Title: Heat of the Night

Author: Munchie (munchie@chris-chick.fsnet.co.uk)

Website

Rating: NC-17 for graphic sexual content

Pairing/main characters: Wolverine/Cyclops

Series/Sequel: Sequel to Twist of Perception

Summary: Logan and Scott spend most of the night trying to equate the events in the garden and discover attraction is a difficult thing to fight...(set mid-way through the movie)

Disclaimer: The X-Men, Logan, Scott, Xavier etc are the property of Marvel and the movie is a 20th Century Fox thing. They AIN'T mine! And that's that! I don't profit in any way from this little ficcy. I just have FAR too much time on my hands.

Notes: Thanks to Lee for suggesting I do a revisit to 'Twist'. Sky for the URLs *wink* ultimately inspirational material - thanks gal! Lou - in her absence. *g* Oh and Bryan Singer RULES O-K! *g*

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Heat of the Night

By Munchie

 

Chapter One

"Scott, take me to bed." Grey's once alluring words glued fast to the back of Summers' mind. "Please?" She begged, her lips moving a gloss slickened line over his as she thrust her thigh up over his hip. He held her, gently. Returned her kisses with blank amour, a gesture more than an action of emotion. His mind still raced from Logan. The man filled his mind - his body - with a thousand, more, questions. Grey's fingers raked his hair her telekinesis stretching through his mind like ice. Bladed fingers turning page after page of a reference book searching the image she wanted, the memories she craved. He allowed her. Relaxed as she filled his mind with her own. His hand slipping between her thighs as he reclined her body over the desk in their room touching, teasing, her readiness.
Grey found it. Found what she was searching for. Leaves, dewed lightly with sap catching the morning rays like rubies burning heat stretching up through Summers' body as Logan slowly sucked him to the brink. Then anger, fury. Irrepressible crashing through her until her stomach turned over. "I can't do this." Summers' pulled away his palms laid flat on the desktop.
Grey heaved a heavy sigh and clambered into a sitting position, her hair falling into rough tousles over her white-pale face. "Not with 'him' still around." Summers added thumbing over his shoulder in the rough direction of Logan's room along the hallway.
"Ok." Grey attempted not to sound disgruntled. "Couple more days and he'll be out of here. If we can find out what Magneto wants with him." She slid off the edge of the desk squeezing around Summers' slim body.
"Maybe his food processor's broken?" Summers offered covering his agitation with flippancy.
"Hmm?" Grey was already leafing through her file on Logan. "Sure." She wasn't listening.
He KNEW she wasn't listening. Any other time Summers would've dragged it out, made an issue of it instead he found himself crawling under the covers of their bed his eyelids too heavy and his mind too confused to argue. He needed sleep. Needed rest.
His hand slowly tightened around the plump, feather-stuffed, pillow beneath his ear and found himself wishing it was Logan.
~~~~~~
Logan paced the floor, his bare feet cold on the varnished wood. Events running with flash frame rapidity through his brain over and over again. From the moment his eyes snapped open on the cold lab. table. Hand snapping around Grey's wrist like a steel cuff pulling up and over, almost choking her with his arm. Her perfume a light, classy, floral mingling sharp spice and fruit. He'd wanted to consume her, drive that scent from her body with the one it was meant to conceal - her. Oh how loyalties change. Flicked in an instant from a view intended to please the woman to the man he despised.
Logan padded into the bathroom switching the cold tap on. Allowing the water to run like ice before stopping the plughole. That's what he'd wanted the second he'd caught her feline, black edged, eyes slicing through him as he argued with Summers in the bushes. Wanted to drive her insane without touching a hair on her head. He'd ignored her glances at breakfast, cool, intense when he'd met them again this time with fire behind them. Ready to ignite with incendiary force. He could see, visualise, what was ticking inside that sweet, pretty, little head of hers.
'Innocent'? Like hell!
