GENRE: fluff
WARNINGS: none.
NOTES: this is for @maybankx who wanted more warren!! also to my lovelies @mximm @ineeda and hpthalia!! there will definitely be a part 2. ive been trying to finish like 3 different warren imagines but idk where they're going. feel free to request something specific!

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Sweeping your leg, you knocked Warren's weight, causing him to stumble and fall backwards. Before he could land on the floor like you'd hoped, his wings began to flap in large gusts, prompting you to move back as he landed on his feet once more.

He threw a punch at your gut, but you hopped back, him missing you by a good inch. He powered forward still, his knee lifting up to get you underneath the ribs, but upon impact, he was hit with a powerful jolt of electricity. Unable to handle it, he stumbled back collapsing onto his knees in pain. The breath had been knocked from your lungs at his attack - - you leant over with your hands on your knees, taking in deep breaths so that you could recover before the boy could get any ideas.

After months of Warren being your training partner, you assumed he'd get used to your powers at some point, but luckily for you, he hadn't. It's not to say that you were a sadist and enjoyed his pain, it was just that Warren was incredibly infuriating, and you think he deserved a good few punches.

Once you could finally breath again, you raised your eyes to look at Warren, who was still recovering. Before you could let your thoughts become concerned for him, you charged at him, taking a swing that he seemed to notice at the last moment.

He blocked it with his forearm, clambering to his feet as he continued to fight off your punches. Eventually, he grew tired of your offensive. He tried for an uppercut, but he was too slow - - and then one at your face, but you caught his fist in your hand.

Warren was close to you know, watching the curved smile that pulled onto your lips. You huffed out, adrenaline still coursing through you as you looked toward his eyes. They were a chilling blue, and were darting all over your face, as if searching for something. When his gaze met yours again, it looked like he was going to say something. Your heart was thumping, and you weren't sure if it was just the work out.

"Alright, that's enough, you two," Mystique remarked, causing the both of you to be snapped from your strange moment.

He dropped your hand, and you immediately covered it with your other, running fingers over the heated skin that he'd just touched. You nodded and cleared your throat, "Yes, m'am," you said, a hint of a smile evident in your words.

She let out a laugh, shaking her head at your antics as she rounded the rest of the kids up to end the sparring session for the day.

What you didn't notice, however, was that Warren could only look at you for her entire closing speech.

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"Okay, realistically," Jubilee emphasized, "If you could marry one movie heartthrob, who would it be?" Jubilee asked curiously, peering over the top of teen magazine she'd gotten on the last trip they'd had to the mall. She'd always been an inquisitive person, so no one thought too much of it, especially with how many times you'd all gone to the movies lately.

Ever since Charles let the teenagers go to the mall with permission, you practically went every weekend. It was a nice break from being stuck inside the manor, and it made you feel kinda normal.

Jean had to think for a second, tilting her head where she lay on her bed, humming.

You sat on the other end with a journal in your hand, doing a project for art class. You didn't take long to answer, "Someone like Matt Dillon! He's so handsome." While it sounded dramatic, you had said it quite plainly, not looking up from where you sketched.

Your friends couldn't help but laugh at your quick reply, Jubilee practically choking on her gum while Jean rolled her eyes.

"C'mon," the red-head spoke, "We all saw that one coming! You practically have a crush on the same guy every time," She said knowingly, leaning back against her pillows.

You scoffed, "I do not!" You retorted, now looking between your friends with disbelief. You refused to believe that people could read you that easily, but it made sense considering they knew you better than you knew yourself.

"I mean . . . you have to admit that you love a bad boy," Jubilee countered with a raised brown, perfectly arched.

You suddenly felt yourself getting hot in the face, realizing that she was right in a way. You always liked a darker, more ethically ambiguous man. You liked guys who dressed in dark clothes and heavy boots and listened to thrasher music. Or, if it was movies, you loved a good bounty hunter or vagabond. But then again, you'd never really been with enough people to say you had a definitive type.

"That's not real life stuff, though," You shrugged, trying to play it off, and in a way, convince yourself.

"Tell that to Warren," Jean said with a breathy laugh, and suddenly, your stomach exploded with butterflies.

You couldn't hide your pink cheeks as you stuttered out, "W-Well . . . what does that mean?" No one had ever really implied that to you before, and now your head was racing with thoughts. Warren? You didn't know why her saying that made you so itchy and nervous. You practiced with each other every day, but you were more like co-workers. In fact, you sparred a lot, which meant you were kind of antagonistic to each other. You were known to have a back and forth in class, and Mystique definitely knew.

