My dick could cut glass right now.
I stumble out of Emma's office with my jacket strategically draped over my arm, positioned just right to hide the raging hard-on that's currently making my uniform pants feel two sizes too small. Jesus Christ, that woman is psychological warfare wrapped in white lingerie. The memory of her breasts is burned into my retinas like I stared at the sun too long, except the sun was made of tits and I definitely stared too long.
"I should have grabbed them," I mutter under my breath, adjusting my makeshift cover-up as I power-walk down the hallway.
I need to find Katrina. Like, immediately. Her religious loophole is exactly what I need right now before I lose my mind completely. But the mansion is huge, and she could be anywhere, teaching a class, in the Danger Room, teleporting to Germany for all I know.
I round the corner and nearly trip over my own feet when I spot them. Five identical blonde girls, standing in perfect formation like some creepy children of the corn situation. Each one has Emma's ice-blue eyes and platinum blonde hair, though they look younger, maybe eighteen or nineteen. They're all wearing matching white uniforms.
They turn in perfect synchronization to stare at me, five pairs of identical blue eyes boring into my soul.
"Hello, Jack Crackwell," they say in perfect unison, their voices overlapping in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
"Uh, hi," I reply, shifting my jacket to make sure it's still covering the situation down below. Their resemblance to Emma is uncanny, which isn't helping my current predicament one bit.
One of them steps forward, separating from the perfect formation. "We're the Stepford Cuckoos," she announces. "I'm Sophie."
Another steps forward. "Phoebe."
Then another. "Irma."
And another. "Celeste."
The last one moves forward, completing their little roll call. "Esme."
They stare at me expectantly, five identical faces wearing five identical expressions of cool assessment.
"Nice to meet you all," I say, trying not to fidget under their collective gaze. "I'm Jack, but you already knew that."
"We know a lot of things," one says, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"So, do any of you know where I might find Katrina?" I ask, trying to sound casual despite my desperate state. "I need to talk to her"
The five blonde girls exchange glances with each other. Their expressions shift subtly, eyebrows raising and lips pursing.
"We don't know where Nightcrawler is," says Sophie, her tone clipped.
"And we don't care to know," adds Phoebe, with a hint of disdain.
Esme steps forward, her ice-blue eyes narrowing as she studies me. "Why are you looking for her immediately after meeting with Miss Frost?"
I shift uncomfortably under their collective scrutiny. "I just need to... discuss something with her. Something important."
Irma's lips curl into a knowing smirk. "Your thoughts are broadcasting rather... loudly, Mr. Crackwell. We can sense your... urgency."
My face burns with embarrassment. These girls are literally reading my horniest thoughts right now. I'm caught red-handed, and there's no use pretending otherwise.
"Alright, yeah. Emma is a fucking succubus and I want to fuck someone. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I snap, frustrated and embarrassed in equal measure.
The effect is immediate. Five identical faces flush bright pink, their cool composure cracking instantly. They exchange wide-eyed glances with each other.
"We... have to go," Sophie stammers, suddenly unable to meet my eyes.
"Right now," Phoebe adds, already taking a step backward.
"Important... things," Celeste mumbles, her cheeks flaming red.
"Elsewhere," Irma finishes weakly.
Esme, the last one standing her ground, gives me one final appraising look before turning away. "Miss Frost was right about you," she murmurs, almost to herself, before hurrying after her sisters.
Within seconds, they've disappeared down the hallway in perfect synchronization, leaving me alone with my frustration and still very persistent hard-on.
"Great," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Just great."
I wander the mansion for the next twenty minutes, looking for Katrina in all her usual haunts. The chapel, the library, the teacher's lounge, no sign of her anywhere. My frustration grows with each empty room, my body still humming with energy that desperately needs release.
As I'm about to give up and just take matters into my own hand, I turn a corner and nearly collide with Rogue. She's dressed in her casual clothes, a green tank top with a sheer long-sleeved shirt over it, tight jeans, and those ever-present gloves. Her white-streaked hair frames her face perfectly, making those emerald eyes pop.
"Hey, Rogue," I say, trying to sound normal despite the fact that I'm still low-key dying inside from sexual frustration.
"Well hey there, sugah," she drawls, her Southern accent thick as honey. "You look like a man on a mission."
"Have you seen Katrina anywhere?" I ask, hoping my desperation isn't too obvious. "Been looking all over for her."
Rogue shakes her head. "She's out right now, sugah. Took the Blackbird to DC for some meetin' with the Professor."
