Babylon Revisited
by
Blu



Disclaimer: Character(s) copyright of Marvel Comics Group. All text and story is copyright of Blu. No part of this text may be taken, altered or otherwise used without the author's express written permission.




When Scott takes off his uniform, it's like a hurricane hits me. I can't do anything but stand still and try hard not to get blown away. It's like sensory overload: all the angles, scents, sounds. I can see each of his muscles move one by one, independently working together as he slides first one forearm down and then the other, peeling away the tight suit. I can see small lines of sweat trickling down his back, and his chest; the sweat goes over the shoulder blades or down the middle, maybe runs between his pecs in that perfect little crease he has.

I practically slobber right there on the floor.

I have to quickly turn so that my hard-on doesn't give me away. I'm not a timid man -- never have been -- but when you're in the presence of leadership like that, you don't want to embarrass yourself. I try to push myself further into the dark opening of the locker, hiding it away; I keep my face in the shadows; I'm glad for this dark hair o' mine to cover the flush on my skin.

But goddam that ass looks fine. It's tight an' it's round and it looks fucking hard enough to crack walnuts with; I can't keep my eyes off his backside as he bends over to grab his towel, then stretches back, leaning just slightly so that his cock juts out in profile and his ass gets even tighter -- and he towels off that smooth back of his. Back and forth, back and forth, until it's only damp-dry instead of wet. And I want to tell him that I'll gladly lick every drop off the front side of him if he'll let me; he doesn't need to use a towel.

I don't -- of course. I stand there with a hard-on like nothing on this earth and watch secretly, keeping my jaw tight and my eyes almost down. Anyone would think, and everyone does -- always -- that I'm just looking at the floor, minding my own business. That seems to be my brand, around here. But I got a sex drive that would kill King Kong himself, an' every time I see Scotty take that thing off I nearly lose my hold. One of these days it's going to happen -- it's only a matter of time. Only a matter of time.

It might be the same with Jean, but, truth be told I ain't ever seen her like this -- not in this light, not with a body coated in a sheen of sweat and salt and smells; not flushed red from exertion like a two-dollar Hong Kong whore. Huh uh -- not like this. As much as I might like it, I haven't. But Scotty I see every other day at three o' clock, always the same movements, always the same schooled face: taut jaw with the hints of a five o'clock shadow just starting to show. Grim, determined, near dazed -- and fucking to die for.

The only thought in my head by this point is how many ways I can knock him on his ass, spread his thighs and fuck him until the moon comes out.

That's pretty crude, I know. I never think I'd be gentle. Even my own self-delusion has its limits.

Now I'm smirking to myself and he's noticed it. He gets that look behind his eyes -- the one with the dark glowing tint that means he's annoyed or horny -- and says to me:

"What now, Logan?"

"Nothin'. Slim. Scott. Scotty," I say while still keeping my smirk exactly the same. I snap a towel out and nearly squirm at the slap it makes hitting him.

He snorts in derision like he always does when he's uncomfortable. I like making him uncomfortable. It gets me going.  He goes back to cleaning himself off. I like that he doesn't shower until night. I like the scent of a man. I like the scent of that man better than most.

My hard-on's coming down now, and Scott walks past me, just grazing my ass with three of his fingers. There isn't enough room to walk behind a person in the locker room without touching him. I count on this every time. I won't ever get the chance. Yeah, shit I know. But it's damn good paradise while it lasts.



All references to characters belonging to the X-Men Universe are (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities. All rights reserved. Any reproduction, duplication or distribution of these materials in any form is expressly prohibited. No money is being made from this archive. All images are also (c) and TM the Marvel Comics Group, 20th Century Fox and all related entities; they are not mine. This website, its operators and any content used on this site relating to the X-Men are not authorized by Marvel, Fox, etc. I am not, nor do I claim to be affiliated with any of these entities in any way.