Jubilee let out a surprised sound, "As if you don't realize," She said, as if it was obvious.

You could practically feel your heart beating in your ears.

Jean seemed to notice how freaked out you were - - either that, or she heard your jumbled thoughts. She stepped in: "Everyone kind of thinks you're going to get together-"

"Or that you already are," Jubilee added with a laugh, knowing very well that wasn't true. But rumors spread, just like they always tended to.

"- - Well, he likes you at the very least," Jean finished.

"No ways, guys!" You squeaked, cheeks hued in a subtle pink that they immediately noticed. Your stomach was filled with butterflies despite yourself. It was undeniable that you and him had really good chemistry, but you mostly out-putted that through fights and banter. You'd never just sat with him and spoken to him normally - - and you had a feeling that it was partially that way because you were too scared to get any closer. Your boundaries were fine where they were, honestly.

Warren was all dark, thrashed clothing, and worn combat boots. He was unbearably heavy music, and echoing guitars, and harsh words. He wasn't friendly on the surface, but he was loyal to the bone. The classic bad boy archetype (even despite his angelic looks and mutation) that you'd come to know from movies. And maybe, it was insanely attractive - - even if he did drive you crazy.

And maybe, your friends were right. It wasn't often that you liked to tell them that, though.

________________

Warren was beginning to realize something that wasnt exactly easy for him to face head on. The feelings that always bubbled around you weren't filled with any sort of actual malice that he could discern - - and after a while of hanging out together with mutual friends, he maybe even though that he really liked you, actually. And of course, you'd mistake all of his teasing and compliments for antagonism and backhanded insults - - but he meant all of it. He meant it when he said you looked cute when you were all riled up. And he meant it when he offered you begrudging help and, and asked your friends how you were.

It was a new feeling for him, really. There was never anything in him that wanted to take that step into the unknown, and totally put it all on the line to be with someone - - but every day he was starting to think it'd be easier with you. Sure, the two of you fought all the time, but it was never real, was it? You weren't enemies by any means.

Not when you spent more time training together than with anyone else, and you never truly insulted one another, and by some people's estimation - - they saw you fighting off smiles around the other, way more than around anyone else. At that point, many people had pointed out that your arguments were more like flirting with extra layers, than anything else.

Warren was interrupted in his train of thought by you sitting down at the table that he and Scott shared in the courtyard. Scott had his head buried in a science textbook as he tried to finish an extra credit report for Professor McCoy.

You noticed his stressed fervour, raising an eyebrow as you looked to Warren for an explanation. He just shrugged, trying to hide the way he watched you re-tie your hair. And he thought it was solemnly unfair that you managed to look that attractive while doing something so mundane.

He cleared his throat, looking away as you greeted the boy beside you. "Hey, Scotty. What you doing?" You asked curiously, looking over to see the information that he was scribbling down.

He lifted his head to looked at you, surprised to see that you were quite close to him, flushing when you rested your head on his shoulder, still peering down at the pages before him. "Uh, I've gotta finish this bogus science paper before the day ends," He murmured, half-consciously.

It wasn't unusual for you to be affectionate with people every now and again: particularly with close friends like him. Although Scott was still pretty bashful about it, he'd often show it back, because it had always been like that between you. He liked it.

Warren was not at all used to it, however - - being a new addition to your friendship circle. He watched on with a slight malice, wanting to bite back the jealousy that filled him when he saw it. Not because he owned you in any sense of the word, and neither did Scott. But he still wanted to be the one you shared those little things with. Gentle touches, and subtle affection that couldn't help but spill over.

He found himself looking down, playing with the frayed strands of his black skinny jeans, while he drowned out the few words you exchanged with Scott. Honestly, he felt scared, and embarrassed that he felt the way he did. But he couldn't help it when it was you.

"Hey, Warren?" He heard your warm voice, and he immediately looked up to see you. You didn't really have to try, for him to find you beautiful. He'd thought it since he'd met you. "You okay?" You followed up, eyes glimmering with a tender concern at how silent he had been since you arrived (apparently not even trying to hide your lack of hatred for him). Usually, you'd have received a few snarky remarks by then already.

He noticed that you'd moved away from the other boy, your arms resting on the table as you leaned toward him in interest, awaiting his answer. Suddenly, his heart was thumping, and he stumbled to find something to say, before it looked like he was staring, "Yeah, I'm good." And the fact that you genuinely seemed to be worried about him was making him feel dizzy.

