Magical Mutations (Ch. 14) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Magical Mutations 

Chapter 14

Jean’s dorm room was small, just like all the other dorms in Xavier’s mansion, but Harry liked the coziness. The air always smelled like her shampoo and perfume, which Harry liked very much. She’d strung a line of small crystal beads across the window, so the afternoon sun produced prism patterns that crawled over the bedspread and across the walls. Every inch of the room screamed Jean Grey. There were stacks of textbooks and science magazines piled up on her otherwise tidy desk, but there were also plenty of girly things, like half-empty perfume and lotion bottles and shopping bags from the trendiest shops in the mall. 

They’d started the afternoon with the honest intention of studying for next week’s test. They’d even made it through a chapter and a half before Jean had closed her textbook, rolled over, and kissed the corner of his mouth. Jean had an amusing habit of switching from “study partner” to “girlfriend” in a single intimate gesture. Harry, of course, didn’t mind one bit, and he certainly didn’t mind the distraction. 

As soon as Jean kissed him, the conversation was over. It was just a matter of how long it would take for her to push him onto his back and climb on top of him, or, like now, pull him down beside her and keep him trapped with her legs. Jean seemed to enjoy being a little bit naughty, and Harry was more than happy to play along.

The first kiss was soft and sweet. Jean’s lips lingered, and when she pulled back, her eyes glowed with playfulness. “You weren’t listening,” she said, explaining her reason for ending the study session. 

Harry grinned. “Your top was distracting me,” he teased, looking down at her soft, smooth belly. Her shirt had ridden up until most of her slim, toned stomach was showing. 

She poked his ribs. “I’ll put on a sweater if you want me to be less distracting.”

“I don’t,” Harry said, rolling over and trapping her between his arms. “I really, really don’t.”

For a while, they just kissed. Their lips danced slowly and lazily, as if they had all the time in the world. At first, Jean took the lead, but Harry could feel the tide turning as he pressed her deeper into the mattress. She arched her back, and his hand slid up beneath the hem of her shirt, skimming over the flat plane of her stomach. Her skin was silky soft, and Harry, feeling emboldened by her little gasp, ran his fingers under the pale blue cup of her bra.

Jean’s hands went to his hair, and her nails scratched lightly at his scalp. Jean arched her back harder, thrusting her bare tit into his palm. She moaned against his lips as his fingers found her stiff little nub. He rolled the crinkled tip of her nipple between his fingers, making Jean gasp, moan, and squirm. He was just thinking about pulling her shirt off completely when they were both distracted. 

The Professor’s voice suddenly filled his head. The sound was as clear as a bell, as if the old man was sitting at the foot of the bed. “Logan, Ororo, Jean, and Harry … Please see me in my office.”

Jean broke the kiss with a yelp. She quickly untangled her fingers from his hair. “That is so rude!” she said, feeling both amused and mortified. 

Harry groaned and let his forehead fall to her chest. “He has the absolute worst timing,” he said, breathing in her scent to help calm his rapidly beating heart. He could almost hear the Professor’s chuckle in his head. 

Jean disentangled herself and sat up. Her cheeks were red, but her eyes were shining with mirth. “We’d better go. He’ll only ask louder if you ignore him.”

Harry flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to will away his awkward boner. After a moment of composing himself, he sat up and watched Jean fix her messy hair in the mirror. She used her powers to float a brush through it. She pulled her hair into a quick ponytail, then turned to inspect Harry with a cheeky look.

“You look like you just got caught making out by your girlfriend’s dad,” she teased.

Harry clutched his chest in melodramatic agony. “Please, don’t joke. That would terrify me.”

Jean snorted. “You’re not terrified of anything.”

“I was terrified of your reaction when I told you I’d just ‘wing it’ on next week’s exam,” he said, straightening out his shirt.

Jean rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She grabbed a denim jacket from the back of her desk chair, shrugged it on, then reached out a hand to Harry. He took it, and she used the leverage to yank him off the bed with surprising strength.

They paused for a moment in the doorway, listening to the faint sounds drifting through the mansion’s halls. Next door, Kitty was rehearsing a dance routine in her room, and further down the hall, Rogue had her heavy metal cranked up to eleven. Harry didn’t mind the noise, but when he looked at Jean, he saw that she was deep in thought. 

