This is in response to Maria Cline・s naked
"Ooohhh." The moan emerged from beneath a pile of blankets. A moment later the sound was followed by a tousled head. Rolling over, Scott Summers squinted at the clock sitting on the bedside table through his ruby red sleep goggles, and groaned again. It was almost noon, making it exactly two days since he・d fallen victim to the nasty flu bug going around.
He felt alternately hot, then cold, then hot again, and couldn・t stop sweating. All of his joints ached unpleasantly, and his head felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton, making it a little difficult to think. He・d stopped throwing up as of earlier that morning, mostly due to the fact that there was nothing left in his stomach, so that was good, but he still felt fairly queasy.
Oh, boy, was he ever thirsty.
He started to reach for the glass of water sitting next to the clock, but found it empty. He vaguely remembered draining it sometime around 3:00 am, and not replenishing it on his next trip to the bathroom.
Scott flopped back onto the bed for a moment, weighing his need for something to drink against the pervading weakness in his limbs that urged him to stay put.
"Ugh," he muttered, finally deciding in favour of the drink. Gathering all of his remaining strength, he hoisted himself out of the bed, and stood beside it for a long moment to wait for his head to stop spinning. Out from beneath the protection of his stack of blankets, he began to shiver, and so swiped the top blanket and dragged it along behind him as he stumbled out into the hallway, toward the stairs.
"So, like, then these cops come out of no . . . where . . ." Jubilee was bouncing up the stairs along side Logan who was listening to her with his usual air of affectionate amusement, when the pair came into sight of Scott. The young girl・s voice trailed off and her eyes bugged out a second before Logan clapped his hands over them. In the back of his fogged head, the sick man wondered absently at their odd behaviour, but he wasn・t overly bothered by it. He was focused on getting himself a tall glass of refreshingly cold water from the fridge. The mere thought of the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat made him want to groan with pleasure.
Twisting out of Wolverine・s grasp, Jubilee got an eyeful of Cyclops・ bare behind before the man turned the corner and was out of sight.
* * * *
Rogue was just emerging from the kitchen as Scott reached the door way. At the sight of him, she stopped dead in her tracks, mouth hanging open, an apple halted halfway to her mouth. She blinked her large green eyes dazedly for a couple of moments as Scott acknowledged her with a small nod of his head, then pushed by her into the large well lit room beyond, the blinked them dazedly for a few moments longer before turning around and heading back into the kitchen.
Hank, Bobby, and Remy sat at the kitchen table in dead silence, all eyes trained on the man rooting around in the fridge. Each had a sandwich in front of them, or in their hands, but no one was eating. Rogue slipped back into the room, and stood next to the door, also watching the team leader.
Scott, apparently unconcerned by the presence of the other people, retrieved the large pitcher of water from the top shelf of the fridge, and set it on the counter. Trailing his blanket behind him, he padded across to a cupboard and got a glass.
There was still no sound from the other X-Men.
Logan, this time without Jubilee along, walked into the room, and stood next to Rogue, all without saying a word.
Oblivious to the fact that he was the center of attention, Scott poured the water into the glass, misjudging and spilling a bit, before setting down the pitcher and lifting the glass to his lips. Tossing back his head, he drained the entire glass in one, long gulp and slammed it down on the counter.
Leaving the empty glass and water where they sat, Scott gathered up his blanket and silently left the kitchen.
Remy, Hank, and Bobby looked at each other, and Rogue looked at them all. Logan didn・t look at anyone.
"Scott . . ." Bobby started, then allowed his voice to die away.
"Uh, our esteemed leader was . . ." Hank began, then left the sentence to hang.
Logan didn・t say anything.
Rogue looked at them all, then burst out, "Scotty was as nekkid as the day he was born!"
"Oui." Remy agreed.
* * * *
No longer thirsty, Scott stumbled back to his room, the foggy feeling in his head intensifying. Thankfully, he dropped his blanket on the floor, and crawled back into bed, pulling the rest of his bed linens over himself.
Within seconds he was asleep.
* * * *
An hour later, the heavy wood door to his room quietly swung open, and Jean popped her head in. Seeing her husband was asleep, she slid the rest of the way into the room, bringing with her a grocery bag. He had been sleeping when she had gone out for ginger ale and apple juice, since he had been unable to keep anything else down for the past couple of days, and she assumed he had not woken up during her absence.
Setting the bag down on the floor, the redhead moved over to the side of the bed, and felt Scott・s forehead. It felt as though his fever had come down a bit.
It was then that she noticed the pyjama top slung over a lamp on the other side of the room. As she looked around, she also saw bottoms crumpled up in the corner, which meant . . .
Scott was naked under the covers.