Logan turned the tap off and plunged his face into washbasin. Chilled water numbing his senses and feeling by it's presence and suggestion alone. Cold water not having the sobering powers it once had. Logan knocked his head back. Water splashing a smattered line over the mirror and tiles behind him as he wiped the last of the dripping liquid from his face.
Play acting. Give the girl something to look at. Besides it wasn't like he'd never kissed a guy before. And from Summers' reaction - him too. Logan recalled the confident, competent passes of Summers' tongue over his lips. Unexpected. Solicited - yes but not the reaction he'd put his faith in. 'One-eye' should, *SHOULD*, have run back to daddy X or hidden behind Grey's skirts like a scared little virgin after a date with the college football captain.
His knees buckled again just thinking about it. Summers warmth, tenderness. His tentative, inquiring, body pleading for reciprocation. Logan granted it more willingly than if it'd been Grey herself in Summers' shoes. What possessed him? What devils sought to prevent him from halting it right there. Why did he need to know more? The point was proven - he could switch Grey on and off and do the same with her fiance. He had the power, the advantage to claim whoever and whatever he chose now. Why didn't he stop? Why did he seek the touch of Summers' skin against his palms and the man's taste in his throat? All too many questions.
Logan felt the niggling twitch of the gears and levers holding the pivots of his blades in ready to burst from his hands. Too many questions. He pulled the plug from the washbasin and let the water swirl down the drain. TOO many.
~~~~~~
Summers rolled over. Jean was asleep beside him, her pen still clutched between her fingers like a cigarette. The documents she'd been making notes of taking up the lion's share of her half of their bed. Summers sighed quietly removing the pen gently from her grasp so as not to wake her.
She mumbled something in her sleep and tucked her arm beneath the pillow before restoring her breathing to a slow even pace. Her body curled tightly wrapping the sheet around the inside of her calf. "The absent-minded professor." Summers whispered his joke, laying the pen on the nightstand. He watched the minutes silently tick 'round on their digital alarm clock. Ten became twenty - became an hour - until night had passed to the wrong side of morning.
He glanced back over his sleeping fiancee's shoulder. Her sleep heavy and peaceful Summers caught sight of the small diamond engagement ring on her book-holding hand.
So fragile, small yet far from insignificant. It was a promise. Their promise, to share everything with each other and for the ring to be coupled with a smaller golden band when the time came. Joined in the eyes of God and the eyes of the law - forever.
Summers breath caught dry in his throat, the hot whisper of a lie. A half truth. He'd had sex with other men, as she had with other women, shared the experiences told the stories. Enacted larger fantasies. She telling him or allowing him to watch, he by allowing her to take hold of his mind. Merge their bodies until she became him at the point his lovers forced him to come.
Why not with Logan? What prevented Summers from showing her what it was like to be inside the animal's mouth. Be sunk deep, taken and toyed with to the edge. Why couldn't he share that?
Fear? Afraid she'd like it so much in his shoes she'd run fast into Logan's arms? Push him away? Reject him? Because.. what? It was good?
The best blow job he'd 'nearly' been given in a long time and *he* was scared??
Scared of what? She'd think he was trading her in for the lug down the hallway? WHAT?!
Summers grip tightened on the bed sheet, his fingers creeping round to grip the edge of the mattress. The hardness forming in his shorts told him something else. A new lie. He wasn't afraid Grey would run to Logan. He was scared it would be him who did all the running. Just for a second, a moment of being enveloped in Logan's arms. To feel the heat between them as their bodies contacted. No clothing to constrain their arousal, no voyeurs to dampen their passion. Summers groaned weakly into the pillow at his shoulder, gently worming his hand around the shaft of his waking cock. He thought of the strokes, recalled Logan's mouth around him. When the hand he fluidly pumped his hardness with became a disjointed feeling, his imagination run wild with Logan's body caressing his - it was too late.
He was already at the door of their room and there was no turning back.

