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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
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1/1
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4
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Reckless

Summary:

Scott loosens up a bit. Evolution verse.

Work Text:

Reckless
Nari

 

He sighed to himself. God, why did he let Jean talk him into these things? Because he'd never be able to refuse her. Would he jump off a bridge if she were to ask him to? Probably. That's how deep he was in. Then again, throwing himself headfirst off a bridge would be far preferable to this.

He realized that he'd been standing, unmoving, next to his car door. Another sigh and he stepped through the fairly crowded parking area, towards the large mansion. If his feet dragged a bit, it certainly wasn't because he wanted to turn around and go back to the Professor's mansion. Really.

All too soon and he was at the door. He shook the reluctance off and slipped on the confidence that he could wear perfectly in situations like this. In other words, situations that he didn't want to have anything to do with. Stealing himself for what, or who, he might see inside he opened the door.

Only to see an empty room. Huh.

Shrugging he stepped in, walked to the middle of the room. Maybe Jean had gotten it wrong and there was nothing going on tonight. In which case he was going to feel like an idiot but it would be worth it if it meant he didn't have to hang out with Duncan. Then he heard voices from down the hall. Strange, usually the party was held here in the main front room. With a slight frown he followed the voices down a hallway and to one of the smaller, although still substantial, rooms.

The door was opened so he poked his head in to look around. Here was the crowd of people he had been seeking. All bunched around a TV, laughing loudly. He didn't see any sign of Jean so wandered over to the group.

Once he had managed to push his way to the couch he finally realized what was going on. Shot glasses lined the table and those sitting on the couch were clearly in the beginnings of a drinking contest.

It was definitely time that he got out of here. He still didn't see Jean, though, and he wasn't about to leave without her. Nor was he going to leave even if she wasn't here on the chance that she might show up.

Moving along behind the couch, a couple people having to move unhappily out of his way, he made his way to where the reason for all this insanity was sitting. Duncan. Scott tapped Duncan's shoulder to get his attention. Duncan looked none to pleased when he turned his head and saw who was standing there.

"What's up, Summers?" he growled.

Scott ignored the venom in his tone. "Is Jean around?"

"Not yet."

Scott frowned. He'd stay until Jean got here then make her leave with him.

He watched as those seated on the couch each took another shot. Judging by the empty glasses they'd each already had a couple. More than enough for lightweights, which they undoubtedly were, to get, at the very least, tipsy. This was proven when Duncan picked up another shot glass and waved it, supposedly temptingly, at Scott. Scott raised an eyebrow.

"Think you got what it takes, Summers?"

"I don't think so." Said in a tone that brooked no arguments. Not that Duncan ever actually listened to him.

"Not that you'd ever have a hope in hell of beating me."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Give it up, Duncan; I'm not drinking with you."

"Pity. Would have been interesting to see if you were even capable of getting that stick out of your ass and actually unwinding."

God how he hated hearing that. He wasn't an idiot, contrary to what most people seemed to believe. He knew what people, even his apparent friends, said about him. To have it stated so bluntly in front of his face, and then having to listen to the people around him snicker and make other similar comments, galled him. His day had already been bad enough. He didn't need this.

With a fierce scowl, he grabbed the shot glass out of a surprised Duncan's hand and slammed it back. Instantly doubled forward coughing. Hardly the impression he'd meant to make. It got the message through though. Someone clapped him on the back and told him to breath. Those on the couch shuffled over to make room and he took a seat next to Duncan.
Duncan grinned and held out two shot glasses to him, presumably so that he could catch up with the others. He took one of them and knocked it back as well. Managed to keep the coughing to a minimum. The third one went the way of the other two and by then he had the knack for it. He grimaced at the burn but didn't attempt to hack up a lung.

The others picked up another glass from the table. He took a deep breath and did the same, the movement making him realize that he already wasn't feeling overly great. This was just great, with his metabolism which, like Kurt's, was faster than a normal humans, he was going to be wasted in no time. Was, in fact, already more than halfway there. But the least he could do was put on a good show. He took the fourth shot along with the others. Grimaced and barely managed to keep it down, God this stuff was terrible.

He turned his head to glance at the others and swore the world tripped around him. Funny since he was sitting down at the time. A broad hand was on his back, steadying him and he felt thankful for it. There was laughter in his ear; come to think of it there was laughter all around him.

"Falling out already, Summers?"

He shook his head, negative, and instantly regretted it. Another hand was on his shoulder and pushing him back against the couch. Good thing because he was sure that otherwise he would have managed to topple of the couch. Not that he believed Duncan was looking out for his well-being. More than likely he just wanted to make sure that Scott didn't upset the shot glasses if he fell. A bark of laughter and Duncan clapped him on the shoulder. The world swam for a moment.

"...Please, don't do that." Or he was going to be making a run for the bathroom. Yet more laughter and another shot glass was shoved into his hand. He assumed he was meant to drink it so he did. Watched as the others did the same. They all seemed to be handling it fine. The whole -I'll show them a thing or two' idea, really didn't seem to be going all that well. He shrugged, ah well.

