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"This this isn't like a real drug? I mean, this shit's not addictive, right?"
"Trust me." Enigmatic smile.
"Right." Owen shrugged, bent over, and snorted the line. It was kind of weird, snorting a line of your teammate fuckbuddy best friend, but it's not like the last two years of his life had even approached normal.
It it felt he sneezed.
Rex just laughed. "Jeez, you'd think you'd never snorted a line in your life."
"Actually, I haven't," Owen replied and meant to go on to say something about how he'd gotten stoned and gone pilling a few times back in High School and also something about how outside of booze or a prescription from a doctor, Cold had never allowed drugs, and that the beatdown with extra sauce he'd given Mirror Master when Cold caught him snorting coke was the stuff of Rogue legends, but before Owen could formulate the words, It. Hit.
"Jesus!" he gasped, clutching the table. "What ... what?!"
"I'm just stimulating your pleasure centers."
"Understatement." Owen felt like he wanted to sing and shout, the world seemed crisper, the colors more vibrant; it was like he could fly, like he could leap tall buildings in a single bound, like he could like he could take all of his clothes off right. fucking. now. He clawed at his jeans with twitching fingers while his heart beat triple time.
"You don't need to do this, Rex," he said through jittering teeth as a wave of shivers wracked his body.
Rex frowned thoughtfully. "I think it needs to be a little less like an adrenaline surge. I was actually going for something a bit like Ecstasy."
And it then was.
Okay, freaky weird, but better not to be shaking like he had chased a double dose of Sudafed with a quart of coffee.
"Hmm ... next time maybe an aerosol mist?" Rex mused almost distractedly.
"Look, just shut up and get over here, right?"
Rex flowed that was the only word for it around him. "Tetchy, aren't we?"
"Dude, you have no idea what this feels like."
"Actually, I think I do. I know how to manipulate the human nervous system quite "
Owen cut him off with a hungry kiss. "Molecules and science lesson later," He said when he came up for air. "Sex now."
Rex laughed.
And Owen's clothes just suddenly vanished "You're going to fix that later."
But there were deep wet kisses that tasted like strawberries and chocolate. "Mmm. Later. When I feel like it." and Rex flowed over and around and in him.
It was ...
getting his cock sucked
sucking cock
getting fucked
and all the while a thousand tiny hands stroked him, caressing him all over.
Everything, all at once, filled to the brim, too much and not enough. He begged for more, he begged for it harder and faster and harder
"Are you sure?" Rex whispered in his ear.
"Uh-uh," Owen said around the cockthing in his mouth. And a tiny rational portion of his brain said something about having sex with somebody who could have two cocks and make it feel like his mouth was on yours and still whisper in your ear at the same time was downright weird, but that voice didn't matter in the face of Owen's hunger, his all consuming need and the wonderful, dirty things that Rex could do to fill that need.
Because the pounding in his ass, the tension of being slammed full to the brim, the release of withdrawal, the jolt of being nailed right there, making it feel like his dick was being jacked from the inside as it got sucked from the outside, while his brain was swimming in all the chemicals of feeling fantastic, it was like ...
... it was almost like ...
... it was almost as good as ...
... that live-wire sliver of Speed he'd once had, that had been ripped from him the day the world changed and left him feeling half-alive when he reached for the place it once had been and found it empty.
And then Rex did that little extra push/suck/thrust/twitch thing and Owen came and came and came, and for one elusive moment he felt like he could reach out and it would be there, filling him with that incredible burst of incandescent life. Oh God, he wanted to live in that moment, have that rush of eternity, that feeling of molten joy surging through his body forever.
And then it was over and he and Rex were in bed, and Rex had come in his mouth and it tasted like raspberries and oranges ... and ... he felt like himself again, but happy. And maybe that was some of Rex floating around as chemicals in his brain, or maybe it was just the afterglow of a really fucking good orgasm. It wasn't a crash or a come down, except his body felt completely wrung out and he wanted to sleep. Oh, and Rex was still wrapped all over and around him, soft and easy like a woobie-blanket, and he only slowly flowed away and then propped himself up on an elbow and smiled down at Owen.
"Rex, that was ..." Owen couldn't find a way to complete the thought. There was no way to really explain it to somebody who had never had it, and Owen wasn't sure he was ready to share that part of himself with anybody else. He gave a somewhat shaky, loopy smile, and reached out with a finger that felt like a limp noodle and traced the lines and whorls on Rex's face, a legacy of Shift.
Rex tenderly bit at his finger and smiled. "You said be yourself." Pause. Then softly, hesitantly, "I hope I didn't freak you out too much."
"Yeah, but ... geez. I mean ... " Owen laughed, "I can't believe that all of this began with me making that old joke a few weeks back about the perfect lover being one who could turn into a pizza at 2am."
"I can turn into whatever, whoever you want," Rex said softly, his shape shifting through several members of the team.
Oh. Owen knew that Rex could, but he never thought .... "But why would you do that when what you are is all this? Because you, you're, well really different is an understatement and that's fine by me. I know, I mean, it's kind of what I signed on for when we started "
Rex snorted in amusement, "That's very sweet of you, Owen, but all of that is me, too. I can be anything. I can look like anyone. It's a shapeshift like any other, really, so why limit myself?"
"Well, maybe someday, when the shine of this wears off ... if it ever does."
Rex snuggled in to him and purred into his ear, "Oh come on, you know you want to 'go fuck yourself' next time Grace suggests it."
It took a moment for Owen's brain to wrap itself around the idea. He liked it. "You're a bad man, Mr. Mason," he laughed.
"I try."
"You certainly do." Pause. "Hopefully as often as possible."