Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/785313. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Wolverine_and_the_X-Men, Marvel_(Comics), Young_Avengers Relationship: Quentin_Quire/Tommy_Shepherd Character: Quentin_Quire, Tommy_Shepherd Additional Tags: that_is_not_what_libraries_are_for, ninja_ships_you_didn't_even_ship until_suddenly_yOU_DID Stats: Published: 2013-05-05 Chapters: 1/? Words: 2074 ****** My Little Runaway ****** by inscarletsilence Summary So you know how Tommy isn't all that involved with the Young Avengers nowadays? What's up with that?! Anyway my_loveliest was telling me how nice it would be if he were to end up at the Jean Grey school and I was already really far down into a Quentin Quire problem and then accidentally Kidspeed happened? So naturally I wrote library porn, oh my. Notes See the end of the work for notes "I still think this is somehow your fault." Tommy shouts as he races to dump water on the still smouldering remains of what had previously been a chemistry classroom. "The fuck is it my fault? You're the one who makes things go boom, asshole!" Quentin replies, eyes screwed shut as he conjures a gooey blue substance the origins of which he doesn't want to give too much thought to put out the flames and contain the wisps of weird-smelling chemicals emitting from the slagged remains of Professor McCoy's equipment. "Uhh, yeah, on purpose. Like when I concentrate on it, and I want to? Unlike the rest of you 'Wolverine's Rejects' at this ridiculous school, I actually have the tiniest fraction of control over my mutant bullshit." Quentin knows he wouldn't be able to see the other boy even if he had his eyes open, because Tommy moves too fast to be seen, though unfortunately, not too fast to be heard. "And besides," comes Tommy's smug tone, and Quentin tries to concentrate on projecting the mental map of the school with safe escape routes highlighted into the general mental vicinity, rather than on how much he wants to wrap two hands around the speedster's throat and squeeze. "Isn't the systematic destruction of the tools of the oppressors through chaos and explosions kind of your deal, Kid Omega?" Quentin snarls and imagines a giant glob of the blue goo splattering Speed, and is rewarded with a loud yelp before all the air is driven from his lungs and an immense weight crashes into his sternum, slamming him to the ground with a jolt. His eyes fly open but before even a moment has passed the weight has lifted and he blinks into the smoky bright blue sky above him. I was just trying to make sure none of the idiots at this pathetic excuse for a 'school' got hurt because they don't know how to avoid a simple chemical fire, Quentin thinks to himself, listening to the hissing ooze of his blue goo smothering over melting plastic and singed concrete. And now I'm getting tackled by shitheads who regularly wear green bodysocks. What is my life. "Oh my stars and garters!" Professor McCoy cries, loping into the now mostly- not-on-fire classroom, a pair of welding goggles around his furry blue neck and a white lab coat hanging open over the top of his black jumpsuit. He casts about the sodden remains of the room before seemingly noticing the giant gaping hole in the external wall, through which he spots Quentin lying on his back on the grounds, looking dazed. "Quire, my boy, are you alright?" Quentin silently raises one slightly singed arm and gives Beast a thumbs up. When he can actually breathe again he is going to pull Shepherd's brain out through his nose. "It appears one of my unattended experiments has gone awry," Professor McCoy says, pulling his absurd eye glasses off and rubbing them clean on his lab coat. No shit, kitty cat, Quentin thinks, hauling himself up to a sitting position. He's brushing the dirt from his legs when a hand appears. Tommy's there, standing above him. Doing that stupid "Tommy? Who's Tommy. Name's Speed" pose he's so fond of. Quentin can't quite see the other boy's eyes behind his white hair but he can see Tommy's mocking grin, a grin that is very much not to be trusted, so he pushes Tommy's hand aside and stands up on his own. "Well done, boys, very well done. This could have been much worse than it was, had it not been for your, ahem, quick thinking." Professor McCoy places an enormous blue, clawed hand on each of their shoulders with enough force to make Quentin wince. Tommy doesn't