The following story contains adult situations. Please return to

The Wolverine and Jean Grey Website if you are not of legal age to read such material.

 

Title: Insomnia

Author: Hunter and Lady-T

 

Ratings: NC-17

Summary: Author's notes: This was originally Kat's fic, so she really deserves a lot of the credit here for planting a small bush in the compost that passes for my brain. This never normally would have happened, but she went and let me play with it and it took on a big ole smutty life of its own. I hope she doesn't hate it.

Archive: Just ask

Disclaimer: Marvel people not mine, in fact nothing is mine, including the plot idea (see note).

 

 

Insomnia

It was quiet at this time of night, a gentle blanket of stars slowly wrapping itself over the sleeping countryside.

Around the mansion, everyone slept. Quiet snores and mumbles filtered through the school, only disturbed by the continual ticking of the elderly grandfather clock in the main hallway. Not a soul stirred... with one exception.

Logan.

He had taken to puttering round the mansion like some kind of unofficial night watch man. Often he felt neither the need nor the desire to sleep and, as a result, had decided to at least try and make himself useful.

The dark was soothing and peaceful, and he had recently taken a liking to its introspective quiet. For the first time in quite a while, he had managed to find a source of the undisturbed peace he liked and time enough to work through his thoughts. It was always somehow pleasantly free from distraction. The day belonged to people like Scott Summers and the boundless energy of the students. The night was definitely more his style, matching his mood with its enveloping silence as he wandered the halls.

A patrolmanly sweep of the corridors finally led him to the kitchen.

His stomach growled slightly in the gloom and he wandered over to the cavernous refrigerator in search of a snack.

Bottles and jars clanked gently on their shelves as he peered inside, hunting for food. Easier said than done, apparently, and after rearranging the lasagna and four different types of vegetarian cheese he finally found what he was looking for. Picking things off plates he headed off towards the gym, deciding to prowl the halls in that area of the mansion for a change.

Munching thoughtfully on a chicken leg, he almost didn't pick up the scent in the air. It was coming from down the passage that led to the main gym hall. It was a smell of fresh sweat most definitely belonging to Jean. Thin strings of light could be seen from around the closed door, shining clearly in the darkness of the hallway.

"Must still be up," Logan muttered as he tossed the finished leg into the nearest pot plant.

He silently opened the gym door, thinking idly that he should have kept the leg for Scott's locker. Not moving from the shadowed quiet he watched with interest as Jean pounded the living daylights out of a forlorn-looking punching bag.

So, she was still up and looking extremely frustrated about something. He could tell from her punching method she was annoyed. Not practical hits for practice or hard aimed hits to build muscle, but fast, frenzied blows, intended to break a sweat and ultimately bring total absolution from your thoughts. She was hoping to escape her problems by letting her body take over, numbing her brain with a primal, physical ache.

Hard, trained muscles slid effortlessly under her tank top and gym pants and, not wishing to disturb her, Logan eased himself into a corner to watch.

As continual blows rained down on it, he began to feel just a tiny hint of pity for the bag. She was giving it a vicious beating, grunting and puffing with exertion, imparting a well-aimed kick to where its groin would have been if it had one.

With one last frustrated snarl, Jean paused in her blows. She panted gently, arms hanging loosely by her sides. Her chest rose and fell sharply with every breath as the bag swayed in small arcs.

"You can come out of the corner now Logan."

Her voice broke the silence, and Logan quietly stepped towards her.

"Reading thoughts again Jeanie?" he asked.

"No. It was the overwhelming smell of chicken that betrayed you."

She turned around and forced a smile. "You're the only one I know who can eat meat at this time at night."

"You're just jealous," he smiled back.

"Actually, I am," she frowned. "We ate supper at six and it's now..." she glanced at her watch. "It's now 2am. That's eight hours. Have a little sympathy for the starving, Logan."

"Well, I'm always a sucker for a good cause. I could fetch you my chicken leg from the corridor, but it may be a little sandy."

Jean scowled. "Don't tell me you put the bone in the fern."

Logan shrugged innocently. "There were no trashcans around. Besides, it looked hungry."

