A wing and a prayer

[Warren Worthington III]

((OOC: continues from Flying Lessons, this is the men's bathroom if they're gender-segregated, which they might not be.))

Warren looks the outer surfaces of his wings over in the mirror once Josh floats him through the window, and winces at the red, chafed tissue... he hasn't had windburn that bad since the day he tried to hitch a ride on a plane.

He opens his side of the medicine cabinet, pulls out a bottle of his wing lotion, then starts stripping off his muddy clothes and tossing them into an out-of-the-way corner. He'll clean as much of the mud off his wings off as he can, he figures, then start in with the lotion. Which is always a slow and awkward operation, so he figures he might as well get started.

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

>"Of course, I bet a dextrous telekinetic has plenty of moves of his own, huh?"

Josh sees Warren wink at him and he can suddenly feel himself get warmer, like color is spreading across his face. To cover, he arches an eyebrow and says, “Well - I guess you’ll find out at concert, right?” He lifts Warren through the window with his powers.

He lifts himself through the window, and sees Warren pulling a bottle out of the cabinet. That must be his wing lotion… it’s a good thing he keeps some of it here.

Then Warren begins pulling other things off - the everything type of other things - and Josh is suddenly interested in his own sopping clothes.

“I think this shirt might have seen its last day.” He pulls it off and slings it into the corner - it joins Warren’s mud-soaked articles. He pulls off his jeans - which are drenched - and those, too, are thrown haphazardly away.

He’s left in muddy boxers. Yuck! He pulls those off too, and grabbing his shampoo and soap off the ledge, steps under one of the shower heads. Josh turns it on.

“Ahh! This is amazing. I didn’t realize how cold the rain was.” He turns to Warren, in the cubicle next to him. “Feeling any better?” He rubs some shampoo into his dark hair, trying to get the mud out.

[Warren Worthington III]

Getting the mud off his body is easy enough... and Warren isn't too worried about his hair. As always, it's the wings that cause the bulk of his grooming issues.

> "Feeling any better?"

"Oh, not yet," he replies cheerfully as he turns off the water and squeezes a handful of lotion into his palm. "But I will be."

Rubbing down the ends of his wings is easy enough... he just wraps the wing around in front of him and runs his lotion-covered hands along its length, until all the sore red patches are shiny and the cooling, soothing goop is taking effect. He sighs in relief for a moment.

But of course, that just makes the backs of his wings seem worse off by comparison, and they're the hard part. He pours some of his wing-lotion into a loofah, tosses it behind his back, catches it between both wings, rubs his wing-surfaces together to slide the loofah around, only moderately successfully.

It slips out and falls to the floor before he's barely gotten started, and he reaches down to pick it up and tries again.

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

This is probably the best shower I've ever taken. Westchester is a cold, rainy place. Josh lets the hot water pound down on his shoulders. He's rinsing shampoo out of his hair when he notices Warren having some trouble getting at the backs of his wings. As much fun as he seems to get out of them, I guess there had to be a downside. He finishes clearing the suds out of his hair, and looks over at Warren.

“Do you need any help with your wings? Looks like you’re… having a little difficulty.” Josh shakes his head as if clearing it. He steps around the divider as Warren drops the loofah and bends down to pick it up.

He sees the windburns on Warren’s wings when he’s standing next to the other boy, and reaches out a hand, but is careful not to touch them. Looks painful, poor guy. “Anything I can do to make them feel better?”

[Warren Worthington III]

> "Do you need any help with your wings?
> Looks like you’re… having a little difficulty."

Warren looks over his shoulder and up at Josh.

"Oh... um," he mumbles, vaguely embarassed. He tries to stand up hastily and slips back down to one knee on the soap-slick tile.

"It's nothing, really. Just, you know, they're chafed. From the wind."

He points to the bottle of lotion on the ledge near the shower-head. "That stuff helps a lot, actually. It's a special compound I get made up, I don't even know what's in it. Smells a little like bleach and a lot like lemons, but it soothes the burn like nothing else."

He shrugs. "It's just a pain to apply everywhere, you know? I can't really reach the base of my wings, they're just too big to get my arms around properly, even with a backscrubber. So I do that goofy thing with the loofah. Which works, eventually, it's just... awkward."

> "Anything I can do to make them feel better?"

"Oh! Um... well, I mean... I guess, if you wouldn't mind? Just, you know, rubbing it in lightly?"

[Bobby Drake]

Bobby's power keeps him from having to sweat, but it doesn't keep him from getting dirty, so the occassional shower is called for. And he's got some time on his hands.

Except, as he walks into one of the shower stalls, he looks over and sees Josh and Warren sharing one of the others. Well, he's pretty sure that's Warren, even though he's kneeling... the wings are pretty distinctive.

"Whoops! Sorry, guys..." He blushes and backs hastily out of the shower and the bathroom.

