Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was well after three a.m. when the familiar hum of Logan killing the engine on Scott’s motorcycle caught Scott’s attention. With a frustrated sigh and a twist over his bed’s disorganized blankets, Scott’s heavy feet kicked over the side of the bed. He was sluggish in his movements and exhausted, but still very much awake when he moved over towards the window to observe Logan doing his best to be discreet in his early morning return.

Behind his ruby quartz sleep mask, Scott witnessed Logan tiptoeing up the drive to the school attempting to go undetected in his clandestine return. Swinging his leg over the side of the motorcycle, Logan attempted to walk it up the rest of the drive, headed towards the garage with a smug grin carrying over his features as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Tonight, as with every other night, Logan appeared to be triumphant in his return, caught up in the notion that he had returned undetected. Little did Logan know that was not the case by a long shot. Much to his chagrin, Scott had discovered Logan’s duplicity on an earlier trip to the garage and vowed that he was now tasked with bringing an end to Logan’s little, impromptu joyrides.

With a scowl, Scott pondered if he would discover an empty gas tank yet again in the morning after Logan’s nighttime adventures frequently left Scott’s motorcycle with a new scratch in the pristine paint job that Scoot had spent hours perfecting on his bike. Often after Logan stole his motorcycle Scott spent the next morning in need of a trip to the gas station for a refill only for Logan to thoughtlessly repeat the process again the following evening. Scott had repeatedly approached Logan politely asking him to refrain from stealing Scott’s prized possession, but it appeared that there was no end in sight to the offensive behavior on Logan’s end.

“Relax Slim,” Logan had once said to him in passing, “It’s no big deal. No need to get your panties in a bunch over it.”

“It’s just rude Logan,” Scott had scoffed feeling his frustrations mounting with his teammate.

“Is it though?” Logan had challenged, delivering a few more smart-ass remarks before going on his way to continue his day seemingly untouched by Scott’s polite request to simply ask for permission to borrow his motorcycle.

The memory alone was enough for Scott’s lips to curve downward in the beginnings of a scowl. It was three days since his last attempt at speaking with Logan about his grievances, yet somehow, they’d once again been lost on Logan going over his head and leaving Scott irritated. Hours after the discovery that Logan had made off with his motorcycle, Scott was still pissed off and ready to take matters in his own hands. It was bad enough that the night had gone on longer than he’d anticipated after Scott’s misdirected rage prompted him to exchange a few heated words with the Professor leaving Scott on the receiving end of a lecture on proper etiquette in dealing with school procedures. That followed up with a dispute with Hank over having eaten the last one of the donuts Scott had been saving for a late night dessert had sent Scott into a tail spin tossing and turning in his empty bed concerned for his motorcycle and awaiting Logan’s return. Then again, Logan had never given any real consideration to time or consequence when he’d stolen Scott’s bike. Logan simply took what he wanted when he wanted without asking for permission.

Far too often Scott’s motorcycle was missing from the garage without Scott’s consent often leading Scott to a sleepless night worried sick about his prized possession. At first, he’d convinced himself he’d been anxious about his motorcycle’s condition after Logan’s endless string of joyrides, but now it was beyond that. Now it was more about the sleepless nights and the uneasiness that had settled in the pit of his stomach when it was clear that Logan held little to no respect for Scott and his property. Yes, that was something that had plagued their relationship from the start, but now with Scott’s growing apprehension at the state of his life after the end of his marriage, he found that Logan’s disregard for him stung harder than he’d anticipated.

Scott’s motorcycle was, in many ways, his baby. He’s spent long hours after his divorce had finalized fine tuning her and working to personalize a smooth ride for himself only to have Logan steal her away for long hours on end. Without any type of consideration, Logan would make his escape on Scott’s motorcycle simply disappearing in the evening for hours without any kind of communication and leaving Scott unable to enjoy the fruits of his hard labor in fixing the motorcycle up in his free time.

“That son of a bitch,” Scott cursed under his breath remembering how earlier in the evening after dinner he’d decided to take an early evening drive to clear his head only to discover that his motorcycle was conspicuously absent from the garage again. He’d even gone so far this time as to hide the keys elsewhere, yet somehow Logan had discovered them in his abrupt departure from the estate. Now as Logan crept up the circular drive making his way to the garage again, Scott decided that he had enough. He’d been patient for far too long and if Logan wanted to play dirty, then so be it, Scott Summers would toss his squeaky-clean image aside long enough to turn the tables and get messy himself it need be.

“Tonight’s the last night you’re taking her out without my permission Logan,” Scott’s fingers curled out across the glass windowpane watching as Logan wrestled with the lock on the garage. He worked to open it without drawing any attention to himself, but with his movements Scott had made up his mind. It was time to teach Logan a lesson he wouldn’t forget.

