Short characters descriptions:
Scott was a dark-skinned, bald man with fists the size of his own head (which Todd often joked was quite big, thought in fact it looked rather small on his huge body).
Todd himself wasn't small, with tanned skin and close-shaved dark hair. He was a twin blades wielder thought his defining trait was dexterity, with both hands and feet. Before he'd met the professor, he just used that skill to survive without really looking after himself; but now that he was here, Scott had been assigned to help him take care of his 'assets'. That meant the boxer wrapped his hands and feet in bandages at least twice a day, and Todd took perverse pleasure in undoing them again and again.
Todd is a mutant. He's just really agile with his hands and feet, and he used that advantage to survive alone in the street since he was a kid. Except that short period of his life that he didn't remember... What had he been doing then? Did something important happen to make him forget about it? … Oh well, what did it matter. As long as he survived...
That was, until he was taken in by Professor Charles Xavier, Prof X to his friends and students. The man was fond of lost causes, it seemed, as he'd gathered every wayward mutant this side of the Atlantic (and even a few from the other side).
And now here is Todd, backed up against a bed by a 6.2 feet tall guy with hands large enough to easily fit Todd's whole face in one (and Todd is starting to wonder if the guy – Scott – isn't actually considering it) and his twin blades slipping from his suddenly sweaty hands that he holds up in a show of peace, thought Scott isn't deterred in the least and keeps advancing until he's pushed Todd flat on his back and is kneeling on all four above him.
Todd gulps as the man's huge hands encircle his fragile wrists and press them (however gently) to the soft mastress.
A soft growl rumbles from Scott's throat and Todd whimpers, finally looking away from angry scarlet eyes to trail down a strong neck with bulging tendons, flat breasts with the nipples just peeking beneath the tight tank top that hides not an inch of the impressive six-pack, and-- yeah, Todd's not gonna look any lower. He was avoiding the guy's eyes, not checking him out.
« Are you done playing around yet? » Scott asks, in a voice so low and smoky that Todd swears he can smell sulfur on his breath, and he's about to shriek a docile ''Yessir'' when suddenly something grabs at his chest and /pulls/. Painfully.
His mouth opens on a gasp and he only has time to notice that Scott's eyes have gone from narrowed-down-in-anger to wide-open-in-surprise before his agile hands close on air and they're both sucked throught the mastress and into another dimension.
When he comes too, it's to Scott groaning from Todd's weight landing on him after their mighty fall and the sounds and feel of a tropical forest around them.
He looks up, shakes his head and rubs his eyes, looks again, and scrabbles off of Scott's lap while he's at it. The pain in his chest is but an ache now but its lingering proves that he did not just imagine it and the uncanny sense of familiarity makes him frown.
« Where the heck are we? » Scott asks, his ridiculously large hands smoothing the grass at his sides in an unchecked show of nervousness.
Todd looks around again, and suddenly, he remembers. This is-
« Home. » the small voice of a 6-years-old Todd answers, now sitting in the pile of his too-large clothes and the bandages that Scott had so painstakingly wrapped around his hands and feet and that he'd taken such perverted pleasure in undoing now laying around him in bundles of fabric.
From the trees surrounding them emerges the biggest baboons they have ever seen, and baby-Todd's yelp of delight is cut off when Scott scoots him up with one hand and brings him protectively to his chest, assuming a defensive position in front of the huge primates.
Todd wails once, and the baboons strike.