Jean rolled her eyes. "Very generous of you, though I'm not sure the vegetarians will totally appreciate your sentiment."

He laughed. "I've got an apple here somewhere if you want it."

He rooted through his pockets and produced the fruit for her. He threw it in her direction and it paused midway through its arc, hovering just in front of her. She gently plucked it from the air, smiling.

"Show off," smirked Logan.

She smiled at him and brought the apple to her nose, inhaling its sweet fragrance. She opened her mouth and took a hungry bite, closing her eyes and sighing with relief.

"Mm, s'good," she mumbled around a mouth full of juice.

Logan walked over to the pommel horse and pulled himself up next to the towel that was draped over it, comfortably seating himself on top.

Jean swiftly dispatched her apple and glanced around. "No pot plants," she said with a sigh.

"Nope," he laughed.

Logan gently reached down and took the apple core. He eyed Scott's locker, the corner of his mouth twitching up hopefully.

"No, Logan..." she groaned.

He laughed again and tossed it towards the trashcan on the far side of the gym. It landed perfectly.

Jean picked up her towel and started to pat her face dry, running the towel over the top of her sweat-dampened hair.

Logan looked her over.

"Scott sleeping?" he asked.

"Yes." The towel muffled her voice, but the frustration was still evident. "Fast asleep." She turned around and threw the towel back over the horse again.

Jean scowled. Yeah, he was always sleeping... or working, or teaching, or saving the world. He'd just get home and start snoring. Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered to look at her any more.

She sighed, the muscles in her shoulders and jaw were still tense despite the strenuous physical work and Logan began to understand what was wrong. No wonder she was hitting the bag like that.

"Cyke a little too tired for ya, huh?" Logan raised his brow at her.

"I don't want to talk about it with you, Logan," she warned.

"Hmmm." He mulled it over silently before speaking.

"You want to practice some with me?" he paused; too many innuendoes? "I'm a great sparing partner," he added hastily.

Jean shot him a funny look.

"Actually, that would be good..." she suddenly smiled up at him. "Maybe you can show me some of those infamous ‘Wolverine' moves?" She growled as she said his name, and the corner of her mouth twitched up in expectation.

He nodded and she grabbed his hand, tugging him off the horse and leading him over to the mats.

Logan stretched luxuriously, cracking his neck before starting to warm up. Hand to hand combat with Jean. He smiled to himself. This was going to be fun.

They sparred for a while, feigning punches and dodging lunges as they circled one another. Finally catching her off guard, Jean stumbled on one of Logan's kicks and he instinctively moved in to steady her, grasping hold of her flailing arms to prevent her fall.



She froze as he kept his hands on her bare flesh for just slightly longer than necessary. His touch was hot against her skin as they stared at one another for a second, both panting slightly from the workout.

Jean coughed and pulled away, breaking the contact. "Uh..." she looked flustered for a second. "Let's... let's move onto some real fighting... Maybe I can put some of this into practical use..."

Logan dropped his hands and stepped back smoothly. "Fine by me, Red, but no mind tricks. Just one on one."

"Then no claws either," she gestured at his hands.

"Sounds good." Logan dropped into his ready stance and watched her do the same.

Jean moved first, fighting hard but matched hit for hit, Logan blocking her punches. He seemed to immerse himself totally into the moves, flowing from stance to stance with predatorial grace.

He waited until he saw a fine sheen of sweat building on her skin and a more exhausted, clumsied attack pattern before he swung out his left leg and knocked her down.

Jean caught herself falling and rolled with it, leaping back into the fight. Her movements were still aggressive but, as exhaustion took its toll, she began to become sloppy.

Logan gracefully stepped back, avoiding her blows, and prepared to move for the final knockdown. He was enjoying himself immensely now.

As Jean began to flag, he changed his stance and took a breath. Jean paused, sensing the change in his fighting style as he hitched his brow playfully at her.

"Just thought I'd send her a little warning first..." he smiled to himself.

She was good, but he was the best.

Logan began to move around her, circling slowly for the opportunity he needed. He was enjoying watching her face puzzling over his expression, but he saw his opening and lunged...

He fell flat on his back with an undignified "oomph" as the floor mat shot out from underneath him.