“Where the hell are my cigars?” Logan demanded stomping out into the hallway fully prepared to slash someone to pieces after his stash of far too expensive Cuban cigars disappeared for the third time during the week after he’d been away during the day for class meetings. Looking around the hall with nefarious intent, Logan could practically smell the lingering remains of a freshly lit cigar taunting him in the distance. He watched the students scurry into their dorm rooms eager to avoid the Wolverine’s wrath when it became painfully clear that whoever had been the guilty party was yet to reveal themselves.

“I know they didn’t just up and run away themselves,” Logan’s words circled around the hallway, lashing out onto anyone who was close enough to hear his anger shining through his actions, “If you bring them back to my room and set them on my dresser in the next ten minutes, then I promise I won’t take your head off. However, if you don’t return them by then so help me that cigar that you’re smoking will be your last memory before I lose my patience and eviscerate you.”

Logan paused dramatically to bring his hand up in the air in front of him. His eyes surveyed the hallway again before he unsheathed his claws and snarled in warning.

“You’ve got nine minutes and twenty-three seconds to put them back in my room before all hell breaks loose!” Logan raised his voice no longer giving a damn about propriety and manners after he’d been the recipient of a thief’s tricks far more than he’d cared to admit. Enough was enough.

“Professor Logan…” a shaky voice questioned from behind him, causing him to turn around and see a younger mutant practically trembling before him.

“What?” Logan snarled impatiently. He retracted his claws as the young mutant swallowed down hard in sheer terror.

“Nothing,” the boy’s voice cracked with dread before he rushed out of the hallway eager to get as far from the irate professor as possible.

“Good,” Logan huffed. He raised his head up attempting to sniff the air around him before moving forward with a mission in mind. Stomping through the halls, Logan’s rage mounted, coiling within his abdomen, and building with each heavy step he made towards the long winding staircase.

“Damn it, where are they?” Logan shouted aimlessly, stomping his way down the marble steps until finally he found himself surveying the foyer only to discover wide, panicked eyes upon him. He snarled at the young mutant standing a few feet away. Shaking his fist, Logan raised his hand in the air and pointed at the terrified boy, “Were you going through the things in my room?”

“No sir,” the mutant swallowed down hard doing his best to keep from trembling when Logan redirected his fury to another mutant boy in the foyer.

“What about you?” Logan snarled with a predatory curl of his lip, “Were you in my room going through my things?”

“N-no Professor Logan,” the second boy answered before the duo raced out of the foyer fully prepared to get as far from Logan as possible.

“What is all the fuss about in here?” Storm’s voice questioned causing Logan to spin around and snarl at his new companion.

“Were you in my room going through my things?” Logan questioned gruffly.

“Why would I be going through your things Logan?” Storm challenged with intense scrutiny in her expression, “Who would want to?”

“That’s what I would like to know,” Logan snarled preparing to break into an enraged fit when he rethought his words. He huffed glaring at his friend as he struggled to smooth out the rage in his loud, booming voice, “Someone was in my room and they took my cigars.”

“What cigars?” Ororo questioned with a quizzical expression on her face, “I thought that Charles banned you from bringing those type of things on school grounds. At the last staff meeting you agreed to the new no smoking mandate around here.”

“Grudgingly,” Logan quipped with a snarl in his defense.

“That’s beside the point,” Ororo wrinkled her nose at him before glaring down at him pointedly, “You still agreed to his terms and…”

“That’s not the problem right now,” Logan threw his hands up in the air in frustration, “The fact to the matter is that someone’s been sniffing around my room going through my things and taking them out of my very secure, extremely concealed hiding spot.”

“I can’t help you with that Logan,” Ororo shrugged her shoulders when his tone caused her scowl to intensify, “Maybe you should ask Charles about this particular problem you seem to be encountering. He could add some insight on it perhaps given that you were knowingly breaking a direct rule when you were smuggling in contraband items on school property…”

“For the love of….” Logan threw his hands up in the air. He cursed under his breath before glaring at her behind agitated eyes, “You’re starting to sound like Summers right now Ro and I have to tell you it’s not flattering. One know-it-all around here is more than enough of a headache when…”

“It comes to you following any kind of rules,” Ororo taunted folding her arms in front of her chest, “It’s alright for you to disrupt the order of things, but the moment someone does that to you, this is the outcome.”

“I paid a ludicrous amount of money for those cigars and…” Logan stopped himself. Petulantly he stomped his foot down on the ground and snarled, “I don’t need to be hearing this right now. You don’t have to be telling me any of this especially when it isn’t going to help me find my property.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t need to hear it,” she countered with a shake of her head, “You can’t go through the halls behaving like a child and alarming the students when…”

“Someone stole my property. What the hell else am I supposed to do?” Logan snapped in response.

“Maybe ask nicely to see if you can locate the items that you lost,” she suggested with an arch in her brow, “A little kindness goes a long way in dealing with others Logan.”

“I don’t need to ask nicely because there wasn’t any reason in the world that someone should be going through my things when I’m not there to supervise. Then again I specifically warned everyone that my room was off limits and…” Logan ranted further.