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, bumping her with his shoulder.

Jean nodded and looked up. “I’m fine. It’s just … sometimes I wish we had more time together. Every time we find a moment to ourselves, the next crisis starts.”

He squeezed her hand. “We’ll get more time together. I promise.”

She smiled. “I'm going to hold you to that, so you better not disappoint me.” Then she released him, and they walked down the hall together.

They made their way over to the Professor’s office, where they found Logan and Ororo already waiting outside the office door. Logan looked like he’d just woken up from a nap. His flannel shirt was all wrinkled, and his hair was a mess. Ororo serenely stood by the window, impeccable as always. She wore a white blouse and a pair of very tight jeans that showed off her womanly figure. 

Logan grunted when he saw them. “You two get lost on the way here?”

“Sorry, Logan,” Jean said. “We were … distracted.”

Harry stifled a grin, but Ororo caught it and raised an elegant eyebrow. “You both look flushed,” she observed with a knowing smile. Logan just shook his head and chuckled. Jean elbowed Harry as he chuckled along with him. 

Inside, Xavier was waiting, seated in his wheelchair behind the wide mahogany desk. The room was stiflingly neat, as if every pen and notepad had their proper place. The only thing that looked out of place was the old chessboard in the corner, where the Professor played endless matches against himself.

He greeted them with a nod. “Thank you for coming so quickly,” Xavier said, folding his hands. “As you might have guessed, we have a situation.”

Logan cracked his knuckles. “What is it this time, Chuck?”

Xavier gestured for them to sit. Jean and Harry squeezed onto the love seat, while Ororo elegantly sat on the edge of a leather armchair. Logan leaned against the wall with his arms folded.

Xavier’s fingers drummed on two thick folders before he addressed the room. “This one requires a delicate touch. Logan, Jean, you’ll be taking point on a situation in Pennsylvania. There’s a young man named Fred Dukes. His mutation recently manifested, and we have reason to believe he’s not coping well. His powers are … quite dramatic, and he’s drawing the wrong kind of attention. I’d like you to do a discreet evaluation and see if you believe he is open to help. Don’t make contact just yet. He might be a bit … unstable.”

Logan yawned, but his eyes glinted at having something to do. “So, just another Tuesday.” He snagged the folder from Xavier’s hand and flipped it open, scanning the mugshot on the top page. “Damn, he’s a big kid. You sure we don’t need backup for this one?”

Jean snatched the file from Logan and skimmed the summary. Her brow furrowed. “He’s only seventeen and already weighs over four hundred pounds. This can’t be easy for him.” She tapped her finger on the line about extreme binge-eating. “Are we sure this is mutation-related, or is it, you know, just biology?”

Xavier smiled, though he looked a bit fatigued. “His body density is off the charts, and there was an incident at his last school in Texas where he shrugged off a moving van.”

“Great,” Logan said. “I’ll bring snacks.” Jean elbowed him in the ribs, but she was already making her own mental plans for how to approach the boy when the time was right.

That left Harry and Ororo waiting for their orders, and Harry looked over expectantly. “What about us, Professor? I’m guessing we don’t get the night off?”

“Far from it,” Xavier said, producing the second folder. “You two are headed to Indiana, east of Terre Haute. There’s a rural town called Clay River, and the police have requested help with a ‘wild animal problem.’ I’ve intercepted enough chatter to believe there’s a mutant involved. The locals claim it’s Bigfoot. I suspect it’s just a young mutant with a particularly misleading appearance.” He handed Ororo the folder. 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You’re sending us on a cryptid hunt? Count me in.”

Ororo’s lips parted in a slow, amused smile, but her tone was as businesslike as always. “Do we know anything about the mutant’s abilities? Should we expect violence?”

“That, I cannot say. The reports are contradictory. Some say he’s invisible, others that he’s been seen running through the forests at impossible speed. There have been some gruesome injuries, but luckily, there are no reports of casualties so far. I trust your judgment to keep it that way.”

Harry tried to look stoic, but Jean caught the twinkle in his eye. “Are you excited to run around the woods, hunting Sasquatch?” she teased.

Harry could help but smile. “Maybe.”

Ororo gave him a look of serene amusement. “Just don’t ask me to pull the ticks and leeches off your body.”