"Jeanie? No mind tricks," Logan snarled at her.

He moved to get up and suddenly realised that he couldn't. He tugged at his arm but it wouldn't budge.

"Hey. Come on Jeanie..." he craned his neck to see her staring down at him with a smirk. "Or do you prefer me below?" he smirked back.

He tested the hold against his arms again, trying to squirm free of his invisible bonds, but he was pinned out, spread-eagled on the floor.

His legs were bound too as he discovered with annoyance. The only thing he could seem to move was his head.

He shot out his claws with a small growl. "Or are you scared of what I might do when I really get going?"

He watched her from the corner of his eye to see her reaction.

Jean crouched down at his head, peering at him closely. Her smirk had been replaced by a small smile.

"Actually..." she licked her lips, whispering softly, "I do prefer being on top."

Logan continued pulling at one arm as she ran her fingers down the back of his hand, lightly brushing against his claws.

"And I'm not as scared of these as you may think."

Jean slowly straightened, positioning herself so she was standing over him, one leg one either side of his waist.

"In fact," she continued, her hands on her hips as she considered him, "I often wonder what else they could be used for..." Jean looked thoughtful.

Logan paused as her words trailed past him.

He cocked his head to one side and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Are you coming onto me, Jeanie?" He asked, smiling.

He was starting to enjoy this little game. He seemed oblivious to the deadly serious look in Jean's eyes.

"Yes, you could say that."

Jean knelt down and straddled his waist, pressing herself into him as he lay helpless on the floor.

Logan's muscles tensed, the humor fading instantly. The fooling around was definitely over. This he hadn't expected.

"Jeanie, what about Sco.." He didn't finish his question as his mouth was stopped by hers. Her hands roamed up his neck, clasping at his head as her silk tongue pushed past his lips, caressing with its touch as he lay too dumbfounded to resist. Her mouth grasped hungrily at his, small moans of pleasure escaping her throat as Logan's instincts kicked in and he kissed her back. Hungry lips merged and Logan felt the thrum of her tongue against the roof of his mouth as she moaned against him.

The sweet taste of the apple filled his senses, as her hands traveled up into his hair, her tongue dancing playfully across his lips and teeth. She whimpered desperately against the heat of his mouth as he began pulling futilely against his frozen limbs, feeling a growing need to touch her.

Still only his head had freedom and he tilted his neck back in pleasure as she began to squirm on top of him.

Their passionate kisses had left him gasping for breath when Jean suddenly pulled away. He swallowed hard, about to say something, but her lips brushed against his skin and silenced him, kissing his chest as she slowly opened his shirt.

Shivers ran along his spine as she peeled his top open, button by button. Partly from the sudden coolness of the air against his damp skin, but mostly from the gentle nips trailing across his flesh.

"Do you... know... how much... I've... wanted... this...?" she whispered breathily between gentle pecks.

He could only emit a half-muffled moan of pleasure as her lips closed around his nipple, her tongue flashing across it before she moved on again.

She slowly eased down his body, tasting the fine sheen of sweat that still coated his skin. Lips pecked and teased over his chest and stomach as he craned his neck to watch her, his shirt hanging open loosely from his body.

Her head moved back up from her slow exploration of his belly button as she slid to look him in the eyes.

"Do you know what I've been going through?" she kissed him roughly. "Do you know what you've done to me...?"

Her voice was thick with emotion and desire, her flushed lips pouting slightly as she ran her hands up and down his pectorals, catching his sensitive nipples against the dry heel of her palms.

It shot little explosions of pure want into his skull as his muscles tensed under her touch, squirming with the desire coursing through him.

"Jeanie, I..." Logan's protest was cut off as his mouth was again consumed by a fierce, hungry kiss. He could feel his own arousal growing and Jean seemed to know it too, taking sudden delight in torturing him, grinding her supple body into his crotch.

"Oh God, Jeanie..." he gasped.

Still couldn't move....

Logan's body ached as he tensed and strained his muscles, still attempting to free himself. She was trying to drive him crazy, of that he was sure. One part of him wanted to roll her over and watch her cry out with ecstasy as he screwed her hard, but the mental restraints stuck him to the floor as her hips rolled in slow circles on top of his.