“Now you want to discuss boundaries?” she replied with a shake of her head, “I didn’t hear you complaining about them when you raided the refrigerator the other night and stole the rest of the dessert I made for Hank’s birthday or when you ‘borrowed’ Bobby’s secret stash of Dr. Pepper and left an assortment of empty bottles scattered around the rec room. Then again there was that that other time when you stomped into the rec room when Scott was watching something, If memory serves me correctly, you turned off the program he had on without asking permission in favor of putting on the latest game you decided you were going to watch. When Scott voiced his protest, you told him to piss off, stole his popcorn, again without asking and practically pushed him off the couch. Instead of telling you where to stick it, Scott merely scooted over and asked you to keep your feet off the coffee table to which you promptly told him to get fucked.”

“That’s because those things were stupid to be upset about. It was a championship game and even he could appreciate the importance of event over whatever garbage he was watching at the time,” Logan threw his arms up in the air in frustration, “I’m not an asshole for wanting to have a little time with the television.”

“Well actually…” Ororo opened her mouth to argue.

“I’m not. It wasn’t like Slim was doing anything important at the time.”

“He was actually reviewing the still unapproved promotional materials that the students had been working on for mutant-human relations seminar that…” Storm attempted to remind him with a pinched expression on her face.

“It was boring by the books material that an audience would’ve snoozed through anyway. Besides, I know for a fact that he enjoyed the game instead,” Logan shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to make light of his actions, “I changed the tone of the day making it better for him and everyone else in the room that was bored out of their minds falling asleep at the garbage that was on the television. As for the other stuff, if things are left unattended in the refrigerator, then they are community property. No one gives a damn about old food and with the coffee table, well, I don’t know why you are so bent out of shape…”

“That’s because you are inconsiderate Logan,” Ororo reminded him with a wrinkled expression carrying over her otherwise stoic features, “Perhaps it’s because you’re so used to being on your own that you haven’t quite grasped the concept of working together and having compromise within a family.”

“It isn’t about compromise. This conversation isn’t even supposed to be about me,” he huffed impatiently, “It’s about finding my missing cigars and I’m not really in the mood to listen so if you don’t mind, I’m going to bust someone’s head in unless they…”

“No Logan. That’s not what this is about. The way I see it, you don’t want to hear what I am saying to you because you cannot stand to listen to authority,” Ororo reminded him with a subtle shake of her head. Her lips curved upward but fought against it in her attempt to remain neutral on the subject, “At every twist and turn you balk against it no matter what the cost. If you break the rules, then the rest of us are supposed to simply sit back and accept that is your learned behavior when…”

“My things that are meticulously locked away aren’t community property,” Logan continued with an agitated quip, “If I have them in my room tucked away, then I don’t see the harm in keeping them here to entertain myself with during my free time away from teaching.”

“I don’t know what to tell you Logan,” Ororo offered up a casual shrug, “Rules are in place for a reason and…”

“God you sound so much like Summers,” Logan groaned outwardly, “I feel like I’m talking to him right about now given how unhelpful you’ve been.”

“So then go bother him instead of me given that I have other more important things that need attending to,” Ororo suggested preparing to move down the hallway and away from their conversation.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Logan switched directions moving towards the office he’d known his field leader would be in, “I imagine if anyone is responsible for breaking into my room, he’ll be the first person to ask considering he’s on top of every little misstep someone takes around here.”

“Except that might not work either since he’s not here,” Ororo cautioned him behind an amused expression, “He’s out of town on business today so…”

“That leaves me right where I started,” Logan huffed impatiently, “right back at square one.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to manage as long as you don’t find the offending perpetrator moving in on your meticulously locked away contraband,” she teased brushing past him to return to preparing her lesson plans for her upcoming class.

“Great,” Logan grumbled throwing his hands up in the air. He looked around the corridor deciding that he’d dealt with more than enough hassle for the afternoon. Given that he had free time on his hands, he decided that he’d find other means of keeping himself occupied.

Returning to his room, Logan did another search for the absent cigars hoping like hell that someone had taken advantage of his time spent with Storm and returned them. If he could find them then everything would be as it should be, but as with his first check, he came up empty. With a low rumble of a growl and a stomp he moved over to his closet preparing to grab his favorite blue and red flannel shirt and head out for another countryside ride on Scott’s motorcycle. It would be just the thing he needed to clear his head, he decided as he threw the doors of his closet open only to discover the shirt was missing. With a scowl, Logan stepped into his closet, carefully inspecting the articles of clothing around him until he was met by the first, faint lingering scent of familiarity.

“Summers,” he growled feeling his blood boil when realization hit him hard.

With a slam of the closet door and a thunderous stomp through the cramped hallways, Logan made his way down to Scott’s room with a mission in mind. He was going to stab first and ask questions later. He’d already decided that midway through the march through halls, but as he stood outside of Scott’s room a ball of fury and rage, he thought to Ororo’s words remembering that Scott was out for the day.

“So, what? It will make it easier for us to see what else he’s gotten himself into,” a voice inside Logan’s head decided when he reached for the doorknob only to discover it unlocked.

