Archive: if you must... let me know first.
Author's Note: My own short smutfic challenge. For Vic, at her request. No Jean. At all. And it's not sex, but it's almost as good... 10/30/01
Disclaimer: Still not mine! Damn!
The locker room was dark, even though Scott thought he'd seen the other man enter ahead of him.
There was a blur of motion beside him, too close for him to react, though his hand rose toward his glasses automatically. Then the sound of metal tearing through flesh, the flash of muted light off deadly blades, and the solid thunk of metal on wood. He dodged to the side, back against the door as a hard arm pressed up against his throat, a heavy body followed, pinning him to the door he'd just entered. A few inches in front of the glasses on his face loomed three metal blades, imbedded deeply in the wood beside him. Attached to the blades, of course, was a clenched fist, and a bare, hairy arm.
"The repair's coming out of your stipend," Scott said calmly, waiting. Knowing a struggle was pointless. His arms were trapped below the other man's. He couldnít reach his glasses. The other man outweighed him by nearly seventy-five pounds just from the metal lacing on his skeleton.
"You are such a dick," Logan growled.
"I didn't just stab a door because someone followed me."
Logan didn't say anything, just moved his arm away from Scott's throat, took a half-step away and braced his free hand against the door. Then he tugged hard trying to free his claws. They didn't move. Scott raised a brow behind his streamlined shades, knowing it rose up above the frames. A telling comment. Logan shot him a narrowed-eyed glare in return.
"Don't say it," Logan snarled. Scott let the barest trace of amusement enter his expression. He didn't bother to move away, just stayed there leaning against the door, folding his own arms over his chest as he watched Logan struggle unsuccessfully to free his hand.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said sardonically. Logan ignored him, but the tugging was getting wilder, the gash in the door widening, but not enough. Poor leverage. Scott's mouth curved slightly. Laughing, but silently.
Logan shot him a narrow glare. Recognized the look on his face. "Shut up, Slim," he snapped, his face darkening with growing annoyance. Scott couldn't resist widening his smile. Logan's gaze flickered to his mouth, hot, feral. Enraged, apparently by his amusement.
"What's the matter Wolverine? Stuck?"
"No," Logan said. Then he stepped closer, pressing Scott back into the door. Staring at his mouth intently. "God damn it you have a pretty mouth." And then Logan was kissing him. Hard. Relentless lips moving on his, forcing his mouth open. A hot tongue surged between his lips and into his mouth. A groan followed it.
Scott reached up instinctively, winding a hand in the back of Logan's wiry hair. Fingers clenching tightly, he pulled back on the other man's head. It did no good. Logan's mouth continued to devour his own, moving, demanding. Scott shuddered. He'd never been kissed like this in his life before. Hard. Wild. And as if it were somehow necessary.
It was heady stuff. Scott groaned and closed his eyes. Giving in to this temporary madness. Logan's free hand came up, pressed against his shoulder, keeping him flat against the door. Scott tilted his head slightly, easing the contact of their mouths, earning another groan. Relaxing his jaw as their tongues dueled. Hot. So hot and wet and different. There was stubble around Logan's mouth. He tasted of cigars and whiskey.
Logan's hand slid up, under his jaw, a strong thumb moving over to press down on his chin, forcing his mouth open even further. Mouths fusing, tongues searching and stroking. It was like Logan was trying to climb inside of him. Scott was drawing in sharp breaths through his nose, the hand in Logan's hair clenched tightly. A low sound deep in Logan's throat was the only response. The pulse of their mouths slowed, now drawing, sucking. His other hand was fisted around Logan's belt. Keeping the other man's weight off of him even as he leaned toward him. Reaching.
Then Logan broke free, breathing in deep gasps. Scott's eyes snapped open behind his glasses and he stared at the other man. He slid away to the side, releasing hair and belt at the same time with a little push. Logan watched him silently. Eyes narrowed in a glare that flickered over his face. No emotion there save a dark, primal hunger. Scott stumbled slightly as his shoulder left the door and met nothing but the empty air of the corridor beyond.
Logan just continued to stare at him. No. At his mouth. Gaze hungry. Wild.
Scott shook himself mentally. Still overwhelmed, but determined not to show it any more.
"Logan," he said softly, licking his slightly swollen lips. He could see the other man's eyes flare as he watched, gaze flickering briefly up to his glasses before returning to his mouth. "You're still stuck."
Then he turned and walked away.
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