Wow, he muses as he returns to his room Didn't see that one coming...

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

>"Oh! Um... well, I mean... I guess, if you wouldn't mind? Just, you know, rubbing it in lightly?"

“Of course. It’s the least I can do after you taught me to fly.” He grins, and takes the bottle from the ledge.

Suddenly, Bobby walks in, and stops dead, backing up and out of the bathroom.

>"Whoops! Sorry, guys..."

Oh, god. Josh rolls his eyes. He’d never hear the end of it from Bobby. No worries on Bobby spreading it around, though. He’d just make sure to bring it up to Josh every chance he got for the next millennia.

<Don’t worry about him. Bobby doesn’t exactly have his head on straight right now. In fact, I could probably convince him this afternoon that this little scene didn’t actually happen, which really would have been too bad if it didn’t - > he catches himself mentally. What did I just mean by that?

“Anyway,” Josh says, continuing verbally, “ rubbing in lightly?” He coats his hands in Warren’s salve, and begins to apply it to his wingtips gently.

[Warren Worthington III]

> I could probably convince him this afternoon that this
> little scene didn’t actually happen

That thought rattles around Warren's mind as Josh rubs the lotion into his wings, but he doesn't give it a lot of thought at first, just leans into Josh's hands and enjoys the sensation. "Oh... that's much better. Yeah..." He's not sure which feels better, the salve soothing his chafing skin or the strong hands kneading his sore muscles, but he's glad he doesn't have to choose between them.

He wonders whether Drake got the wrong idea... probably, he figures. It was kind of a compromising position, despite being perfectly innocent. Well, mostly innocent, anyway.

Which reminds him again of Josh's thought, and he turns curiously to reply, then looks up startled into Josh's face. "You can do that? Make people forget stuff, you mean? Wow. I knew you were a telepath, but I didn't realize you were that well, um, that powerful."

He's read some of the accounts of Xavier messing with people's memories, and they creep him out. That would be an easy power to abuse, he thinks, just do whatever you want and even if you're caught, nobody remembers catching you. And tack mind control onto that... wow!

Of course, by all accounts Xavier never seriously abused his powers like that. Then again, that's exactly what the accounts would say, whether he had or hadn't. And Warren never even met the guy.

On the other hand, he did see Magneto and his Brotherhood in action, and something he learned from watching his dad's business partners is that sometimes you can tell more about a man's character by studying his enemies than you can by studying him. If Xavier built the X-Men to oppose that crowd that's all Warren really needs to know about him, and them.

Then again, that's Xavier, and this is Josh. And Josh seems like a nice enough guy, but that kind of power would go to anybody's head.

"What else can you do?"

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

Josh is drawing his hands across Warren’s wings, massaging the muscles, when Warren brings up his telepathy.

>"You can do that? Make people forget stuff, you mean? Wow. I knew you were a telepath, but I didn't realize you were that well, um, that powerful."

He gives Warren an incredulous look, and then suddenly it makes sense. “What? Oh, no, no, no. I meant…. It was a joke. At most, I can communicate with someone over a short distance, and pick up occasional stray thoughts if someone’s not keeping the lid on their feelings. I leave anything beyond that to the heavy hitters…” His hand moves to Warren’s pectoral muscle, and he begins massaging it. Hey - it must be sore too, right? “If I tried to use Cerebro with my current telepathic ability, it would probably kill me.” He keeps his voice light.

“I know that telepaths scare some people - I can’t really blame them, I guess. But I want you to know that even if I could go into your thoughts, Warren, I wouldn’t without your permission. That’s wrong.” Josh looks at Warren seriously, guiding him to lean against the wall, and switching to the other pec. He finishes up and goes back to a wing.

“I…. really like you, Warren. I hope you’re not afraid of me.” Josh looks down for a moment.

[Warren Worthington III]

Warren is relieved by Josh's response for a moment, then does a bit of an internal double-take and asks himself why he should believe it.

It's not that he doesn't trust Josh. He does. It may be nothing more than intuition telling him so, but how's that any different than any of his other friends? Ultimately you either trust someone or you don't, and he trusts Josh.

But it goes deeper than that, he thinks... then his train of thought is derailed by Josh working on his pecs, which precludes coherent thought and comes close to precluding keeping his feet, though he manages somehow.

> "I hope you’re not afraid of me."

Am I? The thought is unusually simple for him, and has a correspondingly simple answer. "No, I'm not."

He surprises himself by adding "I just wish I knew why I wasn't." Which rattles through his mind for a second or two before he realizes how that probably sounds. "Um... wait. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

He should probably just let it go and let Josh keep doing what he's doing, but the more he tries the more it nags on his mind until he finally gently pushes Josh's hands away from his wings. "Hold on a sec... it's hard to think straight while you're doing that, and I want to make sure you understand."

