This is a work of fiction any and all references to the actors who portray these characters are fiction, and in no way represent the true sexuality or personality of those actors. X-men and all its copy rights are property of marvel Inc. I have no hold over any of the rights except to those characters of my own creation. Additionally if man on man sexual activities are illegal where you are currently reading this, LOG OFF!

NOW!

And if any hot man sex is offensive to you then why the hell are you reading this? Hummm?

Now without any further delay, I am pleased to present:

 

May 23^rd 2002

Screaming.

Loud and angry their voices rose around me, always screaming.

"I have to go! The Professor said they need me, and I won't keep them waiting!" (Mama? Why are you mad mama?)

"What about James! He's your son too, and he is going to need a mother! You know I can't take care of him during the day!" (Daddy please! Please stop shouting!)

"The boy is old enough to be left alone. And besides he starts school in the fall! What is there to worry about?"

"He's only 5 years old for gods sake!"

"So what! Now get out of my way! I'm leaving so MOVE!" (Mama where are you going? Why are you leaving? Don't go Mama!)

 

"SARAAAHHH! Where are you?" I groaned as the sound of my father's slurred words continued into reality. "Please Sarah! Don't go! Don't leave me!" God no wonder I was having that dream if Joe is out there screaming about it. "SARA-"THUD. Perfect. He passed out in the living room again didn't he? Why, oh why can that man never make it to his bedroom?

Reaching over to my nightstand I graved my phone and turned on the screen. Friday 4:35 AM. Fuck.

"Uuuuhhh!" Resigned to the early wakeup call, I climbed out of bed. Stretching and moving three steps across my room to the door, I unlocked the dead bolt. Pulling open my door I was presented with a scene that would probably confuse most people. Lining the walls were all the normal furniture of al living room: couch, arm chair, TV stand, and a book case. (we used to have a rug and coffee table but I got rid of them when Joe kept falling on them) If you think a moment though, you will realize that this really the only way to arrange your furniture when your father is chronic fall down drunk. And then of course I forgot to mention the center piece, Joe. Sprawled out in the middle of the room, to add some trailer park class to the space. Hey maybe I should submit this picture to better homes and gardens. Or would that be `Better Parks and Trailers'?

Rolling my eyes I stepped around Joe to the bathroom, going through my morning routine. Pee, wash hands, fix hair, done. Pulling my hair up into a bun at the base of my neck I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused. It was HER face that looked back at me. Large violet eyes in a small, delicate face. Full mouth sitting above a stubborn chin and, that infuriatingly cute button nose. I flicked on the light and the image of my mother vanished. The differences between us were few, but noticeable enough. My face had more angles to it (thank god!) giving me a somewhat less feminine face, well at least you could tell that I'm a boy. And where she has blond hair and pale skin, I'm a permanent honey gold color, with long red, curly hair that ended mid back when curly and waist length when strait.

Strangely enough growing out my hair had not been intentional until last year, when I got my license in May. Before then I simply didn't have the resources to get to a barber on any kind of regular basis; and I learned quickly as a child that cutting your own hair was a VERY! bad idea. Now though I just like the way it looks, kind of like a lion's mane in color but with soft big curls. And when put in combo with my gold skin, and the feline shape to my face, it does make me look like a lion, and always puts Simba in my head. (yes. I am a Disney nerd)

Shaking my head at the laps into vanity my mind was taking, I went back out into the living room to get Joe. Grabbing him by one arm I briefly wondered where my coloring came from. After all, Joe may be a brunet, but he is just as pasty as my mother. Pulling him up I got one shoulder under his gut and stood with him in a firemen's carry. A shocking picture I'm sure, with Joe at 6'1" and 250ish and me at 5'7" and 160 soaking wet. Not that I don't have muscles or anything, because I do, in fact I'm sitting at about 9% body fat so I am quite fit. It's just that I could best be described as having a swimmers build and at worst (which I hear more often than not) as a twink or gym bunny. So logically speaking I should not have been able to lift him let alone carry him the 20 feet to his room, open the door, and toss him on to his bed like he weighed 50 pounds, instead of 250. But thanks to some wonderful mutant powers I had no problem with it. Didn't even break a sweat.