 

Chapter Two

Logan heard the door of his room flung wide. Solid wood crashing against the wall preceeded by a fidgeting click of the handle being turned repeatedly - first one way, then the next. It gave him time to roll from the bedclothes - claws, an agonising protrusion of steel, drawn ready to meet the intruder. Summers' body landed hard on top of him, winding Logan as he allowed himself to be toppled back onto the bed.
Summers' heavy panting breaths like a hurricane forced down his throat as the younger man desperately took his mouth. His fingers tracing the shapes and contours of Logan's face and neck with renewed ferocity as the older man slowly realised what was happening. Blades retracting painfully so he could take Summers' half naked body in his arms.
Logan didn't resist. As soon as Summers' lips touched his, Logan's mind was lost in a heart shattering whirl - the like of which he could never remember feeling with such brutal force. His joints and muscles seemed to shudder with the power of Summers' onslaught. His assailant not appearing to break and draw breath as he continued his purge of Logan's mouth.
Logan growled low his mind finally registering Summers' trembling, naked flesh in his hands and arms. The man's fully aroused cock pressed hard against Logan's stomach as he knelt over him. Logan caught the sides of Summers' face with his hands, cupping his high sculpted cheekbones. The course coated metal of his visor cool against his fingers, face cast a light gold from the hallway lighting before the door, still quivering on it's hinges, swung slowly, fully back into position - closing off all light.
Summers pulled away. "Do you still want me?" He asked breathless.
Logan's mind blew into a thousand fragments, possibilities exploded, doubts dissolved yet all he could manage to answer Summers' request was a low rasped 'yes'.
"How?" Summers' second request shot like a bullet through Logan's already addled thoughts.
"HOW!" He demanded after not receiving an answer.
Logan's hands moved from Summers' face. One flicking the table lamp on the other clawing Summers' hair roughly dragging him down to Logan's level on the bed. Logan paused for a second, his nose brushing the tip of Summers', inhaling his scent. Sweet, as earlier in the garden, only stronger. The kid, Logan thought, must be coming in his pants.
Logan clamped his teeth in a bite around Summers' pouting bottom lip applying pressure until the younger man squealed half in pleasure, half pain before slipping the bite to a series of snapping sucks. Mouths breaking contact only for tongues to duel in the slight space and return to the hard contact of lips taking lips. A battle hard fought where there was very little chance of a loser on either side. Logan relished in the tastes their mixing scents and flavours coursing over his tongue and throat, Summers' likewise. Eventually the kiss expanded beyond exploration of their mouths after a lifetime passed in a few seconds or minutes, neither could be sure of which.
Summers taking his lead over Logan's jaw and neck to the curved lobe and shell of his ear - Logan pursuing Summers' shoulder and collarbone with equal intensity.
Summers groaned weakly Logan's formed erection pressing sensuously at the rear of his balls. He shuffled into position so the firmness graced, teasingly, the outer edge of his prostate and rocked against it provoking a like moan from Logan.
"Please." Summers whispered between gasps for air. "Please?" He didn't have to use the words to describe his want. The simple 'please' that echoed with warm air and the velvet agility of his tongue tip over Logan's ear said enough. Summers' hands brushing the thick hairs on Logan's chest coupled with the neat, erotic, massaging his palms and lower wrists made on his pectorals drove Logan to a peak. Summers roving hands moved quickly to his sides, Logan doing the same rooting his hands firmly to the younger man's boney hips, digging his fingers deep into the flesh of his hard buttocks. Logan used his muscle advantage to roll them both over onto their sides. "Off." He croaked, fingertips hooking the elastic of Summers' boxer shorts.
The younger man whimpered, having to end his touch with the far more interesting body of Logan to remove the requested obstacle. Flopping onto his back beside him when he'd finished Summers grinned. "I hate you, you know that?"
Logan hovered over him. His face painted a picture of puzzlement, desperation and perspiration drizzled passion. "I ain't too happy about you either - dickhead." He answered after an unusually long pause. The urge, irresistible, to trace the length of Summers' nose from the centre of his eyebrows to the dip of his upper lip.
Summers dissolved in a fit of giggles beneath him, moving to hold Logan's thumb over the rim of his lip. The younger man brought his knees up to hold lightly Logan's hips adjusting the tilt of his lower back, rendering himself almost open for the taking. Summers grinned up at him "What you waiting for? A written invitation?" He punctuated his questions with a near angelic smile. "Are you gonna finish what you started or do I?" His hands slipped down to the waistband of Logan's tracksuit bottoms slowly easing the older man's cock free of the loose jersey material in short tugs. Logan allowed his eyelids to flicker closed then open as his flesh crept with the sensation of Summers' slow, partial, removal of his track pants.
"*I* started?" Logan snarled the accusation soaking through his thickly sexually-aroused senses after a few moments. "You were the one who kicked the door in!"
"You were the one who gave me head in the garden. Sorry, ALMOST, gave me head! You OWE me for that!" Summers defended dashing the tip of his hard cock against Logan's shaft in a joking thrust.
"I don't 'perform'." Logan hissed countering Summers' thrust as his head exploded in a wave of delight. "Not for you, not for her - not in front of a jury." He snarled nipping at the skin covering the pulse spot below Summers' earlobe.
"I'm not asking you to." He pumped a slow return, raising his hips off the bed. Biting back his own moans of excruciating delight in the now constant touch of their aroused cocks. "I'm...I...LOGAN!" He shouted as a mistimed touch resulted in a total break of concentration and his reserve. "It was justdamnrude - y'know??" Summers squeaked.
"Yeah." Logan breathed a short wicked laugh trailing the response over Summers' ear with muscle weakening effect. The younger man no longer able to keep time with Logan's steady pace against his cock allowed him to lead. Immersing himself instead in the tart scent filling his nostrils and sharp salt of Logan's sweat on his tastebuds.
Logan rocked against Summers steadily, his speed building steadily with the gasped groans of agreement rippling over his neck and shoulder. His excitement heightened by the near delirious body quaking at his touch. The smooth skin and athletic physique he'd worshipped with his lips and mouth in the garden now petrified at the point of orgasm - heat radiating from the visor's smoked glass lenses as he came against Logan. His hips rising off the bed in an exaggerated jolt. Logan bit down slowly on his lover's collarbone sucking the thin covering of skin there into an elliptical plum before driving his own spewing cock against Summers' stomach.
In Summers' mind their worn, tired sighs seemed to last for hours. Logan's body curled up tightly beside him. Logan's wild haired head resting on Summers' shoulder while he lulled him to sleep. The heavy honey musk of their juices strong yet sedating, acute exhaustion floating over them in a welcome veil.
"Scott..." Logan mumbled just on the brink of sleep. "Next time I'll leave the door open."
"Next time..." Summers whispered. "I'll bring you off in the garden."

 

END

 

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