"As eloquent as ever," You rolled your eyes, though it came off more fond than anything as you moved to rest your head in your hands. You could never get over how much his voice drove you insane.

"What do you want from me?" Warren chuckled, shaking his head, "Should I turn my answer into a sonnett next time?" He teased.

"Since when do you pay attention enough in class to know what a sonnett is?" You replied, though you knew better than anyone how smart Warren really was. Though, he didn't really pay attention in class as much as he should have (and had a reputation for it), you didn't know it was because more often than not, his mind was trapped on you. Or if you were in his class, he'd be caught up in sneaking glances, or trying to ignore your presence (which only ended up screwing him over even more, more often than not).

Warren wanted to say that it was because you weren't around to distract him as much in that class - - but decided against it as he shrugged noncommittally.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

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You and Warren were left alone in the common room, sitting as far apart as possible on one couch. Although Jean and Scott had been with you before, they had left to help Kurt with something unknown to you.

Deciding to suck it up and talk to him, you offered him your most trying smile, "I mean, we have to have one thing in common . . . what about music?" You suggested, turning to face him slightly, with your one leg angled up on the couch.

"Well, anything that sounds angry is good enough for me," He admitted with a slight chuckle, stretching his arm out across the back of the couch. At your distance, he was centimeters from being able to touch your shoulder. His other hand went to hold his own face slightly, a ring clad thumb running against his own lip subconsciously as he thought about it.

"That can't be how you choose music!" You rolled your eyes, but bit down on your lip to ignore the way your stomach filled with butterflies at just how handsome he looked, "Sure, Metallica is angry, but there's more to it than that!"

On any other occasion, Warren probably would've agreed with whoever was saying that. But you weren't just anyone, and he couldn't help but antagonize you just a bit: "If there is, then I don't hear it."

"You're insufferable," You huffed immediately, making him break out into a genuine smile, a chuckle tumbling from his mouth in that tone that you'd grown accustomed to quite liking. You didn't know when it started, but it was obvious to you by then.

"I try," He admitted, his blue eyes flickering over you, as if he'd forgot that you could see him. Though you could, and you immediately felt your face become warm with a blush under his cascading gaze. He thought it looked just so pretty on you.

You thought for a moment, tilting your head as you came up with another question to break the ice, "Well, what about movies? That's gotta be interesting."

"Not really. . ." He told you, trailing off as he looked away from you. His hand had fallen to his lap, resting against his thigh as he became more intent on inspecting, than admitting any truths to you. He found it difficult to tell people anything he liked, or held close to his heart. He didn't know if it was to protect himself, or because he just didn't care to. There must have been a reason, but he wasn't willing to unpack it just yet.

"Like what, Archangel?" You prompted, obviously annoyed that he hadn't provided any examples as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Warren had always liked how short your fuse was with him, and yet you were naturally so patient and kind. There was something that drove both of you toward each other, and he was just hoping it was the same reason for you.

"I don't know. . . Star Wars," He told you, shrugging like he couldn't come up with anything, his hands flourishing in his confusion as he empahaiszed his words.

"Oh my God, really?" You laughed, and he couldn't help but crack a smile in reply, and also the fact that you'd naturally shifted closer to him in excitement. He knew he wasn't the usual type of guy that liked that stuff, but the way your eyes lit up made him not really care about that anymore. "I loved the recent one," You told him.

"Are you kidding? It was horrible. You can't even compare it to the others," He almost immediately combatted, scoffing in disdain. Of course, he couldn't just have the same opinion as you, without causing a little trouble.

"I mean, yeah, it's the worst one. But it's still good compared to some other stuff that's out right now," You shrugged, annoyed with his ability to be so non-surplus about everything. It must have been tiring to not give a shit all the time.

"I guess so . . ." He trailed off in thought, looking down at the floor as he pondered just when he started enjoying your interactions so much.

"Did you . . . just agree with me?" Your lips parted in shock, and his head snapped up at your words, holding back the thoughts that so desperately wanted to lean in and kiss them.

God, ever since he'd noticed he liked you, it was all he could think about. And his usual attitude, and the way you combated it seemed to only be exacerbated - - him noticing how much your prettiness was excentuated by your flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes.

"Oh, shut up," Warren rolled his eyes, though it sounded more affectionate than he probably intended, "Don't go getting used to it! You're still annoying," He remarked, though he couldn't help the way he grinned.

"Oh, yeah?" You asked, tilting your head as your vision met his.

"Yeah."