Logan grunted, “And don’t bring back a mangy rug for the mansion. Dander aggravates my allergies.”

Jean rolled her eyes but grinned. “So, babysitting for us, and monster-hunting for them.”

“Correct,” Xavier said. “But please remember, all of these mutants are in potential danger … from both themselves and others. My first concern is their safety. Yours, as well.”

“We’ll be careful,” Jean said, then stood up, and Harry followed her. Outside in the hall, Jean glanced sideways at Harry. “You don’t actually believe in Bigfoot, right?”

He shrugged. “I never believed in psychic redheads, either. The world’s full of surprises.”

Jean snorted, then reached up to ruffle his hair. “Let’s go pack your best Bigfoot-hunting jacket. It’ll be cold out in the woods.” Harry chuckled and slipped an arm around her waist. Jean leaned into him. “I wish we were on the same team,” she sighed. “Then at least we could cuddle on the way there.”

Harry caressed her hip, which made Jean giggle. “We’ll be back soon. Then we can get in your nice, warm bed, and you can tutor me all night long.”

Jean smiled brightly and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Just don’t get eaten by Bigfoot or bears. I’d be really annoyed.”

He tickled her side, and she squealed and pushed him away. Harry threatened to tickle her again, and she laughed and ran toward the dorms with Harry hot on her heels. After a few more kisses, they both packed everything they would need. Jean left to find Logan while Harry left in search of Storm. 

He found Ororo standing outside her room, waiting for him. She smiled when he caught up. “Are you ready for another field trip, Harry?”

“Only if you promise we don’t have to camp in a cold, dreary tent.”

Ororo chuckled. “No, I believe a nice, cozy hotel will suffice,” she said, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Harry grabbed Ororo’s bag, which made her smile. Together, they walked toward the garage, where the next adventure waited.

Magical Mutations

Harry and Ororo took a flight out of JFK, and he was instantly reminded of how much he hated commercial air travel. The seats were too cramped for his legs, the air always smelled faintly of feet and cheap perfume, and the man in front of him spent the entire two-hour flight coughing. At least Ororo made the ordeal more interesting. She spent the takeoff grinning. Her eyes sparkled with that thrill she always felt when she was in the sky, and Harry caught himself smiling at her infectious energy. They landed at O’Hare after midnight, and by the time they collected their rental car, both were already tired. 

Midwest highways after dark were a different beast. Harry drove, squinting through the bug-streaked windshield as the headlights illuminated nothing but endless rows of trees and the fleeting glint of animal eyes in the ditches. Ororo dozed in the passenger seat with her head resting against the window, but every so often she’d mumble a warning about black ice or a deer, and Harry would instinctively put his foot on the brake pedal, even when the road was clear. He didn’t mind the backseat driving … at least not from her.

After three hours, they finally reached the edge of Clay River, which was barely more than a main street with a few shops closed for the night, and a few scattered neighborhoods. They wound through gravel backroads for another ten minutes until they found the hunting cabin the Professor had reserved for them. The sign over the door read “Whitetail Lodge,” which Harry thought was generous, considering the place looked about one raccoon attack away from falling over. Even so, if it had a nice, soft bed, Harry wouldn’t complain. 

Ororo stepped out of the car, stretched, then glanced around at the moonlit woods with a contemplative look. Harry followed her up the porch steps, carrying their bags. The key was exactly where the owner had said it would be, hidden under a chipped flowerpot beside the door. Harry unlocked it and shouldered inside, half-expecting the interior to be cold and musty. Instead, it was warm, and the air smelled faintly of pine, which Harry liked. The cabin was a single room with a tiny kitchenette, a lumpy sofa, and one large bed set against the wall beneath a pair of narrow windows.

“One bed?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at Ororo.

She smiled, completely unflustered, and she surveyed the room. “We’ll have to make do. Frankly, we were lucky there were any rooms to rent in this small town.” She took her bag from Harry and set it down on the sofa. “If you snore, I’ll make it rain right over your head.”

Harry snorted. “If I snore, you’ll probably sleep right through it. I’ve seen you snooze through hurricane-level turbulence.”

Ororo didn’t dignify that with a response, but her lips pulled up at the corners, and Harry saw a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She set about cracking open the windows to “refresh the air,” while Harry put away their food in the small kitchen area. Ororo moved around the cabin, checking the hot water, testing the heater, and rearranging the furniture. Harry made a mental note of her habits. She always wanted a clear line of sight to the exits. 

