Title: Twist of Perception
Author: Munchie (munchie@chris-chick.fsnet.co.uk)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/main characters: Wolverine/Cyclops
Series/Sequel: followed by Heat Of The Night
Summary: PWP with a little angst. Logan's attempts at ham-psychology on a voyeur leave both himself and Scott with a few unanswered questions... (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 too much time on my hands.
Notes: For Sky & Lee. I've finally gone the whole hog and jumped in with both feet now!! *g* I just hope my fics get a little bit better after this as I get the feeling I'll be experimenting for a while with these two. *g*
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Twist of Perception
By Munchie
Jean Grey took a sip from the glass of iced tea she'd made. The sun's rays filtered light through the trees on the far edge of the veranda. The late morning heat was baking and she thanked herself quietly that she'd had the forethought to choose a leaf shaded alcove for her morning's rest.
Things had been hectic, chaotic to say the least; she welcomed the quieter moments away from the chilled laboratory when she could just relax. Read a book, enjoy the summer sun - most of all take a time-out from the raging ball of testosterone she was engaged to.
Grey turned another page in her book ignoring the sound of thumping footsteps and raised voices coming from the french windows behind her.
"Logan." She allowed a small mischievous smile to flit across her lips as she snuggled deeper into the wicker bucket chair. A warm breeze rushed past her shoulder, the scent of leather and sweat strong in the atmosphere as Logan stormed onto the veranda. Bypassing her completely, ignoring her as he headed over to the garden benches the students loved to hang around when the recess bell tolled.
Scott wasn't far behind him. Almost running to catch the larger frame disappearing into the sweet smelling grove. His scent stronger, clearer than Logan's, cologne masking his heat.
Grey thought to ignore them both, licking the tip of her thumb to turn the page of her novel. Her gaze drifted over the rim of her glasses and the book's dark leather cover, to the two figures masked slightly by lush leaf laden branches.
~~~~~~
"Touch my goddamn bike again Logan and I'll..." Scott shouted.
"What? Tell your girlfriend." Logan teased. "Between you and me.. I think she likes me."
Summers balled his fists. The idea of melting Logan's adamantium reinforcements to steel fondue was becoming a favoured thought of his. Since Logan had 'arrived', since they'd pulled him from certain death at the hands of Sabretooth less than 24 hours earlier, the man had showed no appreciation. No gratitude. Not even so much as a 'gee thanks'. Rude wasn't the word. Logan was crude, uncouth and thought he owned the joint.
"Just find out what Magneto wants with him." Scott repeated to himself. "Then tell the SOB to hit the road." The thought calmed him a little then he remembered the narrowed, heated, glances of appraisal he'd given Jean - his blood boiled once more. "And stay away from my girl!" He blurted in a spluttering stammer of anger as Logan grinned his response.
Fingers tracing the wood's strata, Logan looked up and smiled. Piercing navy blue eyes relishing Summers' seething discomfort. He'd touched a little nerve - awww, poor baby. Logan's eyes switched from staring Summers' shaded eyes down to the slender form seated on the veranda.
Jean Grey, immersed in a book, her mid-length dark hair hanging limp and unruly around her face as she turned the pages. Glasses perched on her delicate nose - watching but 'not'. A thin smile painted on her lips that looked ripe to develop into a laugh.
"Maybe I'll just go ask her." Logan grinned his hand closing around the trellis frame of the bench seat.
"You so much as breathe on her...." Scott warned.
"And you'll?" Logan laughed. "Do what? Break every bone in my body? Oh, sorry, forgot you left your wire cutters in the garage with that hunk of junk you call a bike!"
"That's it!" Scott took a swing at Logan's jaw. The taller man ducked it easily, catching Summer's fist in his hand.
Grey's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening. Scott and Logan's scrap in the bushes pausing a little too long. The taller of the two playing with her fiance like a kitten with a ball of string, his hand locked around Scott's fist. She waited for the inevitable, what Scott had been playing for in his volatility - a fight. She ducked behind her novel waiting for the first blows to be exchanged before doing her 'good girlfriend' duty and running over to tear the schoolboys apart.