A moment later and he noticed Duncan was watching him, probably saying something. "What?"

Duncan rolled his eyes and seemed to tip to one side a bit at the action. Of course it could have just been Scott that was tipping. "I was asking if you were going to be sick, Summers."

And, apparently, it was him that was tipping because that hand was back on his shoulder and holding him upright. Scott glared and shrugged the hand off. "I'm fine. And quit calling me that."

Duncan shook his head as he turned away. He actually did sway that time. Ha, Scott wasn't the only drunk one around here. God, the Professor was going to kill him. He let his head flop onto the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Less than a minute later and Duncan was nudging his arm.

"You out?"

He didn't raise his head. "No." As he reached a hand out for the next glass. He was just raising it to his lips, or making a valiant attempt to at least, when something shrieked at him from the doorway.

"Scott, what do you think you're doing?"

He yelped and practically tossed the shot glass away from him in an effort to get rid of the evidence, glancing fearfully over to where Jean stood glaring at him. Then there was a thunk and the sound of Duncan cursing. He couldn't quite stifle the chuckle that wanted to escape.

Jean didn't seem to think it was so amusing. She stood by the door and tapped her foot, ready to rip someone's head off. Probably Scott's. He cleared his throat and tried to think. What was the question?

"Yes." It seemed like a good answer. Never disagree with Jean; therefore the answer had to be yes. Only apparently not because she just scowled more. "Uh..."

"I can't believe you. How much have you had to drink?"

He blinked at her a moment, then glanced down at the table laden with shot glasses. "Not much."

She looked as though she didn't believe. Scott couldn't really blame her. Much to his relief though, her attention shifted to Duncan. Scott could practically feel Duncan straighten up a bit from behind him.

"And you," she started, "I can't believe you could be so irresponsible as to start this."

Scott raised a hand slightly and spoke up. "I can." Duncan thumped him on the back of the head. Jean's attention went right back to him and made Scott wish that he hadn't said a word. "Um..."

"I can't believe this. Both of you!" Her voice raised an octave. Scott winced slightly, now she was really mad. Probably best to start on damage control now.

"Jean, wait, it's-" was as far as he got before he tried to stand up and the floor came up and smacked him in the forehead. That or he had tripped. He really doubted his plea of -I'm not drunk' was going to stand up now. Maybe if he laid here and pretended to pass out he'd be able to avoid her wrath for now.

No such luck of that happening though as he could feel someone start to kick his leg. With a glower he turned his head enough so he could see Duncan. Who looked at him innocently, if such a thing were even possible. Ignoring him as best he could he tried to look placatingly up at Jean who was standing over him angrily.

As he pushed himself back to his feet figuring it would be easier to stand up to Jean if he were looking down at her. More wishful thinking. He finally noticed how silent everyone else had become. They were probably all waiting for her to slap him. The way things were going she probably would.

"...Jean-" he started but was abruptly cut off.

"I don't want to hear it, Scott. I can't believe you of all people would act like this. You're supposed to be more-" It was his turn to cut off her angry tirade with one of his own.

"I'm supposed to be more what, Jean? More responsible, more sensible, more uptight?"

"More intelligent."

He rolled his eyes. "Why should I have to be the one that's got to do everything right, every single time? Why should I be the one that's supposedly got a rod shoved perpetually up his ass?" Duncan snickered from behind him.

"Scott!"

"Forget it, Jean. I'm sick of it."

"You're acting like a child throwing a tantrum. This isn't the way to go about changing things." She shook her head in disappointment. "I would have expected more from you than this, Scott. When you come to your senses...just stay away from me."

She turned and walked away, out of the room. Instead of going after her, Scott watched her leave, still angry but feeling the first stirrings of shame. Duncan, though, was already hot on her heals, very nearly begging forgiveness. Scott wished him luck if only because he knew there was none to be had.

Ignoring the others that figured the excitement was over, all highly upset that no one was injured Scott suspected, he turned and headed out onto the balcony only swaying a bit. Once outside he leaned against the railing, looking out over the pool and the yard.

Of course everyone expected him to be more or do more. Didn't they ever think that maybe they were expecting too much? How was he supposed to hold it together when everyone was demanding more than he could give? The Professor expected him to show perfect control, the team expected him to be an infallible leader; Jean just wanted him to be some kind of perfect gentleman. No one could do or be all that at every moment.

With a sigh he dropped his head into his hands wishing he could bring back the joviality from only a short time ago. Maybe if he threw himself back into the drinking contest but he didn't particularly feel like joining the crowd anymore. Any chance he had had with Jean had pretty much just gone down the drain. He crushed the fleeting relief that came with the thought that at least there was one less person he had to try so hard with.

Like Duncan, who's heavy tread he could hear approaching him from across the balcony now. Duncan he didn't have to try with. Didn't have to be absolutely perfect. Of course there was their rather petty rivalry and always trying to best the other. But it didn't have anything to do with Duncan himself. They battled to show who was best to impress Jean. Rivalry over a girl that Scott was quite sure wouldn't have anything to do with either of them after tonight. Maybe they could even get along now.

