And Peter Woke Up

By

Jeremy Harper

Note – The X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics and are used without permission.

Peter woke up, slowly, groggily, blinking bleary eyes as he stared up at his bedroom ceiling. He shifted slightly and winced, blunt rods of pain flaring in the back of his head – reminders of the copious amounts of vodka he had drank at last night's party. White wolf, he couldn't recall the last time he drank so much over such a short period of time. At least his mouth didn't taste too much like a sewer. He lifted his right hand to massage his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose when someone one his right shifted and snuggled up against him.

He glanced over. Kitty was lying next to him, a small smile of contentment on her peaceful face. Peter smiled. He rolled onto his side, gathered her up in his arms, and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She let out a soft sigh and snuggled closer to him. Peter ran a hand through her hair and settled back down, closing his eyes.

They snapped wide open when he felt someone cuddle up against his bare back.

Peter carefully twisted around. Rachel was curled up next to him, her happy, satisfied face flushed, her fiery red locks an artfully tousled mess. She let out a sigh and shifted. Peter held his breath. She rolled on to her other side, pressed gently back against him, and settled down.

Moving carefully, so not to wake up either woman, Peter lay on his back, an expression of sheer panic on his face. He was trying desperately to remember just how much vodka he had consumed last night. He was vaguely aware that it was a lot, and also remembered Kitty had seemed to match him drink for drink. How much Rachel imbibed, he couldn't recall at all. He gave up his efforts as futile, and started to wonder if he would get out of this situation without getting mind-scrambled or phased through a wall – or both. If he did, he'd take the pledge. Never would a drop of liquor pass through his lips again. To his embarrassment, scraps of memory of his goings-on with Kitty and Rachel last night flashed through his thoughts. At least both girls seemed to have enjoyed themselves. Somehow, he doubted that good mood would last when they woke up.

Peter sighed softly, settling himself for a long wait. Maybe it would help if he prayed… He remembered hearing that no man in a foxhole was ever an atheist…

No man waking up in bed with two women ever was one, either.


Notes – I initially wrote this while discussing with my friend and partner-in-crime Lia Fail our current project. Lia found this amusing, so I've decided to post it here. Hopefully it gave you a chuckle. Doubt I'll do anything else with it, but you can never tell.

Take care, all.

Jeremy Harper