As much as she hated it, most of the time this was the only way Scott discovered he couldn't take on the world single-handed. She dared a peek over the spine of her book.
Catching Logan's angry, daring, stare - she shook her head. Eyes speaking a volume more than the book in her hands.
Logan flashed Grey a smile. More an evilly sadistic grin. So she WAS watching? Stood to reason in Logan's mind. He'd caught her higher-mind setting the two of them off against each other on more than one occasion. It only seemed polite to play up to the little flirt.
He pulled Scott's fist inward clamping his arms around the shorter man's chest.
It's about time he gave her something she wasn't expecting.
Logan held Summers' struggles down, his hand reaching to cup the base of his skull and nape of the younger man's neck.
Throw a spoke in the wheel - Grey and Xavier weren't the only ones who could read minds.
Logan pressed his lips to Summers' coldly, hardly, stifling the skin with his gaze locked with Grey's. From the burning tingle at the back of his mind she was trying to read him as Xavier had the previous afternoon. Her powers not as strong as his, leaving only a trace of electricity like a raw burn across his lobes. Oh so this is what you want? Logan thought to himself. Hellcat - under the prim well-dressed veneer of a respected scientist was the soul of a sexually charged bitch. This does it for you? He answer the buzzing at the joint of his nose. I'll take you both on.
Summers' struggles, strangely, were no more. His hands twining upwards to run roughly through the gelled thickness of Logan's course hair. His jaw loosening against the pressure, gasping for air. Tongue flicking outwards to brush the tightly clenched flesh of Logan's lips.
Logan came to. His lips loosening at the promise of Summers' intervention. Surprise. Logan pulled back slightly his gaze flicking between Grey's burning stare, fragments of her attempted push into his mind still whirring like an electrical storm, and Summers' unreadable eyes.
The younger man's hand gripping the back of his head like a vice attempting to tug him back for more. Logan felt the earth swell beneath his feet like glutinous mud as he allowed himself to be dragged back down.
He lost his eye contact with Grey, immersing himself instead in Summers' warmth. His tongue desperately plundering the man's sweet depths. Orange juice, apple, the rich aftertaste of milk on Scott's lips coupled with a flavour that was all too personal. Logan groaned into the hollow of the man's mouth thrusting his groin hard against Summers' hip bone. Denim and denim. A second skin of ridged material covering, binding the flesh and muscle beneath.
Before Scott realized it they were touching from toe to lip and he didn't want to stop. Year on year weathered leather, soft, molding Logan's shoulders and back. Heat radiating between their torsos. The tempting meshing of Logan's thigh slotted between his. The taller man's scent brutal on his mind and senses tasting the crisp, mint masked, flavours on Logan's lips and tongue. Not Logan, please god ANYONE but him! Summers whispered to himself as he felt the taut rising weight in his groin.
It had been too long. Far too long since he'd wrapped himself in the arms of another man and felt the warmth of arousal within him. The cool chill of the morning breeze caressed his neck and shoulders as Logan forced his jacket from him onto the ground. The older man's lips taking their lead in a powerful line from Summers' mouth to his neck and collarbone as he felt the buttons on his shirt being opened with lightening ease. Rough fingers chasing over the skin beneath. Summers expelled a short sigh before falling back into Logan's confident body.
Grey kept watching, her eyes never leaving the scene. Breath faster than before. She'd sensed it. Sensed when she'd plumbed Logan's mind the night before his intentions muted by pain and old memories he couldn't quite remember. Inclinations hot and heavy running through her mind as she'd channeled through him. Scott though she knew too well - knew his attractions, desires; played them for him as best she could. All the time knowing the short powerful thrusts of an aroused cock against his could never be replaced or mimicked - even by love.
A gasp caught in her throat tearing her eyes from the scene in the bushes to scan for other observers - the children. Finding none in her panicked switch she found herself praising Xavier for his garden's groves and concealed corners as Scott's shirt followed his jacket to the floor.
