"Close yer eyes, Slim," Logan whispered. He removed the red quartz glasses from Scott's face.
"Wolverine, give them back," Scott demanded.
"Nope." Scott heard tape unrolling and a rustle of fabric. "Hold still."
"Logan!" Scott felt the tape secure his eyes and wondered how exactly he'd gotten into this situation. Then, Logan kissed him gently in apology.
"Sorry, Slim," Logan whispered. He sniffed at the shirt. So that's where that flannel had disappeared to.
Scott's fingers ran lightly up Logan's arms and rested on his shoulder. Logan always enjoyed Scott without his glasses, even though he knew the panic that caused. In the mansion it wasn't as it was out here in the woods. He could hear the pounding heart.
He carefully put his arm around Scott's waist to lead him further into the woods. Scott was lost within seconds. There were too many conflicting sounds and smells. He knew he was trembling because Logan's arm tightened around his waist. They could have gone yards or miles, Scott was completely disoriented by the time they stopped.
"Logan? Where are we?"
"From what? I want my glasses."
"Can't have 'em. Left 'em half a mile back in an old tree."
"Logan?" The panic was beyond mild now. Logan kissed Scott once more in an attempt to soothe him.
"Trust me. I ain't gonna let ya get hurt."
"Logan, this isn't a joke."
"No, it ain't. Thing is those shades are half a mile back and fer you that's gonna be impossible to find. Ya ain't got a choice right now. Yer the one that asked fer this."
"I know, but. . . "
"Ya wanna back out?"
"No, I'm just. . ."
"Scared to death?"
"Said ya were sick of bein' in control. Just relax, Slim. I may scare the Hell out of ya, but I ain't gonna hurt ya. . . much."
"You are so comforting." Scott felt something inside loosen a notch. Logan stroked Scott's back slowly until Scott's heart slowed. He tugged off the flannel.
"Didn't think you were the thief of the family." Scott smirked. "Hands behind yer back, Babe."
"Ya heard me. Do it." Scott complied slowly. Soft leather embraced his wrists with a metal clink. He frowned and felt for the cuff. He found a wide band of metal lined with leather. He pulled against the firm grip. "Keys to these're with yer shades. I should leave 'em on and take ya back to the mansion." Scott shook his head in denial and Logan laughed.
The Canadian made short work of stripping Scott to his skin. He shredded the tee-shirt easily. The play of shadows and light through the canopy of leaves highlighted the smooth muscles. Logan took his time just looking. Scott tried to stay still, but couldn't help trying to cover himself. Logan grinned as the firmly pinned arms strained at the cuffs. He stepped forward and cupped Scott's groin.
"Oh, shit." Scott gasped. "Warn me."
Logan chuckled as Scott squirmed. "On yer knees, Slim," he growled. Scott complied, surprised when Logan's hand didn't move. "Yer gonna suck me and I'm gonna drive you crazy if ya do a good job. Got it?" Scott nodded. The warmth of Logan's hand disappeared. A firm hand tangled in his hair and pulled his head forward. He could smell the woods in Logan's scent. The hard flesh nudged his lips and his tongue flicked out to taste it.
His gut twisted as old, half-forgotten memories swam up. He took Logan's cock into his mouth and felt it swell impressively in approval. He tasted the length of his salt and sugar and metal flavored skin. He buried the memories under sensation. This wasn't some nameless, faceless twenty dollar bill. This was Logan. He knew Logan. He'd fucked him. He'd sucked him. He'd been fucked and sucked and jerked off by this man for years.
But it was different when there was no way to look up and see those crystal eyes watching him, dilated wide from pleasure. There was no way to tell the fingers in his hair from the fists that used to hit him. Scott worked diligently at his task. Flavors burst on his tongue. Sugar from Logan's beer. Salt from Logan's sweat. Something sharp and bitter that could have been adamantium from his bones or steel from the zipper he could feel against his chin. Something heady and primal that was Logan himself lay under it all.
The short curls tickled Scott's nose and swept the musk of Logan's arousal to him. The hand made it impossible for him to tease the satin covered balls like he wanted to. His hands stained against their bonds to touch and reassure himself that this wasn't some bizarre dream.
The cock tightened and Scott sucked hard. He swallowed all the juice he could, but he felt a trickle of it run down his chin. A rough fingertip scooped it up and back into his mouth as Logan slid free. He cleaned off the finger and was rewarded with a kiss. Fire burned through Scott's veins. Gentle hands led him to soft cotton scattered with leaves. He was pushed down to his knees once more.
Stiff leather surrounded his ankles, hobbling him. Fear whispered in his ear. Are you sure he won't hurt you? No hands to grasp. No feet to kick. No way to get away if you had either.
"Just me, Slim. Trust me," Logan soothed. "Just don't want ya runnin' off." Scott could hear the smile in that voice. "Ya did real good, Scotty."
A hot, wet tongue traced up the center of Scott's chest. It circled around his left nipple, just above his heart. Scott moaned at the stimulation. "Logan," he started, then trailed off unable to think of anything to say.
