Logan strode through the halls of the Mansion, surprised when there was no one there to greet him. Even the professor seemed to be out of the house. He went to security room. Remy was holding up a beer for him before he could speak. "Welcome back, mon ami."
"Where is everyone?"
"Warren, Betsy, Rogue, and Bobby be in Wisconsin stoppin' a FOH rally. Jean, de Professeur, an' Hank be in Scotland wit' Moira. She got a development she want dem t' see. Jubes an' Sam be at de mall. Bishop and Stormy be on deir day off in de City. Dey be on call. Po' Remy be in charge of makin' sure dat no one steals de Mansion."
"Where's Scott?"
"Out on de town, lookin' f' y'r sorry carcass." Logan pounced and his claws flashed close to the younger man's cheek.
"Talk, kid."
"Remy give him a list o' y' hang outs. He be in one o' dem. He been out ev'ry day f' de past week." Remy sipped the beer. "Y' sure y' don' want one?"
"The list." Remy reached into one of his inner pockets. Logan snatched the paper away and shoved the thief into the wall. Remy smirked behind the man's retreating back. He shook his head. Scotty was gonna be a sore pup by tomorrow.
Scott was slumped at the bar. He was drinking watered down beer and ignoring the men that were mostly watching him. He was actually hoping one of them would start something so he could kick the crap out of them. He wasn't sure he actually saw the man come in the door. He wasn't sure that he actually recognized the stance. His heart leapt when he did recognize the familiar growl near his ear. "Ya done here, Slim?" Logan felt a combination of anger, lust, and possessiveness as Scott hesitated, staring at his drink. "Yer done," he stated. Scott looked up at him, brows raised, mouth opening to say something. He shut his mouth a second later reconsidering. Logan dragged him out of the bar. The bartender snickered. He knew that look.
"Logan," Scott snapped.
"Just shut up until we get somewhere private or I'll say something you'll regret." Scott swallowed as the growl became more pronounced. "How the fuck did you get into town anyway?"
"I've got a room at the Comfort Inn. My car's there. I took a walk."
"Considerin' the way ya smell, I'm surprised ya can walk straight." Scott shrugged. Logan mounted his bike. "Get on." The link was flaring with anger and Scott decided that going with the flow would be a good idea.
As the door closed, Logan pounced. He slammed Scott face first into the wall, pinning his hands down. Scott tried to twist in the bruising grip, but couldn't. "I'm sorry, Logan," he said.
"Not good enough." Scott flinched. He didn't even realize it when he started projecting along the link.
//What did you expect from a fuck-up?// Logan didn't answer the thought except to snarl, the anger burning brighter and harsher than before. His brain was swiftly going off line. He forced the hands to the back of Scott's neck and held them with one broad hand. "Logan?" Scott queried.
"Shut up." The clothes were shredded an instant later. The strips of fabric fell to the floor. Logan slashed the laces on the hiking boots and they fell off as he hauled Scott to the bed. He threw him down. "You said the answer was yes. That makes ya mine now, Kid," he hissed into Scott's ear. He licked down the back of Scott's throat. The taste of alcohol, salt, and Scott was too much. He had to bite. His teeth fastened to the side of the vulnerable throat, right where it connected with the shoulder, a bruise formed beneath his ministrations. Scott gasped. He twisted and found his wrists pinned to the mattress, claws laying across the back of his hands. He closed his eyes. Logan was near feral. He'd missed him so damn much. The teeth were nipping along his shoulder, occasionally drawing blood. The fact that it was Logan was what made the pain blend into a weird sort of pleasure.
"Don't move." Clothing flew across the room. Scott felt the air across his back. He wanted to look and see the thundercloud expression he just knew was on Logan's face, but a fluttering in his stomach warned him that if he moved he'd be sorry. He trusted that instinct and lay still on the mattress. The sharp claws ran down the vulnerable back, then were gone and instant later. A rough finger prodded the little ring of muscle and Scott forced himself to relax. Soon it was two fingers and the burning stretching was almost too much. Scott whimpered in the back of his throat. The sound was half dreading, half yearning for what was coming. Too soon, it was replaced by the hard thickness of Logan's cock. Logan hilted himself with one firm thrust and Scott arched into the mattress to escape. The hands clamped around his wrists again. "I said, 'don't move,'" Logan growled.