Duncan stood beside him now, leaning against the railing as well. "How you doin', rod-boy?"

With a roll of his eyes, Scott retracted his last thought. God, how he hated this guy. "Get lost, Duncan." With that he turned and began to walk away, not really know where he was heading but not wanting to deal with Duncan's attitude.

Duncan grabbed hold of his arm before he could get more than two steps, practically spinning Scott back to face him. Again the world tripped and Scott found himself completely off balance and falling forward. Instead of hitting the ground this time he was caught by strong arms that hoisted him back to his feet. He glanced at Duncan, who still had hands on his arms to make sure he was steady, before shrugging him off and standing on his own, if a little awkwardly.

"You okay, Summers?" He sounded a little smug. Over what, Scott had no idea. He only nodded in reply, not feeling up to talking at the moment. He was never going to understand why people insisted on doing this for pleasure. "Never figured you for such a klutz."

He practically sneered. "Screw off, Duncan." Hands placed firmly on Duncan's chest Scott gave him a hard shove, intending to get him to back off. Duncan did stumble back, being less than sober himself. The unexpected side effect was that Scott went with him having put too much weight into the shove and then suddenly losing the support.

He fell forward against Duncan, who - having already been knocked off balance - crashed the rest of the way to the floor. Scott went down with him and they ended up in an ungainly heap on the ground. Head pillowed quite comfortably on Duncan's chest, he really didn't see any reason to move. The alcohol seemed to hit him in a rush and he wanted nothing more than to stay in this position for the night and pass out. Duncan didn't seem to be protesting as he stayed on his back the way he had fallen.

A moment later Duncan still hadn't made any move to shove Scott off and Scott began to get a little worried. He shifted until he was looking down at Duncan's face in concern.

"...Duncan? Are you okay?"

Duncan's eyes snapped open rather abruptly -causing Scott to cry out in surprise and Duncan to jerk his head back with a crack into the floor. Scott cringed at the noise. Duncan groaned slightly.

"Well, I'm not okay now, Summers."

Scott tried his best to look repentant. "Oops."

Duncan just looked at him for a moment, clearly not impressed. Then he smirked slightly. Scott raised an eyebrow, that couldn't be a good look. "You comfortable, Summers?"

"What are you talking about?" Duncan twisted slightly under him with a just this side of manic grin. "Oh. Right." Suddenly Scott was perhaps a little too comfortable. Friction with Duncan. A whole new type of friction with Duncan. God that was so wrong. It had to happen again. He dropped his forehead to Duncan's shoulder and closed his eyes, waiting for the momentary feeling to go away.

Duncan raised a hand to run down his back, resting it so his fingers were lightly splayed over the swell of his buttocks. Well, this certainly wasn't helping to make things go away. He thought briefly about protesting or maybe just shoving himself away from Duncan, after all it didn't exactly seem proper that he was sprawled on the balcony floor with the guy that was supposed to be his mortal enemy. Or something.

He didn't have the chance to do much of anything though because the next thing he knew he had been flipped over onto his back and Duncan was looming over him, his weight pressing him to the floor. He waited a moment for the room to stop spinning, eyes shut.

Once the room felt steadier he let his eyes slip open again, lifting his head and looking up at Duncan who was looking down at him. An instant later he got an idea and grinned at Duncan as he twisted under him. Sweet revenge. Which backfired on him the moment he did it since it felt just as good to him as to Duncan. He groaned, felt Duncan do likewise, and dropped his head back to the floor, closing his eyes again.

This was feeling far too good. Then Duncan shifted, sliding his thigh between Scott's, and things felt even better. Duncan obviously thought so as well because he started a slow rocking, almost grinding against Scott's leg. He practically growled his frustration and hooked a leg behind Duncan's, pulling it a bit tighter to himself and rocking to Duncan's motion.

A moment more of mindless pleasure and Scott got the sudden clarity that this was wrong. The voice of reason that had kept him safe for so long seemed to finally break through the alcohol and pleasure induced haze to ring warning bells and tell him to stop. He opened his eyes and forced himself to still.

"Duncan... Wait..." He couldn't help but gasp it out at the feeling of Duncan continuing to ride his leg. Duncan didn't stop though. Instead he dropped his head to Scott's neck and fastened his teeth there, hard enough that it would surely mark. He all but arched against Duncan at that, hips resuming their rocking with more fervor than before. Apparently his body had no intentions of listening to his minds demand to stop.

"We have to...get to a room..." He still felt the need to at least attempt some type of sanity. Lord knew who might walk out onto the balcony, or who already had. Duncan loosed his teeth from Scott's neck so he could speak.

"Just shut up and enjoy it, Summers," he breathed, in a voice that was as strained at Scott's.

"But..." he was very effectively cut off by Duncan's mouth over his, tongue sweeping in as he gasped in surprise. Coherent thought seemed to flee and he moaned.

Shut up, - loosen up - and enjoy it. That was something he could do. For one night at any rate.