"Trust." Scott's resistance fled. Logan pressed him down onto the soft blanket. Pre-planning always pays off. Scott squirmed until his was laying on his side. Hands bound behind him would be far too uncomfortable. He could smell the leaves that never really fully decayed. He could feel the sun on his body in patches. He could feel it on his face. He turned his face towards the sun to catch it more fully.
Logan caught his breath at the sight laid out before him. Bound hand and foot, but not seeming to care, Scott sought the sun like a flower. His hair was tinted red in the gentle light. His body was perfectly proportioned and honed. He never tanned, never burned. His skin glowed in the shadows that the trees cast. A tribal style phoenix tattoo graced his pelvis and Logan remembered the night after the Phoenix had stepped into the laser. He remembered the brittle-hard body that had sought him with the mindless need for protection from the fucking goddamned cruel world that gave him joy and stole it, over and over again. He remembered hard fists and harder words and the silent begging to be controlled.
His eyes traced battle-scars over the young man's ribs. Not as young anymore. Not as hopeful. No, his Cyke wasn't a kid trying to prove himself, he was a soldier, a colonel. He was a man who held everything in his world in a death-grip daring them to leave him again. Logan could smell the wounds that hadn't scarred over. The ones that no one took the time to see – not even Jeannie, who had him every night. Jeannie who had gone off to London with Betsy on a whim and left Scott fairly wailing at the loss of her steadying presence.
Logan's hands were blunt and calloussed. He wasn't gentle like Hank, or Ororo. His fingers were square and hard. His palms were rough from the time he spent in the woods. He wasn't pretty. He was coarse and hairy and heavy. He unsheathed his claws and watched Scott restrain the tremble. It was comfortable between them, an old routine. He brushed metal against metal and the sound was just below the shifting leaves. Scott's adam's apple bobbed convulsively as he forced himself not to move.
The warm metal felt good against rapidly cooling skin. Scott held still as the claws carved him out of the woods around them. It was like being made new, a benediction of sorts. His breath sped and he licked his lips, suddenly more than eager for what would follow. Logan followed the rush of blood with the flat of his claws, gently outlining Scott's jaw. He pressed a gentle kiss to Scott's mouth and was welcomed in. He pulled in his claws. Scott pulled at the bonds on his wrists, wanting to grab and pull and hold. He couldn't spread his legs in invitation, the cuffs were joined too closely. "Logan," he whispered, a smile on his lips.
"Right here, Scott."
"No." Logan took his time, exploring the soft skin. Scott attended with soft pleas and the occasional yelp of laughter. He was wriggling in his restraints, not caring that he couldn't see his lover. By this point, he'd have had his eyes closed anyhow. Jean refused to blindfold him. She thought it implied her trust in him. Logan took the decision and the knot of tension in Scott's forehead away. Logan kissed each eye, then dropped another kiss to the warm lips. His hand slid between the cheeks of Scott's ass and Scott sucked in a breath. Logan took his time stroking and lubing the passage. It had been a long time and Scott was just about as tight as his first time. He was eager for it though and Logan had to grin as Scott tried to thrust back into his probing fingers. He placed a hand on Scott's hip. "Stop that or I will." Scott pouted.
Logan was soon thrusting in with three fingers and Scott's hips were moving, his cock hard and ready. Logan slicked his cock and settled behind his sometimes lover and gathered him close guiding the rock hard penis into the quivering ring of muscle. He stopped letting Scott get used to him inch by inch. Scott's hands were fisted in and attempt not to come. "Logan, hurry."
"Slow down, One-eye. Plenty of time."
"For you. Oh, God, you're killing me, Runt."
"Naw. Ya can handle it." Scott whimpered low in his throat and Logan surged forward. He stopped there, fully seated and wrapped his palm around Scott's cock. Scott was hot and tight and Logan nuzzled at his shoulder, leaving a sharp bite that would serve as a reminder that Logan would never be tamed. He moved his hand and Scott moaned. He pulled back and thrust lazily into Scott's body. Scott sighed, low and soft and needy. Logan gave in and sped the pace. He stroked and stroked as he thrust and Scott came in his grip. His body gripped Logan's with frightening intensity and Logan howled as he came. He lifted his hand slowly to Scott's lips and pressed it there until the hesitant licks cleaned him.
Scott had never tasted himself before. It was an odd experience, like something familiar that was strangely canted to the side. He tasted Logan's sweat and skin beneath the new flavor and smiled against the hand. He was so tired. He dozed, tongue working automatically as Logan worked one finger, then two into his mouth for cleaning.
Logan pulled Scott closer to him and held him as he slept. He smiled against the boneless shoulder. "I love ya, Slim," he whispered softly. He knew he'd never have the guts to say it to the man's face. Scott fell deeper asleep and Logan hoped he'd only remember blissful sex and freedom for a little while, from the pressure he fought so hard to keep balanced.
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