Closing Joe's door I went back across to my room and grabbed clean clothing out of my dresser. Quickly I changed from my sleep shorts to some wranglers and a plain black t-shirt, pulled on some socks and then faced my shoe dilemma. English, or western riding boots? I knew I would be riding western today but did I want my boots to match the saddle or not? After all I tried to avoid wearing my boots to school, but I was leading a trail ride right after today so there would be no time to change back in to the boots later. Sighing I resigned myself to the teasing I would get and pulled on the cowboy boots. Made of styled black leather, they are without a doubt the most comfy shoes I have ever owned.

Picking up my phone, keys, a hat, and a brown leather bomber I headed out the door to my jeep, locking up the house behind me. Climbing into my wrangler I checked for my backpack in the passenger seat and started her up. Pulling out of the drive way I turned the car towards the ranch and zoned out for the drive. Passing the gates to the Poe Ranch 10 minutes later kind of brought me around as I remembered the first time I saw the place.

I was 9 years old and my dad had just started drinking 24/7, and passing out all over the house, thanks to some kind of injury at his job he was now retired on disability. Looking for ways to stay out of the house as long as humanly possible I started going on walks, and one day I simply stumbled on to the ranch from the Harriman State Park where I had been that day. Tomas Poe, the owner, found me wandering and offered me $2 an hour to clean out stalls for him. Over the years he used me for cheap labor, and when the recession hit he traded me riding lessons for hard labor.

Tom became the only true friend I've ever had, and when I turned 12 and started to notice my powers coming out he was the one I turned to for help. Not that I could have hidden them all that well from him. Overnight I went from being hardly able to drag a hay bale to tossing them around like they were only 10 pounds or something. I decided that Tom was the only person who I really loved the day I told him.

"Well now Jay what do you mean by powers exactly?" He asked and upon hearing that I now had super strength, crazy endurance and senses so sharp that I could smell emotions on people and animals, his only response was. "Dam! I'm going to have to start actually paying you now aren't I?" By the end of that year I wasn't just riding for fun anymore, but teaching lessons and training his new horses. My ability to sent emotions gave me an insight over how the horses and riders were going to perform on any given day. And over time I developed the ability to project my own emotions on to the non-dominant horses, effectively calming excited horses or getting them to want to learn new things.

With the combo of a raise in pay ($10 an hour) and the commissions I made off the horses I trained and Tom sold I was finally making enough money to buy my own food, and get anything I could want or need for myself...or school. Needless to say I went a little crazy for a year or so until I got smart and started saving up my money. Pulling up to the barn I smiled at the memory of that year, and all the dumb shit I bought.

"Is that you Jay-Bird?" Tom's voice came out of the barn and I glanced at the clock on my dash 5:20. "Get in here will ya? I could use some help with the morning feed!"

"Alright I'm coming!" I shouted as I hoped down from my jeep and walked in to the barn. "What are you rushing for old crow? Don't you know the customers don't get here till 1?" His laughter rolled out of the second stall on my left as I walked through the barn doors. Moving over I peered in at him. "Is Sapphire ok?" Looking up at me from a crouch next to a small chestnut arabian mare was a thin scarecrow of a man with short black hair that managed to point in every direction at once, and soft black eyes that smiled more often than his mouth did.

"Oh she's fine. Just missing a shoe is all." He chuckled at me and made a slow shoo motion with one hand. "Now go feed my pretties so I can call the fairer." I smiled and shook my head before walking off to the feed room. "With any luck we might get him here before the ride today."

"Ha! You know good and well that man won't come out at short notice! I swear he needs a week at least to prepare." I was shouting so Tom could hear me but his voice never went above his normal soft tones. Knowing how good my hearing is he doesn't waist energy shouting things at me. An effort I appreciated. All that noise was hard to handle some times. "You want me to put Sapph in the pasture today instead of Ruby? `Cus with her down we'er going to need Ruby for that ride today."

"Hmm. Might as well. You can put her out with Gem and the boarders. But I don't want that best of yours out there! If you want him to stretch his legs before the group today then you're going to have to ride him!" Getting the right amount of oat filled buckets into each of Tom's girls' stalls I glared.

"Pompeii is not a monster! He is just a little...big." I shrugged.