“According to the Professor, the incidents have all happened at night,” Ororo said, breaking the silence as she poured herself a glass of water. “We should try to rest while we can. I suspect tomorrow evening will be eventful.”

Harry nodded, though the thought of sleeping while a potential mutant predator stalked the woods nearby was less than reassuring. Still, he was exhausted, and the bed looked better with every passing minute. “Do you want to use the shower first?” he offered. “Ladies’ privilege?”

Ororo shook her head. “You go first. I wish to check the perimeter before we turn in.” She gestured to the back door, where a rickety screen led out to a frost-shrouded deck. “It would be prudent to familiarize ourselves with the grounds, yes?”

Harry agreed and took a quick shower. The cabin’s plumbing was spotty at best. The water alternated between scalding hot and frigidly cold, but he managed to scrub the travel grime off his skin in record time. He dried off and threw on a fresh t-shirt and sweats. When he stepped out of the bathroom, Ororo was gone. Harry shivered, thinking of her out there alone in the freezing night, but he knew better than to worry. Storm could handle herself against anything short of a nuclear blast.

He made a mug of instant coffee and settled onto the bed, scrolling through the folder Xavier had provided. The “wild animal” incidents were gruesome, but inconsistent. A hunter had been viciously slashed across the back, and his backpack had been stolen while he was covering up on the ground. A farmer’s goat had been slaughtered. A pair of college kids had been chased through the woods, and claw marks were found on a mobile home. There were many more incidents just like this. The police were desperate, but no one had seen the creature clearly enough to identify it. Harry wondered about the mutant. Was he doing it for fun or out of necessity? Harry didn’t think it was necessary to maim innocent people. 

The door opened, and Ororo strode in. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her white hair fanned out in the wind behind her. She quickly closed the door, kicked off her boots, and shot Harry a look. “There’s a trail of prints around the cabin,” she said. “They’re at least a week old. I’ll show you in the morning.”

“That sounds ominous,” Harry replied. “How big?”

Ororo considered his question. “Larger than a man. The tracks suggest a long stride, and they appeared to have been made by something primate-like.” She folded her arms, thinking. “I don’t believe we’re in any immediate danger, but we must be vigilant nonetheless.”

She took her turn in the shower, and Harry tried not to think about her undressing in the tiny, creaky bathroom. The sound of running water filled the cabin, and Harry sipped his coffee while finishing up with the folder. 

When Ororo finally emerged, she was wrapped in a towel that was almost too small for her tall, curvy frame. The cloth clung to her curves and left her long legs bare, and there was a single bead of water gliding down her throat before dropping into her deep cleavage. Her hair was wet and slicked back, and Harry had to forcibly remind himself to keep his eyes above her shoulders.

Ororo noticed his staring and looked amused. “You look as though you have never seen a woman before,” she teased.

Harry snapped out of it. He was embarrassed but suddenly very awake. “I, uh. Sorry. You just look …”

She laughed softly. “Don’t apologize. I’m used to being stared at.” She walked across the cabin, and he couldn’t help but notice how much her hips swayed. She bent over and rifled through her bag.

Ororo took her time digging through her duffel, and Harry tried not to stare, but he failed spectacularly. She looked over at him and smiled, then she pulled out a skimpy pair of white cotton panties. She made a point of turning her back to him as she shimmied into the panties one leg at a time. The fabric molded to her backside, leaving little to the imagination. Harry’s mouth went dry.

Ororo glanced coyly over her shoulder, and her damp white hair tumbled down her back. Then she let the towel fall away, and Harry wasn’t prepared for the sight. Her body was perfectly smooth and gloriously curvy. Her breasts were full and perfectly round, and her dark, stiff nipples jutted out from her areolas. Her slender waist flared into wide, child-bearing hips. Her panties clung to her mound and dipped into the crease of her pussy, creating a spectacular camel toe. Harry’s eyes went wide at the sight of her body. 

Ororo let him stare. She even posed for a second with her hand on her hip before reaching up to wring the last bit of water from her hair. “Is something wrong, Harry?” she teased, spinning a bundle of white hair around her finger.