Without awaiting invitation, he eased the door open and stepped inside Scott’s room. Looking around, he sniffed the air around him hoping to seek out the source of his agitation, but much to his dismay all he discovered was a neatly made, perfectly wrinkle free bed before him. With a huff, he marched over to the nightstand pulling open the top drawer in the hopes that he would discover his missing stash of cigars. Instead he located a bright, yellow post-it note within the nearly empty drawer with his name upon it.

“Logan,” he read aloud seeing Summers’ all-too-perfect handwriting upon the page, “go to the garage and use my bike to find me. We need to have a long overdue conversation when you have a chance. I’ve already set the GPS so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding the place. P.S. Thanks for the Cubans. I’m starting to understand the appeal.”

“Asshole,” Logan slammed the drawer shut considering shredding it to pieces as Slim’s message had found its way to him at the worst possible moment in his search. Knowing that Scott was behind the missing items should’ve fanned the flames a bit, but instead Logan was an inferno of rage ready to tear his team leader apart if need be.

“You’d better be in here Summers,” Logan noted looking around the nearly empty parking lot of the seedy hotel Scott had arranged for them to meet up at for their ‘discussion’. There hadn’t been a soul in sight, but Logan imagined that was for the best now that he was armed with an uncontrollable anger and a need to rip Summers apart limb for limb.

Scowling Logan curled his fingers into a fist and began relentlessly pounding on the door. When his anger went without notice, Logan pulverized the wood again hoping that Summers would get the hint, but it seemed the harder Logan knocked, the less likely Scott was going to answer him. Snarling, Logan contemplated breaking through the door knowing only too well that places like this didn’t ask questions about its guests if it wasn’t necessary. Balling his fingers into a fist again, Logan plummeted away at the door ready to tear it apart it need be. His rage had simmered to a full-blown outburst dragging him to the edge of rationality with each pounding slam of his fist into the door. It was then when he noticed an annoyingly familiar yellow post-it-note in the window with an arrow and the word Tavern written upon it indicating that Scott was waiting for him in the shitty bar Logan had passed on his way to the motel.

“Great,” Logan snarled turning around and adjusting his jacket. He stomped across the parking lot listening to the sound of thunder rumble in the distance. Enraged he hopped back on Summers’ bike and found himself pushing forward into the night armed and ready for a fight that he determined would conclude with only one man standing at the end of the confrontation.

The smoky haze surrounded Logan as he sought out the source of his latest rage fueled ride away from the school. It didn’t take long for Logan to discover what he’d been seeking out in the form of Scott Summers perched over the side of a pool table holding a long, wooden cue stick in hand. He was leaning over the top of the green felt surface focusing on lining up the shot before him with one of Logan’s missing cigars pinched between his lips. It was enough to cause Logan’s rage to simmer, goading him to snarl. Incensed he pushed through the crowd making his way over towards the pool table just in time to see Scott sink the final shot on the game he’d been playing with one of the other customers at the bar.

“Damn it!” the man standing at the opposite side of the table cursed reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a wad of cash. He slapped it down on the tabletop in front of Scott with a huff before reaching for a discarded beer on the side of the table, “That was one hell of a game.”

“Want to play another?” Scott questioned stretching his long fingers out to swipe at his winnings. He curled his fingers around the cash, pulling it in closer to him with a wide smirk. He stood upright, angling his head to address his opponent with a wide, scandalous grin while keeping the cigar entrenched between his perfectly plump lips.

“Not a chance,” his opponent shook his head readily and stepped aside, “I can’t afford it.”

“That’s too bad,” Scott replied watching the man move away from the table to return to the bar that Logan had bypassed on the way into the booming business. Raising the beer bottle that had been perched beside him at the edge of the table, Scott held it in his fingers and saluted the man as he'd walked away, “Thanks for the beer.”

“Next time it’s on you,” the man huffed not bothering to look back at Scott.

In the man’s exit, Logan observed Scott moving to rack up the balls again undoubtedly in the hopes of playing out another game with another unsuspecting opponent who didn’t understand just what level of skill Scott carried with him.

“Idiot,” Logan mouthed to himself knowing full well that Scott was a master of the game and anyone who faced him was bound to lose such a feat.

Now in the smoky haze of the bar, Logan watched Scott finish off his beer before motioning to one of the waitresses to provide him with another round. Scott leaned in closer to the woman, whispering something in her ear before depositing a small portion from his wad of cash on her tray and causing her to walk off with a flirty smile. She breezed past Logan leaving him to focus on Scott alone and basking in the aftermath of his victory. Scott’s back was turned towards Logan at the far end of the table with his fingers rolling over the balls he’d placed down upon the green felt. With a wiggle of his hips, Scott was leaning forward to give Logan a glimpse of the jean clad ass that Logan had not so secretly coveted back at the school.