~~~~~~
Logan pursued his trail over Summers' chest, his forearms flat against the man's naked sides as he nipped Summers' nipples to hard blush buds with his teeth and tongue. The other man wincing at the sensation flooding him. Hands validating his throat's agreement, pressing Logan to linger. Logan sighed the expanse of pale skin covering well-toned muscle stretching upwards before his eyes to the frame of Summers' collarbone and sinews of his listed back neck. He bent into the hollow of Summers' belly button, dashing his tongue tip into and around the dip. Lips lavishing kisses on the hardness of Summers' abdomen as he unfastened the younger man's belt and jeans. It was an unwilling reflex, recalling the piercing dark eyes of Grey on the veranda, Logan dipped his head to one side sucking slowly on the protrusion of Summers' hip bone. She was still there. Benign, graceful her cheekbones slightly flushed as her eyes met Logan's. His gaze dropping with a short smile back to Summers' close body, noting her fingers easing the hem of her short black skirt up over her thighs under the table. Knees parting as her hand was claimed by shadow.
Summers groaned softly. Logan's adept hand massaging his balls through the light cotton for his shorts. This was good. No fantastic. The man had the dexterity of a pianist and the confidence of a pro. He contained his thoughts, dragged the need to scream out loud deep within himself. Logan's hands roughly tearing his jeans and shorts down to his thighs - without giving him time to take a breath, engulfing him in a sea of silken moisture. A course furnace that threatened to make him come from his first introduction. The tightness of Logan's throat around his head as he pulled him slowly from the raging depths in a continuous suck before plunging his trickling cock back inside. Summers thrust his hips against Logan's face. The reassurance of his fine tipped nose sunk deep at the point into the thick brush of Summers' groin making the younger man gasp. His voice a mix of grunted moans and scalded intakes of breath as he approached orgasm.
Logan ignored the woman, Grey, on the veranda. This wasn't for her benefit, maybe it was initially but not anymore. In fact her eyes burning into him, into them, evoked discomfort. Audiences in the dirt pits where he'd broken bones and drawn blood for a prize - a price - were expected, needed. He thriived on them. Now, on his knees, Summers' hard cock filling his mouth and throat with sex, the younger man's firm ass in his hands as he begged both for mercy and more he felt like a whore. Cheap. No one, NO ONE, should be watching - trying to slip clumsily into his mind to see the images running rampant fantasy. Summers throbbing cock fucking him until his spine threatened to snap and vice versa. Bodies meshed in a stickiness of their own seed. Logan gripped the base of Summers' cock with his hand choking off the flow.
No not today. Not for Grey to moisten the pages of her book with more than her spit.
He wanted Summers now. Needed to take his lithe body whole to see how far the warmth of his arousal stretched. Slowly or hard and fast, Logan didn't care as long as he didn't have the vision of Grey's expensively perfumed body, laid wide, pleasuring herself from their intimacy encroaching on their space.
Logan rose to his feet his stormy burning eyes meeting a rose blackness of polished glass.
Logan caught his reflection in Summers' shades. "I'm not after your girl." He hissed thumbing away the thin film of sweat on Summers' cheeks and lips his hands framing the younger man's face. Summers' didn't answer, his mind a blur of frustration and breathlessness.
"Your 'girl' has been watching us the whole damn time." Logan continued noting Summers' panicked switches around the grove and to the house. Logan gripped him steady catching the lobe of Summers' ear between his lips. "I want you." He whispered, returning one final kiss to Summers' neck.
Scott watched Logan stalk from the bushes, his heavy angered gait as he stormed up the stone steps of the veranda. His heart fluttered, cold shivers of embarrassment whipping over his spine as he saw Grey seated at the table - a smile of deep satisfaction on her facee.
Summers quickly hauled his shirt on, fastening his jeans afterwards. Had Logan said what he thought he'd said? Everything seemed an indefinable dream caught black on the verge of sleep and awake. One that left Summers boiling with a combination of anger and passion. Grey's light touch on his back and chest moments later he wished was Logan's. Something was happening, something was wrong her kiss only compounded it. All Scott Summers could see either in the red filtered light of the day or in the flicker of his mind's eye was the darkened shaded silhouette of the man, Logan, hovering for a moment at the edge of the french windows before he was gone.
Go on to Heat Of The Night