“I …” Harry said, not trusting himself to recover with dignity. “Sorry. I don’t mean to gawk, but … wow.” He gave up and shook his head. “You’re making it really hard to concentrate on the mission, you know.”

She laughed, seemingly pleased with his reaction. “We both know you like to look at my body. There’s no point in pretending you don’t.” She glided over to the bed, and the floor creaked under her bare feet. “Normally, I sleep in the nude,” she said. “But I’m not sure I can trust a scoundrel like you.” She leaned in close, and Harry could feel the heat of her skin. “These will have to do, yes?” She snapped the elastic of her panties for emphasis, and Harry nearly spilled his coffee.

He watched her towel off her hair. Each pass lifted and jiggled her breasts until Harry was sure she was putting on a show. When not slicked down by water, her hair was a wild, beautiful mane, but right now, it clung to her skin in damp clumps. She dropped the towel on the bedspread and sat down next to him. Her thigh pressed against his.

“You know,” Harry said. “If you want, I could dry you off with my powers. It’s better and quicker than any hairdryer.”

Ororo’s lips curled into a sexy smile. “Is that so? I’m curious how that works.” She then tilted her head back and closed her eyes, inviting him to work his magic. 

Harry stretched out his hand with his palm open and focused. He concentrated and tapped into his Phoenix Fire. The air shimmered with heat, and it swirled around Ororo’s body, lifting the dampness from her skin in seconds. Her white hair fluttered and danced, and goosebumps rose across her arms and thighs. The air dried her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, leaving her skin warm and radiant.

Ororo gasped at the sudden warmth, then laughed with delight. “That was amazing. I feel like I just spent an hour in the sun.” She ran her hands down her arms, feeling the smooth, dry skin. “Thank you, Harry. You’re full of surprises.”

“Glad to be of service,” he said, proud of himself. He tried not to look when she adjusted her panties, but it was impossible not to notice the tautness of the fabric against her pussy.

Ororo fluffed her hair, then slid under the covers, and she wiggled until she was comfortable. She patted the space next to her. “Come. There is more than enough room for both of us.”

Harry set his mug on the nightstand and slid under the covers next to her. The mattress was old and sagged in the middle, so they rolled together until their bodies touched. Ororo pressed herself to his side and draped her bare thigh over his leg. Harry swallowed and tried to keep his breathing normal, but Ororo didn’t make it easy. She was soft and warm, and she smelled incredible. Every time she moved, her breast mashed against his arm, and when she got comfortable, she rested her cheek just above his heart. She slid her hand under his shirt and rested it on his bare stomach. 

She closed her eyes, and he heard her steady breathing. Harry lay on his back, staring at the water stain on the ceiling and feeling more awake than he’d ever been in his life. His erection was trapped under the waistband of his sweats, and he hoped Ororo wouldn’t notice. If she did, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she snuggled closer and caressed the skin above his ribs. 

“So,” Harry said after a minute of silence. “Is this what you’d call a team bonding exercise?”

Ororo smiled without opening her eyes. “I believe in establishing trust between partners. Besides, the Professor said we should be comfortable with each other.”

“I’m very comfortable,” Harry admitted, and Ororo’s hand squeezed him gently in reply.

They lay together in silence. The only sounds were the soft ticking of the heater and the gusting wind outside. Harry forced himself to relax, but he was very aware of her every touch. He wondered if she was awake or just dozing, and after a while, her breathing slowed and deepened. She was asleep.

Harry let out a slow breath and tried to follow her example, but he found it difficult. Sleep wasn’t easy with Ororo pressed against him, and certainly not with the mutant case gnawing at his thoughts. Eventually, he was able to drift off. 

He woke several hours later to a crash outside the cabin, and Ororo’s hand squeezed his arm. They both sat up, instantly alert. “Something is here,” she whispered.

Harry rolled out of bed as adrenaline flooded his system. He reached into his bag and tossed her an extra pair of sweats and a sweater. Ororo quickly put them on as she glided to the window, careful not to make a sound. She parted the curtain just enough to look out. There was a flash of movement in the trees. She saw a shadow. It was huge and quick, and it moved just beyond the edge of the porch light.

Ororo whispered in Harry’s ear. “It’s watching us.”

Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. It wasn’t from fear, but from the thrill of battle. He was ready.