by Maueen

standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: I wrote this...a hell of a long time ago and just left it in the unfinished pile of fanfics I have. Then I stopped writing GenX and X-Men fanfic. Then I lost my webspace and my webpage went down. So...this fic just sat. And then my friend, Angel, convinced me I had to post it. So, with her bugging me...I edited it and posted. I couldn't decide when I first wrote it if Cannonball or Cyclops should co-star...so...read on and find out which one is here!


Jono dreamed, lucid, fantastic dreams worth of a Stanley Kubrick film, rich in color and hedonistically bizarre. What else can be expected of a depressed British teen after seeing the musical Cabaret?

Without him realizing he reached out with his mind, touching the only other mind at the school so open to telepathic projection, that of the guest lecturer, Scott Summers. He was lecturing on the effects of telepathy on an unsuspecting person while the regular teacher was away for a long weekend.

Jono himself was a telepath, but nearly completely untrained. He had no desire to learn how to read minds or project his thoughts to others. He merely had enough control to prevent himself from going insane most of the time, although he could be more powerful than even his teachers if he learned to control it. The after-effects from before he could control his powers even a miniscule amount left him a shell of the vivacious, extrovert he had once been. Now he was silent, sullen and wore long sleeves to cover the road map of scars on his arms he inflicted on himself to try to shut the voices up and thick black bandages to hide the physical damage his powers caused his body.


A montage of images flooded Scott's restless sleep. After being married to a telepath and virtually mind-raped by everyone and their grandmother, his shields were tissue paper compared to Jono's mental sledgehammer and he never even noticed them shattering into a million pieces.

Scott was dressed as the MC complete with garish makeup and suspenders. Jono was clad in tight fitting black leather pants emphasizing his sexuality, the tight black shirt barely reining in the energy of his mind.

They embraced as if it was the most natural action between two heterosexual men who had never had feelings for one another before. In fact, before earlier that day, they had never even met. Scott's thoughts briefly drifted towards Jean, his wife, before his attention once again returned to the younger man.

Scott had never been with another man sexually his entire life and considered himself completely straight, yet here he was squeezing Jono's arse, cupping it gently in one hand while Jono made him feel more alive than Jean ever had. Quickly the absurdity of the events were displaced by sheer bliss and Scott thought of nothing more than how happy he was.


The next morning Scott woke up feelings oddly refreshed and invigorated. And unclothed.

Rubbing his chin blearily in front of the bathroom mirror, he stared at himself. It was a dream, wasn't it?

Quickly getting dressed, he rushed into the kitchen for coffee. Coffee would help him decide if it was a dream or not.

There was Jono at the kitchen table reading a magazine. Wearing only boxers.

"It was a dream?" Scott asked, uncertainly.

Jono nodded. *Yeah.*

"Was it you or me?"

*Me. I didn't mean to, no control.* no remorse in the ghostly voice.

"Were the feelings real?"

*You gorra answer that for yourself, Gov.* Jono said, rising to leave.

Scott briefly glanced down, noticing the black silk boxers with guitars on them that clad Jono's waist. Oh dear, he thought, Jean isn't going to like this


A/N: it was Scott...there was something icky feeling about Jono dating Paige and then having psychic-sex with her brother...