"I spend half my time trying to convince people they shouldn't be scared of mutants, even though we have special powers they don't understand and can't defend themselves against. And then here I was, freaking out at the idea that you might be able to mess with my head, and... I don't know. It's fine, because I trust you. Really."

"I just wish I had some reason for it, something I could use to convince other people, you know? Something more than a gut feeling. Of course it doesn't work that way. But still."

He looks down, then sighs and laughs. "Sorry... I'm usually more fun than this, really. Admittedly, I usually need a couple of hits to get me there. Swear to God, when they market the Warren Worthington doll it'll have a little recording chip that delivers one of a dozen depressing little lectures on mutant/human politics whenever you try to turn it on... anyway, you'll see, I'll be more fun after the concert."

He shrugs. "In the meantime... think we can just make a run to our rooms like this without scandalizing anybody else? I have no interest in putting those clothes back on, frankly, but I think I've ruined your reputation enough for one morning."

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

Josh is relieved at Warren’s "No, I'm not.", but bites his lip at the next sentence. The other boy guides his hands away for a second, and he listens intently to Warren’s discourse.

It makes sense, it really does. Especially seeing as certain mutants have made a bad name for all of us. Even mutants themselves aren’t immune to assumptions.

>…Of course it doesn't work that way. But still."

“Maybe… maybe you could tell them that deep down, we’re all human. Our DNA makes us who we are, but we’re more than base pairs. Just because some mutants can do things that normal people can’t,” Josh makes a bar of soap tumble in midair between them at this, “doesn’t make us any less human. If you’re going to be suspicious and scared of everyone - fine. But I personally think that would be a sad way to live. Life is too short for that.” He brushes a bit of suds off of Warren’s forehead at this.


>"In the meantime... think we can just make a run to our rooms like this without scandalizing anybody else? I have no interest in putting those clothes back on, frankly, but I think I've ruined your reputation enough for one morning."

Josh raises an eyebrow. “I’m not worried about my reputation - pretty sure it was my idea to help you with your wings.” He lifts a hand to his temple. “I….. don’t think there’s anyone in the hallway right now. But, like I said - the Force is weak with this one.” He grins. “Want to risk it?”

[Warren Worthington III]

> ...Life is too short for that.” He brushes a bit of suds off of Warren’s forehead

Warren ducks his head bashfully into his shoulder, then smiles fondly at Josh. "Careful... it's looking like speechmaker's disease may be contagious. Keep that up and I may start bringing you with me on tour." He grins.

"But you're right, that's the bottom line. Anyone you meet might be carrying anthrax, but they probably aren't, and you can't live life worrying about it."

He sighs. "To be honest, though, even I have trouble applying that principle sometimes. The idea of someone messing with my thoughts, my memories, my feelings..." he shivers suddenly, "...well, it gives me goose bumps. But I'll get used to it. And so will everybody else, eventually. Just takes time, is all."

> "Want to risk it?"

Warren laughs. "Risk? I guess you haven't heard about the skinny-dipping incident, huh? Between that and your roommate's little visit I don't think I have any, um, secrets left around the Institute. Which is OK with me... after spending years wearing that harness, I say the fewer clothes the better. I may just become a practicing nudist and save on the laundry bills." He steps out of the shower as he talks and crouches down to gather his sodden, muddy clothes in a lump, holding them with his arms at full extension as he stands back up.

"Oh, and don't forget our deal," he adds over his shoulder as he heads to the bathroom door, "Dinner's on me tonight. Just tell me where to show and I'll be there. And I promise to wear clothes."

[Josh Dalton Worthington]

>The idea of someone messing with my thoughts, my memories, my feelings..."

“The idea of someone messing around with my head freaks me out, too. Messing around with someone else’s head is even more frightening, though. Sometimes, I’m glad all I can really do is pass mental notes in class, y’know?” Josh levitates his muddy clothing in front of him.

>.. after spending years wearing that harness, I say the fewer clothes the better. I may just become a practicing nudist and save on the laundry bills."

A sudden image of Warren fighting naked in the Danger Room rises into Josh’s mind, causing him to shake his head. “Everyone skinny-dips in that lake, Warren. It’s the closest thing to “forbidden” that we have here, besides sneaking out. I’ve had some wild dreams of stealing the Blackbird for a joyride, but I figured the penalty was way, way not worth the payout,” he says, turning off the water.

He steps towards the door. “Though I don’t need to worry about that anymore, now that I can fly whenever I want. Thanks, Warren!” Josh opens the door to the bathroom and stealthily pokes his head out. “I hope we can go flying again sometime. Next time you’ve go to teach me some evasive maneuvers...” He flashes a smile and dodges out the door and down the hall at top speed.

<I’ll make sure to tell you what’s up for tonight. Aaack!> A female scream echoes down the hallway.

[Bobby Drake]

(( OOC: This thread is closed out ))