For some reason Scott’s jeans appeared to be tighter than usual, framing his perfectly sculpted bottom in ways that made Logan temporarily forget about the rage that was pumping through his veins. Instead his breathing grew ragged when his focus returned to Scott’s fingers, catching the way they eased up and over the smooth wooden surface of the cue stick. With each drawn out movement Scott’s fingers made over the long, evenly sculpted wood Logan determined that Scott was seemingly oblivious to the way his skilled fingers could be construed as a highly sexual in awakening in Logan’s otherwise sour mood. With each upward slide, Logan found his eyes drawn to Scott’s fingers, to the hands he’d often clashed with, moving up and down, circling and pressing until Logan discovered his body was responding to the movement leaving him increasingly uncomfortable in his jeans. With a twist of his hips, Scott spun around away from the table when the waitress returned with two more beer bottles on her tray. She set one down on the tabletop before handing another to Scott, who once again leaned in closer to whisper something undoubtedly flirty in her ear. It caused her to giggle and reach out to run her fingers over the familiar lines of Logan’s shirt, caressing the crimson and blue flannel covering Scott’s chest with sultry intent.

“Son of a bitch,” Logan mouthed seeing the woman fingering the button on his shirt. While it was something that he wore on most occasions simply to be comfortable, on Summers it looked like pure sex as Scott left the top few buttons undone revealing the smooth lines of his flawlessly toned and sculpted chest. Yes, the shirt was too big for him in a lot of ways, but somehow, Scott managed to make it work in revealing a sexy, carefree presence at the bar. When the waitress reached out to wrap her arm around Scott’s chest, blatantly moving in to cop a feel, Logan felt his blood boiling. Enraged all over again and remembering his purpose for being at the bar, he marched forward to sever Scott’s night of flirting with the immensely annoying waitress.

“Slim,” Logan practically snarled addressing him in a harsh, aggressive tone. Immediately the waitress balked back with wide eyes and a worried expression on her face. She looked between Scott and Logan, clearly uncomfortable with Logan’s arrival when Scott simply nodded to her once again.

“Thanks for the beer,” Scott flashed her a smile and within seconds the apprehension that carried over her face was gone, replaced by the subtle, crimson glow of her cheeks at Scott’s smooth, sultry tone. It appeared to be enough as she giggled and moved to tend to another customer at the bar leaving Logan and Scott alone with one another to engaged in the standoff Logan had anticipated on his ride over.

“So,” Logan snarled folding his arms in front of his chest. His face twisted with the anger he carried with him, but his cock protested his defiance instead revealing the hard heat of arousal that Scott had stirred inside of him with his blatant movements, “What’s this all about?”

“This…” Scott shrugged discarding the cue stick in favor of circling around the table to stand before Logan, “is about burning off some excess energy given that I haven’t been able to take my motorcycle out for a ride for the last week or so when I had free time.”

“So that’s what this is about huh?” Logan arched a suspicious brow wondering how in the hell Summers had suddenly come off as being so incredibly sexy in Logan’s clothing, smoking his cigars in a place Logan would undoubtedly frequent had he gotten the opportunity before tonight. If it was any other night, Logan would be the one at the bar playing pool and flirting with the waitress, but now clad in Logan’s clothing, Scott appeared to take away Logan’s title for the evening.

“That’s right,” Scott nodded stepping in closer to Logan. He angled his head to the left taking the time to scrutinize the obvious rage that carried over Logan before he motioned to the pool table behind him, “Up for a game?”

“After I watched you hustle that idiot before,” Logan practically recoiled at the suggestion, “Not a chance Summers. I know better than to pretend it would be a fair game.”

“I don’t cheat,” Scott feigned offense. He brought his own hand up over his chest drawing attention to the movement his fingers made over the button that the waitress had been pawing at with her crimson colored nail a short while earlier, “I can’t help it if I’ve just practiced and…”

“You have a distinct advantage in this particular situation Slim,” Logan stepped forward bridging the distance between them when their gazes locked in a heated exchange. Opening his mouth, Logan prepared to unleash the anger that had fueled his ride over to the bar, but as the teasing tip of Scott’s pink tongue darted out beyond Scott’s plump, parted lips, Logan found himself at a loss for words.

“Afraid to be humiliated in front of a group of strangers?” Scott wiggled his brow suggestively. Without missing a beat, he reached out for the beer bottle that the waitress had deposited on the tabletop seconds earlier. He curled his fingers around the long neck, gripping it with expert precision all the while keeping his ruby quartz covered gaze upon Logan standing before him. With a salacious smirk, Scott extended the bottle towards Logan before wiggling his brow once again, “What do you say? Up for a challenge against your field leader?”

“I’m smarter than to accept that kind of challenge,” Logan replied reaching out to claim the beer as his own. As his fingers touched over Scott’s he felt a burst of energy between them, reminding him of just how sexy Summers looked unkempt and pretending to be comfortable in Logan’s attire, biting down on Logan’s cigar and drinking like he had Logan’s healing factor.

“But not smart enough to refrain from stealing my motorcycle whenever the mood hit you,” Scott’s lips curved downward in the beginnings of a scowl.

“Hey, you were the one that offered it to me tonight,” Logan reminded him with a surprisingly nervous laugh and an uneasy shake of his head.