Scott could barely think. The feeling of being torn apart was followed by a starbursts of pleasure spiking behind closed eyes as Logan unerringly found Scott's prostrate every few strokes. Coherent thought had fled ages ago. There was barely a separation between their thoughts now. There was only the rhythm. There was only harsh panting of breath trying to fill oxygen starved lungs. There was only spiraling pleasure and a sense of completion. Logan's explosion was followed by Scott's. Logan reveled in being milked by his lover's body. He collapsed forwards on to his lover's back and returned his attention to the bruising mark on his throat. Scott shivered as oversensitized flesh was once again stimulated.
Logan disengaged slowly and pulled Scott against him, settling his arms around him, still holding his wrists prisoner. Logan buried his face in Scott's hair and reoriented himself to the scents that made up his lover's unique musk.
It was a couple hours later when Scott woke up, unable to ignore the call of nature and unable to move. He squirmed and the hands tightened. "Logan?" Scott asked. "Come on. Let me up."
"Ya ain't goin' anywhere, Slim."
"Logan, I've got to go." Logan didn't seem to care. "Logan, I'm not going to pee in this bed." Logan snickered.
"Fine. Go on. Just be quick about it." Scott hurried to the bathroom. He glanced into the mirror as he shook off the last drop and gaped. There was a rather nasty love-bite on the side of his neck. There was a light bruise on his cheek from where his glasses had hit the wall and slammed into the bone. There were small bruises all along his collar bone. He looked down at the bruises on his wrists. "Slim?" Logan said a little hesitantly. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. A little bruised, but okay." Logan came to him. He looked him over with the eye of a collector checking for cracks. "What?"
"Turn around." Scott blinked, but did so.
"What the hell?"
"Just checkin' ta make sure I didn't hurtcha, Darlin'." Logan frowned. There was a little bruising, but he didn't see any tearing. He smelled blood, but he wasn't sure if it wasn't from Scott's shoulder. The shower called and Scott reached over to turn it on. Logan raised a brow. "Looks big enough." Scott laughed.
Languishing in the warmth of the bed a few minutes longer, Logan came to a decision. "We're going shoppin'."
"We are? For what? I don't need anything."
"Yes, ya do. And I know just where ta find it."
"Fine. Then you get to run down to my car and get my bag."
"Why?"
"Because the only clothes I had in the room are currently in shreds on the floor. Unless you wanted me walking around outside like this and getting pneumonia." Logan growled.
"Ain't no one but Jeannie seein' ya like this." Logan grabbed the keys and left the room. Scott stared up at the ceiling.
"I know I said I missed him, but wasn't this just a little overboard?" he asked the sky. He called the Mansion.
"Xavier's School for de Gifted."
"Remy? Logan and I are staying in town for a while. Here's the phone number. Call me if anything develops. Call me immediately, understand?"
"Oui, Cyke. Don' worry." Scott had the disturbing feeling that the younger mutant was drunk. Then, he checked the clock. Okay, since it was only nine, he might just be tired. "Y' welcome him back in style?"
"As if I'd tell you? Is Jean back?"
"Non, dey still wit' Moira. You want Remy t' tell her dat Logan be back?"
"No."
"Selfish t'day?"
"Yeah. Haven't gotten any in weeks. I'm savoring it," Scott said flatly. Remy snickered.
"Y' better go back t' bed. Y' talkin' in y' sleep, Cyke. Bye." Remy hung up on him. Scott glared at the dial tone, then hung up. He was starting to get a little nervous. It seemed to be taking Logan a hell of a long time to get back. Logically, he knew it wasn't all that long, but he was getting antsy. All his little aches and pains were making themselves known. He sat up in the bed. That was a mistake. He laid back down.
"Should've told Logan to get some aspirin too." The door banged open and Scott's hand flew to his glasses.
"Just me, Slim." Logan dropped the bag and his saddlebags onto the floor.
"On the advice of my phone psychic, I'm going back to bed." Logan grinned.
"Not alone. And you talked to Jeannie?"
"Nope. Jean's still in Scotland. I'm just a little tired. A little sore. And a little confused about why you're back."
"I brought your clothes up from the car."
"Was that an attempt to be cute or just irritating?"
"I was statin' a fact, Slim. Ya need ta get dressed now. And ya ain't off the hook yet." Scott winced as he reached through the link to find anger and disappointment.
"Should have saved you the trouble. Jean's been sleeping in your bed for the past three weeks. If you want I'll..." Logan was across the room in an instant, hand covering Scott's mouth.