"Big? Hon 16 hands is big for a gypsy! Your guy is 18 and a half hands for crying out loud! If that ayn't a giant then I would hate to see one."

"Whatever man! Just `cus you love these dainty arabian things doesn't not mean everyone else does." He chuckled again and came out of Sapphire's stall grabbing another bucket of oats from the feed room with me. (like Tom I always laid out all the buckets before leaving the room) "And besides I was planning a ride anyway. So there!"

"Well then you should get him tacked up Jay. You only have an hour and a half before school starts and that boy can go almost as long as you can." I rolled my eyes, and headed off toward the back of the barn.

"Yah, yah, old crow." The sound of his laugh carried down the row behind me, making me smile again. As I approached Pompeii's stall he stuck his head over the side and whinnied at me. "Hello to you to Po. What do you say to a ride around the ring hum? Would you like that boy?" I rubbed his nose and cheek as he gave a snort of agreement. Less than 10 minutes later I had Po saddled and out by the arena. I made a quick stop at the gate to the arena, flipping a switch, the stadium type lights came on reviling the sand and white fence of the dressage ring. "Alright then Po after you." I beckoned and Po, ham that he is, pranced through the gate like a show stallion. Following him through, I laughed at his behavior and closed the gate.

Mounting up on Po always proved a somewhat interesting problem. After all he is over half a foot taller than me at the shoulder. But over the past 3 years of our relationship we developed a workable system. Pulling down on his reins Po kneeled on his front legs letting me climb on at a reasonable height. Standing up again we started around the ring at a walk.

3 years ago the ASPCA had called Tom about a horse they needed fostered for what they believed would only be a few days until they could find a permanent home for him. Tom being the softy that he is agreed instantly, and two hours later one much hassled volunteer showed up at the ranch with a horse trailer that was taking the beating of a life time. You could see hoof prints in the metal, he hit so hard. Knowing my way with animals Tom sent me into the front of the trailer to back the horse out, while he and the volunteer waited in the back to guide the him down. Opening the side door and slipping in to the trailer I came face to face with the largest horse I had ever seen. And like so many of the Disney movies I watch, it was love at first sight. Thankfully Po felt the same way I did because I don't think I would have been able to get him to move if he hadn't wanted to help me. When we got him cleaned up we discovered a dappled grey gypsy vanner stallion under, what was probably, years of dirt.

Almost before we were done settling him in a stall the ASPCA people were back with a vet. And Po, being his normal charming self, proceeded to attempt trampling the poor woman to death. He got in a few good kicks to the stall door but never managed to land one on the vet, apparently she has become an export dodger over the years. Giving him a clean bill of health, though slightly under-fed, she then fled from the ranch like the hounds of hell were chasing after her. Over the next few weeks the ASPCA brought two more people to come and look at Po as potential owners; but after two broken fences, one kicked out wall, a broken arm, and an incident involving a truck that is still a crumpled heap of metal sitting just outside the pasture fence line, the ASPCA people simply gave him to me. And one week after he officially became mine Tom made a comment about how "the gypsy must be some kinda reincarnated volcano" between his ash colored coat and the violent outburst. The other two hands at the time began to compare him to different eruptions over time and eventually decided on Pompeii, because it was the most unexpected, and probably the most violent. Somehow the name just stuck.

Kicking Po into a trot I had to agree with the analogy. There was nothing quite as exhilarating, or frightening, as having two thousand+ pounds of angry muscle moving underneath you. And as a witness to some of the more spectacular tantrums he through, I can tell you that he does indeed resemble an angry volcano god reincarnated. So yah Pompeii is a good fit for him.

Moving from trot to canter, our breaths began to steam in the morning air, and I started to wonder just how cold it was outside. Not that I could feel it anyways. I'd been running a temp of 103.5 for the past month or so. The jacket I wore today was just for show. Didn't want people to start questioning why I was walking around in a t-shirt in the middle of a New York fall. My train of thought derailed when we moved to a gallop, as it always did. Heart pounding, I laughed and Po neighed.

Feel free to tell me what you all thought about the first chapter. Contact me through mrgood447 at gmail.

p.s. Apologies for a slow start in these first few chapters, but I wanted to set up a good background story before I got distracted with the yummy man action to come.