flinch but Quentin can tell he wants to, though the speedster does roll his eyes magnificently at Professor McCoy's play on his codename. "So am I off detention for my daring heroics?" Tommy asks, his voice dripping with false sincerity. Quentin snorts, elbowing his way out of Beast's grip and brushing errant strands of pink out of his face. "That's rich, coming from the former juvie inmate who probably caus- ooof!" Quentin is interrupted by what feels like an elbow applied too-swiftly-to-be- seen to his side, and for the second time in a very short period finds himself without breath to continue speaking. Quentin glowers across at Tommy but Tommy is still gazing beatifically at Professor McCoy. "Well," the Beast mumbles, rubbing one of his gigantic paws across his furry chin, sounding speculative. "I suppose there's no point having you clean test tubes now that they're all molten slag." His ears perk up and the assistant principal smiles a toothy grin. "Yes, alright, the afternoon is yours again, to do with what you will. Do endeavour to make the most of it, Mister Shepherd." "Sure thing, Professor!" Tommy chirps, before wrapping an arm around Quentin's shoulders. "C'mon Quire, let's go." "Go?" Quentin repeats, lost. "Yeah. Wherever you were heading before you did the sidekick routine helping me put out that fire." "Sidekick?! Excuse m-" Professor McCoy's eyes narrow and Quentin realises the inherent stupidity of pointing out that if anything he would be the criminal mastermind behind such chaos, owing to his own personal brilliance and penchant for civil disobedience. "Oh. Right. Yeah. Well, I was going to eat lunch in the library?" He can practically hear Tommy rolling his eyes again but instead of calling Quentin a nerd and rushing off, Tommy nods and moves them forward, releasing his grip on Quentin's shoulder. Quentin feels strangely cold for a moment. They walk in silence, Quentin safe in the assumption that Tommy will break off once he realises that Quentin was serious about willingly entering the library. But he's putting his bag down on the table in his usual corner in the Military History section when he looks up up to find Tommy still there, poring over the books. "What the hell, Shepherd? You're not actually going to eat lunch in the library with me." Tommy grins at him. "Seems as good a place as any to hide out. I don't want to be anywhere near the chem labs once Professor Fluffy works out what actually triggered that reaction." Quentin stops in his tracks and gapes at the other boy. "It was you! You f- mrph!" Once again Quentin is interrupted but instead of a faster-than-light punch to the solar plexus, this time Tommy has clapped a hand over Quentin's mouth. Quentin sucks in a huge gasp of air and tries to hold it as long as he can. Tommy's hand is warm against his lips and he can smell chemicals and sweat on the other boy's fingers. He's abruptly very glad that Tommy's powers do not include super hearing, because he's sure the other boy would misinterpret the sudden thundering of his heartbeat. That's just his flight or fight response, reacting to what it interprets as a potential threat, right? It's not, oh fuck what are you doing, he mentally hisses at his dick, which has chosen that moment to become interested in proceedings. Tommy may not have noticed the hitch in Quentin's breath or the quickening pace of his heartbeat, but he can't miss him getting hard from his hand over Quentin's mouth. "Not so loud, Quire. We're in the library, remember?" Tommy purrs, leaning in close enough that Quentin can feel the other boy's breath on his cheek. He's still holding his breath, and Tommy still hasn't removed his hand. "Don't want us getting into any more trouble, do we?" Quentin shakes his head gently from side to side, feeling Tommy's hand move with it. He can feel the rigid outlines of books digging into the backs of his legs all the way up to his shoulders and neck but all of his focus is honed in on the firm press of Tommy's body against his own. He realises with a start that Tommy is equally as hard as he is, and his eyes go wide over the top of Tommy's hand. Tommy doesn't notice this, because he's still got his face practically pressed up against Quentin's ear. Quentin looks straight ahead and wills his voice steady, pleased when it hardly cracks at all as he says "I was just walking past, you're the one who was in detention." "Well