"Listen close, Cyke. I want you. I want Jean. I ain't givin' up either of ya. Got it?" Scott swallowed and nodded. "We're gonna go shoppin'. I'm gonna get y' an outrageously expensive present. Yer gonna accept it. Is any of this getting through that head of yers?" Scott nodded, eyes wide behind his glasses. "Get dressed."
Scott glared at his lover. Logan was looking at the pictures in the window of a tattoo parlor. He'd look at a frame of pictures, then assess Scott. "No, Logan. It's not happening. No way."
"But, Slim, I'm sure there's somethin' perfect here. Somethin' along the lines of private property, don't touch."
"Don't even think about it. It's not happening. Do you understand? I'm not going to get anything tattooed, branded, or pierced. My body is staying in one unmodified piece. Got that?"
"Just one little nipple ring. Jeannie'd like it too."
"No."
"Come on."
"It's not happening. I don't care how much you plead. You want to get one. Fine. Just don't expect me to come anywhere near you for a year or two." Logan frowned, then snorted.
"Fine. Come on." He grabbed Scott's wrist and led him down the street. Logan was oblivious to the stares that followed them. The leather store's windows were painted black.
"Logan!" Scott snapped.
"They're good value. Get in there." He pushed the thinner man through the door. Scott stumbled to a stop, his eyes adjusting to the lighting. Logan's hand in the small of his back propelled him forward. "Go on. Find yerself some pants. I get final say. I'm buyin'." Scott rubbed at his temples.
"This is not exactly my style."
"It will be." Scott put up his hands in surrender. He turned to look through the racks while Logan went to talk to the man behind the counter.
"Overbearing, Canadian bastard," Scott muttered.
"Go with black," the salesman said as he put out new stock. "They're classic and go with everything.... And they don't stain as easily as the red ones. Motor oil and stuff, you know."
"Yeah. Thanks." Scott said politely. The thought of Jean in green leather wasn't bad though. Maybe he'd convince Betsy to take her shopping. He took three styles to the fitting room, wondering why exactly he was going along with this. The sight of the bruises on his wrists made him suddenly self-conscious. He yanked the curtain closed. "I'm gonna kill him," he muttered. He heard the salesman snickering as he went by.
It wasn't too difficult to figure out which style fit the best. One of them had obviously been designed for someone without a muscle to their name. Logan might still call him 'Slim', but that was out of habit more than anything else. The second was just, er... too much. There were laces (laces!) on the side. There was no way they would be anywhere near his closet. So, the last pair it was. They fit closer than jeans, and Scott stared at his reflection with a small frown. Logan stuck his head through the curtain, a hand already up to catch the instinctual punch that Scott launched at him. "Nice. Meet me up front when yer done. Got somethin' I think Jeannie'd like. Want yer opinion. Three weeks, Slim?"
"Yeah. Hasn't spoken to me since you drove off. Jubes tried to deck me, but pulled back. She said she was going to leave that up to you when you got back and if you didn't come back, then she was going to 'dissect me slowly like a freakin' biology experiment, bub.' Do you know how hard it is not to laugh when she's calling you 'bub'?"
"She'd kill ya if ya did." Logan grinned and left Scott to change. The younger man returned the unwanted pants and went to the counter.
"You know I don't want to let you do this."
"And ya know I ain't takin' 'no' fer an answer." Logan folded the pants on to the counter. "Now, y' think Jeannie'd like this?" He held up a dress of green leather. Scott snickered.
"Nope. But this one I'll second. I want to see her in it."
"Oh, she'll wear it." Logan gave Scott and evil grin. "Serve her right fer kickin' ya outta bed." Scott's eyes narrowed and he reached out only to have Logan's eyes narrow. Scott leaned against the counter.
"Do I even want to know?" Scott asked as the cashier returned with several small boxes.
"These too?" the cashier asked, pointing at the clothes.
"Yep."
"I'll wrap them up."
"Whatcha want fer lunch?" Scott shrugged. "Fine. I'll chose then. Sushi it is." Scott's head dropped. "Shoulda spoke up sooner, Slim." Logan grinned. "And I know just the place." Logan paid and they left.