She trailed her fingers down his jaw and neck to his shoulders and, as she leaned back, he could see the hem of her top had started to ride up. The material bunched, exposing the pale cream skin on the underside of her breasts. They were bare beneath her shirt, hard, sensitive nipples poking through the cloth, just an inch away from being seen.

The anticipation made his heart beat faster. He wanted to reach out and touch her, push away that last inch of shirt and feel the firm pink buds glide under his fingers as he made her cry out.

He retracted his claws as Jean's hands slipped from his chest to slide along his sides.

She paused briefly to rub under his ribs as her lips feathered kisses down his breastbone.

A small groan escaped his throat and he could feel her smile against him, burying her face and nuzzling against his stomach. Her tongue flicked out to play against his belly button once more as her hands continued their descent.

Her fingers grazed their path down his body until they reached his jeans. She playfully ran a finger along the line where skin met cloth, then slid her fingers up his stomach again. Her hand came to rest on the dark line of hair that trailed down his taut body. As she leaned forward to capture his lips, her hand slipped beneath her, following the sleek dark line as she slid her fingers underneath his belt.

Logan couldn't stop the gasp.

Jean smiled and leaned back, rocking her hips seductively against him as she undid his pants. Sliding down agonisingly slowly, like she had done with his shirt, she kissed her way down his gradually revealed abdomen. Her own shirt rode just a little bit higher as she bent over him, the very edge of one rosy pink nipple coming into view.

She seemed totally oblivious to her state of undress but Logan's chest rose and fell harshly as she firmly grabbed the waistband of his pants and yanked them hard, pulling them down past his hips.

Somehow he managed to gasp in some air. "Jean... not here... not... the kids... Jeanie... let me go... I can't..." He made no sense and he knew it, but part of him didn't care any more.

"The kids are all asleep, Logan," she whispered soothingly, running her hand gently up his bare thigh.

He moaned as she slipped her fingers up the leg of his shorts, slowly caressing the crease of his thigh and sliding her hand over his hip.

His head was tilted back and his eyes closed, his heart pounding in his chest almost as loudly as the blood pounding in his crotch.

She speckled his stomach with kisses again, her pale breasts finally coming free of the tank top completely as she leaned forward.

"I... want... this... Logan..." she mumbled between kisses, her voice insistent. "I... want... YOU..."

He hissed as she brushed her hand over the straining flesh beneath the fabric of his boxers.

Like a cat uncurling in the sunlight, she stretched herself out until she lay completely along his body, face to face, the tank top bunched up under her arms. She was almost whimpering with need, her hips still rocking in an insistent rhythm.

Her mouth engulfed his, her tongue plunging into the delicious heat he offered, before sighing gently.

"Let me up."

His voice was hoarse but insistent, his eyes penetrating as he looked at her.

She pulled back slowly, yanking her crumpled shirt over her head and hurling it aside. Her sweatpants still clung to her hips as she slid one hand down the smooth pale skin of her stomach, darting just below the waistband.

"C'mon, Logan."

She glanced down at him and bit her lip sadly at the intense stare he was giving her.

"Jean..." he looked deadly serious and she felt her resolve begin to crumble.

His face tensed as she gradually slid off him, moving hard and slow against his crotch.

She couldn't fight the look of sadness as she stood and stepped away from him, her knees a little wobbly, her nipples tight and flushed with arousal.

"I... I'm sorry, Logan..." she whispered, before dashing to the shower block, muffling a sob.

A second later his body was freed, and he unsteadily rose to his feet, resting a hand on his head as if trying to work out what the hell had just happened. He yanked his too-tight-pants back up, but the swelling in his groin forced him to leave them open. He shrugged his flapping shirt onto the floor and followed her.

"Jean, what are you trying to do to me?"

He found her in the showers, steam cascading around her body while the water ran in glistening rivulets over her skin.

Tears of frustration were streaming down her face from between eyelids clamped hard shut while she buried one hand deep between her legs, shaking fingers pumping desperately into her body. The water flowed over her skin as her face creased into a silent hiss, grimacing in pleasure that seemed to almost border on pain.

