watching the students.

The weapon passed by sleeping students, glancing into rooms to better understand their layout. Eliminate the children. Acceptable losses. Use the wire. Soldier, what’s your status? Garrote wire around a six year old’s neck. The asset groaned, head throbbing and he stumbled. They would be angry at him for making noise. Fear and flooding memories only made him grow sloppy to the point that he stepped on a loose floorboard, causing a creak.

Spinning around, he let his switchblade slip into his flesh hand, silver metal glinting in the moonlight. A creature somewhere between man and machine stared back at the other with dead eyes. “Who are you?”

@warbornmessiah​

It feels a bit like looking at a ghost.

There is a man inside the mansion but Nathan can’t quite make out the jumble of words running through his mind. He isn’t concerned, no, he can feel the weight of the switchblade as if it were in his own hands. This man, James Barnes if he remembers correctly, is a fractured whole and his mind is easy to take with his powers. For now all he does is observe, flexing his own metal hand experimentally.

“I should be asking you that.”

Old wounds scar the man’s mind, like someone had gone in with a scalpel over and over and over until conditioning took hold. Nathan could remove it sure, but it’d be difficult to heal. Especially if the man was planning on harming the students under his protection. Tugging on his shirt, he turns to face the soldier, walking barefoot towards him and motioning briefly with his hand.

The blade is sent flying into the wall, harmless now and out of reach.

It’s strangely exhilerating kissing Lorn like this, swallowing down the words greedily and chasing them with his teeth. Catching the man’s lower lip between his teeth there’s a calm high that has him yielding into those hands. Lorn is saying something and he’s only half listening with mild frustration. A fleeting thought of how Maximoffs talked too much wars with the thought that Lorn wasn’t really one and the fact that little details don’t matter when touching, being touched, settles the ache just a little.

“You talk too much,” he half growls on Lorn’s mouth, throwing aside his own shirt carelessly. Nathan bends, grabbing the other man’s thighs and lifting him up and carrying him a fumbling distance before the world twists and warps around them.

His apartment is stuffy but familiar and the teleporter whines low before he tosses it aside from his pocket.

A breathless moment and the light fades, it’s easier to let gravity do the rest. Nathan drops Lorn on his sheets, tugging Lorn’s belt open and yanking it loose. “...you’re prettier than I thought.” Nathan doesn’t have the reserve or caution to be mortified by his blunt words. Later, perhaps he will, but for now he’s settling between Lorn’s thighs and leaving a trail of dark bruises along his neck.

“Beautiful even.”

Metal fingers shove down denim, smoothing along warm skin and boldly palming Lorn’s cock. Nathan lets out a breathless sort of chuckle and whispers hotly at the other man’s ear, “Even down here, you’re pretty.” It’s the best apology he can offer before his telekinesis flares to life and Lorn’s jeans are ripped apart in seconds with a flurry of denim.

Nathan sits back, appreciating the view and idly stroking the pretty curve of Lorn’s cock caught in his metal hand. Hazily he wonders if he’ll remember this, the way the other man looks spread out like a beautiful patch of snow waiting to be soiled by his hungry hands.

Usually he’d be a bit more reluctant to talk about things like sex or getting intimate. Things like that didn’t come naturally to him and it’d been a struggle. Wade had been the first he’d been honest with, the one he’d opened up to and dragged into bed with meaning more than a base need to ensure his bloodline carried on.

The guy seems nice, his mind feels fuzzy and there’s a gut feeling like he ought to back away. Instead there’s a freeing sort of delirium the moment before he closes the distance between them.

Fingers snare the other man’s nape, dragging him in, crushing their lips together hard and fumbling with fabric. For a moment Nathan has a crazed thought of wondering if this was how Wade felt, only half in control all the time. Nathan is almost ripping off the other man’s shirt when he crowds in close, kisses him again and nearly sighs on his mouth.

Which -- isn’t much.

It doesn’t feel like a strategic attack when he chases down the strange beasts roaming around the town. His telekinesis works to an extent, but there’s something in them that vanishes like they’re shifting constantly. After three days the most he has so far is that the monsters don’t like light.

Another shot and he pauses to catch his breath, watching the creature slip away before he can reach out to pull it free. Sharp pain aches in his side, glancing down he can see where the beast sunk it’s teeth in and at first doesn’t think anything much about it. Animals bit things, that was in their nature. But then it’s like the world is dialed up to eleven and his gun slips out of his hands when he goes to take another step.

“...what the f--”