"Ah," I say, my shoulders slumping.
"Is there somethin' I can help you with?" Rogue asks, her eyes studying me with curiosity. "You look like you're about to burst into flames."
"Uhhh..." I hesitate, my mind racing. Rogue is standing right here, and she's gorgeous, but there's that whole can't-touch-skin thing. Plus, I barely know her. But then again...
I clear my throat. "Can I ask you something kind of personal? About the mansion?"
She raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Sure thing."
"Do people in the mansion, like... hook up a lot? With each other, I mean?" The words tumble out before I can second-guess myself.
Rogue's laugh is rich and warm, filling the hallway. "Oh honey," she says, wiping a tear from her eye, "we all know you did with Jubilee. Word travels fast 'round here. And I also heard a few of the students saw you sneakin' out of Katrina's room last week. You ain't exactly subtle, sugah."
I run a hand through my hair, mortified yet somehow relieved at the same time. "Is it... wrong if I do things like that? Like, am I breaking some unwritten rule or something?"
"Course not," Rogue says, her expression softening. "This place is all about freedom and experimentation, Jack. As long as everything happens within a safe context and boundaries are respected, it's perfectly fine."
I swallow hard, my heart suddenly hammering against my ribs. This is my chance. Before I can overthink it, I take a dive, "So, uh, is there any way you and I could... you know..." I trail off, gesturing vaguely between us.
"Ahh," Rogue says, her eyes widening slightly. "I'm actually dating Remi. Gambit, you know?"
"Oh my God," I stammer, mortification washing over me in waves. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry. I would never have asked if…"
She laughs, the sound warm and genuine rather than mocking. "No, it's fine, sugar. Really." She holds up her gloved hands, wiggling her fingers. "It wouldn't work anyway. If our skin even touched a little bit, it could mean certain death for you."
I blink, processing this information. "That must be so hard," I say quietly, suddenly feeling like a complete ass for my horndog behavior.
"Yeah..." she sighs, a flicker of genuine sadness crossing her face before she masks it with a smile. "Been dealing with it my whole life. Can't touch anyone skin-to-skin without absorbing their powers, memories... maybe even killing them if I hold on too long."
The hallway suddenly feels smaller, more intimate. My earlier desperation fades as I realize how self-absorbed I've been.
"I'm sorry," I say again, but this time I mean it differently. "Not just about asking, but about... everything. That's a heavy burden."
Rogue shrugs, but I can see the weight behind her casual gesture. "We all got our crosses to bear, sugar. Some are just more visible than others."
Rogue's lips curl into a wicked smile that makes my heart skip a beat. "But I am flattered you would just straight-up ask me to sleep with you like that. Bold move."
She shifts her weight, leaning against the wall with casual grace. "Remi's gonna get a real kick out of this story when I tell her later."
"Please don't tell her," I blurt out, panic rising in my chest. "I really don't need another person in this mansion hating me. Gene's already got that market cornered."
Rogue bursts into laughter, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. She clutches her stomach, those emerald eyes sparkling with genuine amusement.
"Hate you?" she manages between fits of giggles. "Sugar, you got it all wrong. I bet Remi would try to convince me to include you so she could sleep with you herself."
My mouth falls open in shock. "Wait… she would what?"
Rogue's grin widens. "Remi's got a thing for pretty boys with troubled pasts. And you certainly fit that bill."
I stare at her, trying to process this information. The casual way she's talking about her girlfriend potentially wanting to sleep with me is throwing me for a loop.
"So you two have like an... open relationship?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Something like that," Rogue says with a shrug. "When you can't touch the person you love most in the world, you gotta get creative."
The implications hit me like a freight train. Between Jubilee, Katrina, and now potentially Remi, I'm starting to feel like I'm developing quite the reputation around here.
"Hey, can I ask you something else?" I shift my weight nervously. "Do you think if I hook up with too many people here, they'll think I'm a slut?"
Rogue studies me for a moment, those emerald eyes seeming to look straight through me. Then she lets out a soft laugh that holds no judgment, just genuine amusement.
"We're the next step in evolution, Jack," she says, her Southern drawl making the words sound like poetry. "Is it being a slut, or is it just learning to love freely?"
She pushes herself off the wall and adjusts her gloves, that white streak in her hair catching the light as she tosses her head.
"Anyway, I gotta go," she says with a wink. "Remi's waiting for me in the garage. Think about what I said, sugar."
I watch her walk away, her words echoing in my mind long after she's disappeared around the corner.