She was whimpering, thrusting wet fingers hard into her constricting core as she battled to sate the need that burned in her belly. Her free hand clawed the shiny tiles as she neared the edge, her slender fingers thrusting viciously inside.

He stopped short, watching her battling for release, halted by the raw, naked hunger that consumed her.

Eyes still closed, hiccuping with the tears of swallowed frustration, she twisted round. Her back was to him now, wet hair slithering down her spine. Without thinking, he shed what remained of his clothes and stepped in behind her, pressing his body into her as his hands reached round to caress her breasts.

She gasped in shock, her eyes leaping open as he rolled her tender nipples between his fingers, rubbing the tips gently with his thumbs.

She almost thought she would go blind with the pleasure, her eyes screwing shut again as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder, moaning, still desperately stroking her core.

"How long has it been, Jeanie?" his voice rumbled low in her ear as he stilled the frantic motion of her hand.

"Too... aaih..." she suddenly cried out as he gently bit the crook of her neck. Gasping for breath, "Too... long..." she panted.

"So you thought you'd try and borrow me for a while, huh?"

She was writhing and breathless in his arms. "I'm... ungh... I'm sorry..." she whispered as he nibbled down the length of her neck.

"Cyke's not even trying no more..." he continued.

She rolled her head limply from side to side on his shoulder, tears still leaking down her face as he gently squeezed her agonisingly tender buds.

"Getting desperate by now," his throaty voice caressed her like his mouth nibbling at her throat.

She nodded dumbly.

"Boy doesn't know what he's missing," he purred.

She arched her back against him, rubbing herself along him like a cat. He spun her round, consuming her mouth as he pulled them both under the steaming jets of the shower. Her skin was slippery under his hands, water cascading around them and running in clear streams down her body. She could feel the hardness of his erection against her, and she shuddered as his hands pulled her close into him. She needed something to fill her desperately, the frantic throbbing between her legs driving her insane.

He pressed her back hard into the cold, tiled wall as she wrapped her arms around him, nibbling gently across his collarbone. He could tell by the way she was moaning that she wanted it hard and deep. She was desperate. No gentleness, she wanted to be fucked.

The slippery floor didn't offer enough leverage, so he pulled her out of the warm cocoon of steam and into the sudden chill of the locker room. Turning her so her back was to him once again, he led her to the slatted wooden bench. Still fingering her blood red nipples, he roughly pushed her forwards over it, spreading her legs.

"You sure about this?" He rumbled, holding her down with a palm on the flat of her back while he gently stroked a finger along the length of her entrance.

She could only mewl with need before he thrust himself hard into her slick, wet body.

She cried out, muscles clenching tightly around the invasion of her sex as he thrust into her, his hands holding her completely still as he rammed himself remorselessly against her body. He filled her so deep she thought her mind would explode with the sudden fullness of the sensation inside.

She tried to squirm, trying to meet his rhythm, but he kept her still. Whimpering with the agonising wait between each rock hard thrust, pleasure exploded through her body. Muscles clenched tightly around him as he moved within her, driving her hard towards the edge.

The force of him plunging into her shook her whole form with momentum as she called out his name, the agonising friction building the pressure inside her to bursting point. He seemed to be crushing into the sweet spot inside her body with every damn stroke as her hands gripped desperately onto the wooden slats.

The muscles in her sex clenched violently around him, suddenly grasping him like a vice as he rammed inside her body. The abrupt tightness was almost blinding.

She screamed as his body spasmed within her, muscles convulsing around him as she exploded. Panting hard and crying out with her orgasm, she felt the wet heat slick between her legs and the solid weight of his body as he gently sagged on top of her.

They were both breathing hard and, shaking from head to foot, she slumped down limply as they pulled apart, the burning in her body finally sated.

"I... I'm sorry for trying to use you, Logan," she whispered shakily.

He affectionately kissed down the back of her neck to between her shoulder blades, and she spun round to hug him tightly. He gently rubbed small circles on her back, smiling tenderly as she clung onto him.

"You didn't have to go to the trouble of pinning me to the floor, y'know Darlin'. You coulda just asked..."