After sushi, sake, and an argument about who was going to pay the check, the unsuspecting city was once again graced by the presence of two men who couldn't stay out of trouble if they're lives depended on it. They were wandering past a net-café when Scott stopped dead and backed up to see if he had actually seen what he thought on the closest woman's screen. Logan stared at the image. "Holy shit. I'm gonna kill that brat."
"Don't kill him. Torture him. Slowly."
"Secret lives of the X-men." Logan shook his head.
"Let's just get out of here. Didn't you say you wanted to get something for Ro?"
"Yeah. I know just the thing." Logan ducked into a storefront and Scott waited outside. No way he was setting foot in There. It was a fairly pleasant afternoon. They returned to the hotel with a pizza and a case of beer.
"What exactly did you get her? And should I restrain Gumbo when you give it to her?"
Logan grinned. "Naw. He knows she's a consenting adult."
"Right. That's why he threatened to cut off Bishop's balls."
"Naw, that was just if he broke her heart. Then, he had a long talk with Ro about the uses of condoms." Logan shook his head. "We wanna actually use the table, or just use the bed?"
"The bed. Oh, look, they managed to get all the scraps up."
"Damn. They could've been handy." Scott shot a startled glance and the shorter man. Logan just smiled.
Logan was flipping through the cable stations the hotel provided. He was sitting up against the headboard, the remains of the pizza beside him. Scott was checking in with the Mansion. "What do you mean you don't know where Jubilee is?"
"She is with Remy, Scott," Storm soothed.
"And the professor?"
"All three are still in Scotland. The team in Wisconsin has called. The FOH rally remained peaceful. They'll be returning tomorrow."
"Call if anything happens."
"Of course, Scott. Give Logan my regards."
"Bye, Storm."
"Goodbye." Scott hung up. Logan abandoned his search for something to watch in order to watch Scott settle back with an indulgent smile. The last slice of pizza was calling his name, but Cyclops would be strong. He would resist. Logan held the slice up to Cyke's lips. Obediently, the younger man took a bite.
"Ya know ya want it."
"I can feel my arteries hardening," Scott responded after he swallowed. "Not all of us have healing factor, you know."
"Yeah. But at least you've got some stamina. Scott.... Eat.... Me...." He waved the pizza in front of the chestnut haired mutant.
"Pizza first. Then you," Scott decided, taking the slice. Logan laughed.
"And ya accuse me of havin' a dirty mind."
"Only since you've come along. I'm sure I used to be more staid."
"Uptight and repressed." Scott shrugged. He licked a drop of sauce from his finger and Logan growled. Logan moved the dead pizza box to the trash and went to the bathroom. Scott took up channel surfing. He ended up on the Food Network. "I ain't watchin' cookin' shows!" Logan decreed. Scott snickered. Jean had been making him watch them so long that he was used to them. It is impossible to keep the remote away from a telekinetic. Logan had yet to learn the intricacies that made a "bam" of Cayenne more interesting to watch than a Martha Stewart special. And still Jean could not cook. It wasn't fair. "Turn it off or suffer. Yer choice, boy." Scott considered that threat. Read lust in the link. And promptly ignored Logan in favor of "Emril Live."
Logan waited until Scott finished the piece of pizza. He was drawn in to the show, despite his protests. Hey, the man had a live band, how bad could he be? Logan shook his head as if to clear it from a drug. He glanced suspiciously at Scott, who's face was as innocent as a choirboy's. Now, that was bullshit. Damn that link. Logan grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. Then tossed the remote across the room. "Hey!" Scott protested. "He was going to make dessert!"
"I don't give a fuck, kid. Strip." Scott crossed his arms across his chest and pinned him with the glare that was usually reserved for a fuck-up in the Danger Room.
"No. I'm not taking orders from you."
"Out there, in the field, yer the boss. In here, yer mine. Ya got that?" Logan grabbed Scott's shirt and kissed him. The brush of stubble against his lips and the tang of tomato sauce invaded Logan's perceptions. Scott on the other hand was working on remembering to breath. His hand reached up to cradle Logan's cheek. "Strip," Logan growled, his lips trailing down the side of Scott's neck to latch on to what was apparently going to be his spot. At this rate the bruise was going to last for more than a week. "Ya really want ta lose another set? Take 'em off now." Scott toed of his shoes and hurriedly pulled off his clothes. He didn't think his account could take the hit of having to buy too many outfits. Randomly, he realized that he'd been getting the same amount every week since he was sixteen. He'd have to talk to the professor about that. "Now, we're gonna have some fun." Logan's mouth formed a seal over Scott's and the younger man slanted to give the probing tongue greater access. Scott's fingers ran up and down Logan's sideburn before settling on the back of his skull. Scott broke away, breathless. Logan settled a hand over the bruise. Scott shivered. "I'm gonna tell ya some things now. And yer gonna listen. Got it?" Scott nodded. "Say it."