sure, you can't have the class president getting detention. It wouldn't be," Quentin's breathing hitches again as he feels Tommy gently grind against him, "proper." All of Quentin's awareness is drawn to the damp heat of Tommy exhaling into the skin of his neck and then he feels the distinct wet slide of a tongue running along the tendon in his neck to the lobe of his ear, before Tommy gently sucks on it. Quentin shivers as he feels a delicate scrape of teeth. He's desperately trying to think of something to say other than "WHAT THE FUCK" but luckily he doesn't have to, as once he opens his mouth, Tommy slides a hand into Quentin's hair and kisses him. Quentin kisses back for a moment before his brain catches up. He pulls back into the tiny remaining space he has left between the bookshelf and Tommy and actually manages to get the words out this time. "What. The. Fuck?!" His voice is definitely less steady now. Tommy smirks and slides a finger into one of the belt loops on Quentin's shorts, pulling Quentin back flush against him. "Stop over-thinking it, big brain." It's punctuated with another slow grind of their groins together and Quentin returns it instinctively. This time, he leans in and presses their mouths together. It's hot and wet and when Tommy groans against his lips Quentin fists his hands in Tommy's shirt and gasps, pulling away again after a time. "You taste like watermelon," he says, dazed. Tommy just smiles and unbuttons Quentin's shorts, sliding his hand in and dragging his underwear aside. Quentin rushes to reciprocate but Tommy cheerfully smacks his hand away. "Not yet, baby, just you for a bit. I want us to go at the same time." The thought that Tommy's close enough that he's worried about coming already makes Quentin's dick twitch and he slides his leg in between Tommy's, rubbing remorselessly against Tommy's erection. Tommy is hard against his thigh and his mouth is attacking Quentin's neck again and Quentin throws his head back and jams his eyes shut and thrusts into Tommy's hand and tries not to think about the fact that he is getting a fucking amazing handjob in the fucking library. The thought is still so amazingly hot though, and Tommy is applying just the right amount of pressure with one hand and the other one is cupping his balls and every couple of strokes there's a thumb gently rubbing against the head of Quentin's dick. He reaches for Tommy again and this time Tommy doesn't stop him. It doesn't take much. Quentin hadn't even managed to get his hand in his pants before he's moaning into the juncture of where Tommy's neck meets his shoulder and coming messily into the other boy's hand, but Tommy is right there with him, and for a moment afterwards they just pant into each other's skin. Quentin is just becoming aware enough to realise they were probably much louder than they should have been when Tommy kisses him again, chaste this time, with no tongue and Quentin can feel his smile. Cocky but also kind of...fond? Quentin exhales sharply and a small, hysterical giggle escapes his lips. "That was fucking amazing," he breathes, becoming aware that he's going to need to change his pants some time pretty soon. "Yeah. It's pretty easy to give a good handjob when you've got 'the shit that will get me off the hardest' playing on loop on the Netflix in your brain." "Shit, what? Sorry," Quentin says. "I guess sometimes it bleeds out. When I'm...y'know. Distracted." Tommy presses against him again and Quentin starts. Is he...hard again? Already? "Allow me to demonstrate to you how very okay I am with it. Somewhere else." Tommy is definitely getting hard again. Jesus christ, speedesters. "Where there's a bed." "And maybe a change of clothes," Quentin adds, scrunching up his face as he thinks about dealing with the mess in his shorts. "Glad you finally caught up. C'mon." End Notes I've warned for underage but in my mind they're both over 18. Don't ask me why Tommy is still serving detention and Quentin is still wearing the school uniform. There are probably like, graduate courses in getting your mutant shit under control, right? Yeah. I'm sure of it. Take it up with Marvel's department of bullshit timeline management if you got a problem with it, kiddo. Also shhhh there might be more coming because apparently writing these two is like my happy place or something I dunno :) Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!