Watching Scott reach for his own beer bottle, Logan swallowed down hard. Gripping the neck of his own bottle Logan was entranced when Scott’s lips surrounded the bottle top. With a hard gulp and a smooth swallow, Logan found himself wishing more than anything that he was that bottle. As Scott’s fingers surrounded the neck of it and his throat bobbed with each swallow, Logan found himself thinking less about the situation he’d anticipated and more about the one he hadn’t seen coming.

“I knew that you’d be intrigued,” Scott finally broke through Logan’s naughty thoughts long enough to lean back against the tabletop, “but if we’re going to get serious with one another, perhaps a game is in order.”

“Fine,” Logan decided taking a brazen step forward. He almost anticipated Scott moving back to maintain a safe distance between them, but Scott stood his ground, frozen in place when Logan’s ravenous eyes carried over him, “but not this one.”

“Why not?” Scott challenged reaching out to touch Logan’s shoulder in a brief, flirty press, “Afraid I will shame you before this night is over?”

“I know for a fact that I don’t stand a chance of winning against you in this setting,” Logan stated plainly. He reached out behind Scott to grip at the tabletop, instinctively gripping at the edge when Scott leaned back against it. Scott’s head tipped back, allowing Logan access to the seductive scent that carried over him. It was unlike anything Logan had ever experienced in his life and yet so distinctly Scott Summers. With a snarl, Logan pressed forward pinning Scott against the side of the table without consideration to the reason behind their meeting, “How about we play another game?”

“Such as?” Scott’s lips curved upward in the beginnings of a wicked smirk. He reached out with his empty hand to touch the center of the black t-shirt that Logan was wearing for their exchange, “What do you have in mind?”

“What about a drinking game?” Logan challenged with an evocative wiggle of his brow.

“That would bring you at a distinct advantage thus making me the loser before we even begin,” Scott argued with a shake of his head, “Not neutral enough.”

“Hmm…well if we can’t play pool and we can’t drink, what else can we do?” Logan mused when Scott stood upright discarding Logan’s expensive cigar in an ashtray strategically placed at the side of the tabletop. He stepped forward offering up a staggering step when Logan realized that Scott looked damn sexy in his shirt—better than he ever had.

“I can think of a few things,” Scott slurred reaching out to wrap his lean muscular arms around Logan’s thick, broad shoulders, “What do you say we head on out of here and go back over to the motel?”

“To play a game?” Logan’s eyes widened with surprise.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Scott’s grin expanded revealing a far naughtier side to the man Logan had spent a great deal of time stewing over on the ride to the motel.

“If it isn’t necessarily a game, would you have another name for it?” Logan inquired sliding in closer to Scott despite his initial irritation at the idea of facing down his squad leader earlier in the evening.

“A few of them actually,” Scott nodded earnestly. He licked his lips again, his breath cascading over the side of Logan’s neck when his hold on Logan’s shoulder intensified, “Starting with the two of us getting naked and…”

“And?” Logan’s brow perked with sudden interest.

“I teach you a lesson for not having manners enough to ask for permission when claiming something that is not yours,” Scott replied reaching out to slide his fingers over the center of Logan’s chest, “Contrary to your current belief, consent is very sexy Logan and it’s something that you need to be educated on.”

“Consent,” Logan repeated eyeing Scott with newfound scrutiny, “about taking your bike?”

“Among other things,” Scott added with a wicked, commanding smirk, “If you want to fully explore all the pleasures the world could provide you Logan, then you have to learn to ask for permission to do just that.”

“I see,” Logan nodded again all the while unable to refrain from watching Scott like a hawk in his movements, “and you’re offering me permission to…?”

“Learn a lesson in obedience and manners,” Scott licked his lips, making no qualms about the direction his thoughts were taking when he pushed in closer to Logan, “You’ve spent far too much time doing as you please any time you desire without any real consequences to those actions. It’s time that you understand you can’t just take what you want when you want it without asking for it first.”

“Slim?” Logan questioned when Scott’s damp, parted lips were suddenly pressed against the side of his neck.

“Do you want to fuck me Logan?” Scott tossed out blatantly. His tongue was drawing teasing circles over Logan’s skin, causing Logan’s heart to plummet in his chest.

“Is this a trick question Slim?” Logan swallowed down hard. He could feel the chilled beer bottle Scott was loosely holding pressed into the space between his shoulder blades offering a stark contrast to the heat Scott was stirring up inside of him.

It seemed with each flick of Scott’s tongue, Logan’s intent for the night dissipated instead returning to the hot, wild desire that rocked over him each time he’d been alone with Scott for more than five minutes. For so long he’d been convinced it was rage, determined to let it be anger that made him so hot, but with Scott’s hands roaming over his spine, crushing him in closer, Logan found that perhaps it was more than simply being annoyed by the man before him.

“I wanna play Logan. Let’s go back to the motel,” Scott practically purred when he took Logan’s earlobe between his teeth. He bit down with a low growl, guiding Logan to lose sight of the bar as Scott’s sultry words breathed into his skin, “What do you say? Wanna take that mattress for a test drive?”