"I'm listening."
"Yer desirable. Yer not a fuck-up. I pushed ya and ya got scared. Ya hurt me. That's true enough. But I'm not gonna let ya beat yerself up and try ta move aside so I can have Jeannie. I want both of ya or neither. Got that?"
"Yes."
"But ya won't believe it. That bitch. Three weeks? I didn't know she could be that cold. We'll have ta do something about that." Scott shrugged.
"She's always been like that. She's a red head. Now, weren't we in the middle of something?"
"Don't get pushy, Slim. Ya'll get yers. Won't be able ta walk when I'm done with ya." Scott grinned.
"Oh, I've got stamina."
"But not a healin' factor." Logan's smile was not comforting. He slipped off his pants. Scott was suddenly nervous. Logan was planning something. Something Scott wasn't sure he was going to like. The hand hadn't moved and the reminder of the night before was starting to worry him. Scott licked his lips and Logan's grin grew wider. "Time to apologize, Darlin'." Scott swallowed. There was real anger in the link. "Ya know how much I like ya on yer knees." Who would have ever guessed that Logan was a talker? Scott shifted off the edge of the bed, Logan following and splaying his legs out. Scott grinned to himself. He wondered how long he could drag it out. It was a challenge. There was no way he was going to back down. Logan's hand tightened on his shoulder. Scott looked up at him, innocently.
"What?"
"I'd get started." Scott snorted.
"Why?"
"Cause the sooner you get me off, the sooner you get some." That was a valid argument. Scott licked up the side of Logan's thigh, the scent and feel of his hair was comforting. The man was actually there. Safe. Secure. And there wasn't any threat knocking on the doors. Scott's mind focused on the task. Logan's hand settled on his head, stroking through the hair as he gently attended to the balls. A sharp nip made Wolverine yelp and tug at Scott's hair. "Better not be pickin' up bad habits, Babe." Scott soothed the abused area with a kiss. He trailed his lips down the very erect cock and Logan moaned. It was a very good thing that Logan couldn't see the sly grin that slid across Scott's face. He stroked the man's inner thigh with his fingers, as his tongue swirled around the weeping head. He took Logan fully into his mouth for a heartbeat, then trailed kisses up the back of the cock. Logan growled. "Stop teasin'." A shiver ran down Scott's back as the growl did very interesting things to his anatomy.
He engulfed the cock in moist warmth and Logan stroked through his hair, appreciatively. The steady pressure was gentle. The scrape of teeth was unexpected. //Didn't want you going to sleep on me.//
"Don't worry, Darlin'. I'm payin' attention." Scott soothed the already healed scraps with his tongue. It was one of the pluses of Logan's healing. There was very little that left permanent damage. He always had to be just a little on edge with Jean. He fondled the over-heated balls and continued to suck. His tongue pressed against the slit at the tip and Logan arched into the contact. Scott ran a finger along the underside of the erection and Logan growled. Scott couldn't hide his smile. He liked driving Wolverine out of control. He took him in his mouth once more. He took the precaution of bracing against the older man's hips so he couldn't take over the rhythm. One hand fisted against the back of Scott's neck. He could feel the brush of metal against his shoulder. "Stop again and yer gonna regret it." The random rhythm of suction drove Logan insane. Suddenly, every muscle in his body seemed to tighten for a brilliant moment. And Scott was milking the last few drops of cum from his body. He stroked the chestnut hair affectionately. In the afterglow, he couldn't remember what he'd been angry about. That state lasted for about five seconds, then his memory returned.
He tugged gently on the hair beneath his fingertips. "Up." Scott looked up at Logan's face. Dangerous. Well, that was expected. "Close 'em, Slim." That was all the warning he got before Logan took the shades off.
"Hey!"
"Ya don't need 'em fer the moment." Logan gently laid him down with a kiss. The butterflies started in Scott's stomach. This was not exactly what angry Logan was usually like. Then again, he hadn't seen the man with his lovers much before so he wasn't really qualified to judge. He frowned when Logan moved away. "Don't worry so much, Slim. Ain't good fer yer blood pressure." Scott rolled his eyes. Of course the effect was lost behind his lids, but it was the thought that counted. A single rough finger lay across his lips for a moment. "I don't wanna hear one word outta you."
"I am not the talker in this relationship."
"No shit. I couldna guessed that one. Now shut up, Slim. I ain't done with you yet." Logan's hand settled on the bruised wrist nearest to him. Seconds later he had it bound to the bed rail. He pounced and pinned down the other wrist. Scott twisted. The cotton was gentle, but the bruises made him wince. Struggling would appear to be out of the question.
"Logan?" The question was hesitant. Logan pressed a switchblade into Scott's hand.
"If there's an emergency, cut yerself out. But if ya just get frustrated, I'm gonna be pissed." //Agreed?//
//Gotcha.//
The next touch slid doeskin leather around his throat. There was a slight moment of panic as it pulled tight. Then, it loosened and Scott realized that Logan had been doing the clasp. "Looks good, if I do say so myself." The rough fingertip ran gently around the edge of the leather. "Too tight?" Scott shook his head. Why the hell am I taking this from him? Scott wondered to himself. "Cause ya love me," Logan whispered into his ear. "Gotta learn ta block that link if ya wanna keep those thoughts private." Logan stroked him and it was like fire though Scott's veins. His hips raised to follow when the hand left him. Scott chewed on his already red lips. Logan kissed him. It was a long, probing kiss. Time seemed to suspend and then, suddenly, the mouth left and Scott sucked in oxygen. The lips returned, nibbling gently along his lips and down his throat. The mouth continued down his torso, paying special attention to his nipples. Scott moaned. That felt too damn good. "Tellin' ya, nipple rings'll just heighten the experience."
"In your dreams, Logan," Scott managed to choke out as the mouth returned to its self-appointed task. He squirmed. His cock ached for some of that attention now. Logan licked the length of Scott's cock, then fastened the cock-ring to the base. "What....?"
"Don't wantcha to come too early." Scott found himself growling as Logan tormented his cock. He wondered when he'd picked up the habit of growling. Scott found himself laughing as Logan unintentionally found the ticklish spot on his ribs. "Like that, Babe?" Logan grinned. Scott pulled lightly against the rope around his wrists. It didn't give. Logan kissed him breathless. Scott pleaded for release, but Logan just licked up the younger man's leg. He lifted it to nip at the underside of his knee.
"Logan, please."
"Not yet, Slim." Logan was hard again. He slicked his cock and pressed for entry. The low moan was wrenched from the bottom of Scott's lungs. Scott's hips wriggled trying for more sensation, anywhere at that point. If he didn't look so damn hot, Logan would have laughed at the firm concentration on Scott's face. He seemed to approach relationships the same way he'd go into battle, though with less success. Then again, he had decided to try to balance two lovers. Mistakes happen. Damn the boy felt good, tight and hot. He paused to let Scott adjust, then started to thrust. Scott met his rhythm.
"Please," he gasped. He was trembling now. He felt like he was flying. He was so hard it hurt. "God, Logan, please." He didn't need to see the smile to know it was on Logan's face. It was somewhere between feral and possessive. He knew it, somewhere in the bottom of his stomach. "Logan," he gasped.
"Yer mine."
"Yes." Anything, just let me come.
"Soon, Babe." Logan's thrusts were becoming more erratic. He released the cock-ring and Scott bit his lip. "Now, Slim. Come for me." Scott came, his muscles clamping along the length of Logan's cock. Logan pulsed into Scott's body, smile frozen in ecstasy. He collapsed across Scott's body. His lips found "his spot" easily and he kissed the mark gently. Eventually, he pulled his limp cock free. Scott whimpered. He looked young. Logan grinned. Everyone looked young to him. It was the complete bonelessness of his posture. He was near to passing out, if he hadn't. Logan rested for a few minutes, running his fingers down the strong chest. He went to the bathroom to get a washcloth and cleaned Scott and himself. Then, he undid the knots, picking the knife up from the floor. Scott barely reacted. He muttered into Logan's shoulder as he hauled him upright. He bound Scott's hands to his sides. "Sleep, Slim." Scott's face was creased with a frown. He didn't like being restricted. Logan's arms pulled him close, settling his head on Logan's shoulder. He sighed. His brain was moving sluggishly. He slept.
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