“What?” Logan questioned when Scott’s roaming hands pushed down over his chest, spreading warmth everywhere he touched. With each movement Logan’s mind shut off, seemingly caught up in the wild fantasy he’d clearly conjured up about the man who should be enraged at his presence. However, when Scott’s wandering fingers plucked over Logan’s belt buckle, moving over a dangerously southern patten in the middle of the crowded bar, Logan realized that lust hadn’t been the motivation for Scott’s surprising outburst. Instead the row of empty beer bottles over the side of the pool table and the scent of alcohol on Scott’s breath served as the ultimate form of punishment in revealing just how far from expected this night was turning out to be, “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Not the last time I checked,” Scott shook his head dismissively. He stood upright searching Logan’s concerned features before a smile touched over his lips, “With that unruly attitude of yours would it really matter if I was Logan?”

“I’m an asshole Scott, but not that big of an asshole,” Logan explained stepping forward to pin Scott up against the pool table, “As hot as you are, as you said before consent is pretty damn sexy especially when my partner is sober.”

“So, you’ll take my bike without asking permission, but you won’t take me when I offer myself up on a platter,” Scott’s nose wrinkled with the words rolling over his lips.

“Considering the mixed messages I’m getting here, I’m not sure if I’m reading this situation right,” Logan backpedaled struggling to weigh out the conflicting thoughts overtaking his mind now that Scott was pressed up against him, grinding his body against Logan’s with evidence of Scott’s desire pouring out over his skin onto Logan. The heat building between them set Logan’s head on a tailspin, causing him to question his sanity when his arm snaked around Scott’s waist to crush him in closer.

“Then what if I told you this was only my second beer?” Scott questioned brushing the chilled bottle up against Logan’s neck once again.

“I’d say you were lying,” Logan nodded over to the row of beer bottles that lined up the edge of the pool table, “Those bottles tell another story Slim.”

“Those aren’t mine,” Scott wrinkled his nose in response, “I have been waiting for you for a while Logan. I played a lot of games trying to pass the time until you arrived.”

“Is that right?” Logan arched a curious brow watching as Scott’s lips curved upward in the beginnings of a naughty smirk.

“Reach into my pocket and you’ll see the winnings I’ve acquired,” Scott suggested with a playful expression on his face, “I triumphed over a lot of opponents before you arrived.”

“Right,” Logan decided to play along, sliding his fingers into Scott’s pants pocket only to make direct contact with the part of Scott he’d been hoping to avoid with Scott’s sobriety in question.

“Mmm…” Scott pressed forward burying his head in Logan’s shoulder, “Is that enough of an answer for you Logan? How does that feel?”

“Like you’re setting me up for trouble,” Logan grunted when Scott’s palm pressed over Logan’s ass offering up a firm, commanding squeeze.

“On the contrary, I’m offering up a taste of what consent can do for you in offering you the best night of your life should you be willing to bend to my demands,” Scott promised pulling back just enough to arch his lips in closer to Logan’s with a naughty, wild grin, “Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll give it back.”

“Slim…” Logan’s lips parted, his mind traveling down a darkened road as Scott’s fingers tapered off over the center of Logan’s chest to feel the warmth of his desire burning beneath the fabric.

“If you want to keep riding my bike, then you’re going to have to let me ride your big, hard…” Scott’s words carried an edge to them that hadn’t been present in their earlier exchanges. With his tongue teasing out beyond the crease in his lips, Logan felt the cool, calculated slide of Scott’s fingers pressing up between his thighs seeking out the object in question as Logan swallowed down hard.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to cop a feel Slim,” Logan cautioned when Scott’s fingers surrounded him, boldly massaging him through his jeans.

With the movement, Logan practically snarled considering how long it had been since he’d experienced another’s touch. Hell, the very idea of someone reaching out to him after a painfully long dry spell set everything inside of him ablaze. His mind was reeling with naughty images of Scott naked and stretched out beneath him, screaming out his name and begging for more. Swallowing down hard, Logan felt his body greedily responding to Scott’s touch with the desire Scott harbored from within was taunting him, practically daring him to lose sight of the man and reveal the beast that hungered for the sexy, stoic man before him.

“Do you want me to stop?” Scott’s words taunted. His palm centered in over Logan’s inseam, rising to offer up a different feel for their conversation.

“I didn’t say that,” Logan snarled reaching for Scott’s wrist and coaxing Scott’s grip over him once again. Despite the inner struggle, Logan goaded Scott’s hand over the fabric coaxing Scott to learn what excited him with the guidance of Logan’s fingers over Scott’s wrist, positioning Scott’s fingers exactly where he wanted them, “It’s just…”

“What?” Scott questioned lazily continuing to tease Logan through his jeans.

“Why are you doing this?” Logan couldn’t help but ask as Scott’s tantalizing fingers abruptly released Logan’s body much to Logan’s dismay.

“Because I think it’s long past overdue that we deal with this,” Scott removed his hand between the two of them, while drawing emphasis to his words, “thing between us. The longer we keep circling around the real issue, the harder it is going to be to come to an understanding with one another.”

“What I understand is that you’re working overtime to get my dick hard and I don’t know how long I’m going to pretend to be a gentleman in all of this,” Logan revealed swallowing down hard when Scott turned away from him. Reaching for the cue stick once again, Scott focused his energies on the balls he’d aligned before Logan’s approach.

“Perhaps we should just focus on a game here then,” Scott shrugged, bending over and suggestively wiggling his ass knowing full well the effect Logan was having to the stimulus.

“Now that you mention it,” Logan decided stepping forward to bring his large, powerful hands out over Scott’s strong, muscular thighs seizing them in a rough, backward pull.

With a slow, teasing grip, Logan stepped forward and guided his hands up over Scott’s hips, carefully dragging out the movement before pressing his groin up against Scott’s sexy angled body. His hips thrust forward shamelessly grinding into Scott’s bottom and causing Scott to let out a labored breath. Still Scott feigned an air of focus, carefully maintained his sense of control guiding the cue stick forward to strike the balls before him. Instantly they scattered and two balls sank into the holes making it evidently clear that Scott’s hustling skills were immune to the power of animalistic persuasion.

“Nice shot,” Logan slurred squeezing at Scott’s hips again. His fingers rounded Scott’s hips with his left-hand centering in over the button on Scott’s jeans.

“I know,” Scott boasted devoid of the modesty he carried with him at the school. His gaze never wavered from the table.

Taking it as a sign of encouragement, Logan’s thumb returned to a loop on Scott’s belt buckle once again considering their options. He felt Scott’s upward movement, preparing to slide out of Logan’s arms to line up his next shot, but Logan’s fingers remained firm over Scott’s hips, “Let’s cut the bullshit Slim. You already won this round.”

“Want to quit while I’m ahead?” Scott practically moaned arching back into Logan’s chest. He blew out a sharp breath as he gripped the cue stick in hand. His head dropped back over Logan’s shoulder when Logan’s fingers fanned out over Scott’s hips, pushing forward to center in over the front of Scott’s jeans once again.

“Who said I’m going to let you win the next round?” Logan challenged taking advantage of their positioning and nibbling on Scott’s ear. The teasing caused Scott to moan, quietly at first, but as Logan’s fingers pushed over Scott’s X-shaped belt buckle, Scott twitched against him, rolling his hips back with approval.

“Face it, Logan. I’ve already mastered this game,” Scott’s words came out in a harsh, labored hiss. His fingers were gripping the cue stick, but his body was ablaze with temptation, guiding his hips forward just enough for Logan to caress him through the denim. There was no mistaking the hunger between them, no denying how turned on Scott was sliding back against Logan’s thick, eager arousal as Logan’s teeth sank down harder into Scott’s earlobe.

Expelling a sharp breath, Logan looked around the bar catching on to the fact that neither one of them had perked any interest in the remaining customers. Above the loud booming music and the ambient noise in the bar, Logan decided it was time to make his move. Deftly popping open the button on Scott’s jeans, Logan boldly reached inside, pushing past the denim to discover that Scott hadn’t been wearing the same, proper white briefs Logan had witnessed him wearing after a shower in the locker room. Instead Scott’s body was exposed, served up to Logan on a platter when Logan’s fingers surrounded Scott’s burgeoning arousal.

“Mmm….” Scott’s muted whimper barely reached Logan’s ears, coming out in a soft moan when Logan’s unwavering fingers surrounded him. Instead of preventing Logan’s bold actions, Scott released the cue stick with one hand, silently shifting his hips and encouraging Logan’s explorations by pushing Logan’s fingers deeper into his jeans.

“You’re playing with fire Slim,” Logan cautioned stepping in closer and angling his hips to shield Scott’s exposed body from the rest of the room, “You sure you’re okay with this?”

Although they were surrounded by customers in the bar, the pool table Scott had selected for their misadventure was reasonably private, offering up the perfect context for Logan’s palm to curl over Scott’s thick, solid length, taking the time to trace over every ridge and contour. With an upward slide of Logan’s fingers, Scott arched back, twisting his hips just enough to build a friction between them underneath the dim overhead ceramic light illuminating the table.

“Yeah, just don’t let me get burned,” Scott commanded gripping Logan’s wrist tighter than before. His lips parted as his head tipped back, practically falling onto Logan’s shoulder with the movement his hips made. His face was flushed, his body hard and distended when Logan’s fingers worked their magic over Scott’s body, tantalizing every inch of perfection in his grasp with slow, circling presses over Scott’s heated skin, “Logan…”

“Slim…” Logan breathed over Scott’s shoulder, taking the initiative to bite down over the skin of Scott’s exposed neck. Immediately Scott shuddered and sprang back against Logan overtaken by the combination of Logan’s hot, wet tongue darting over his skin and Logan’s frenzied fingers exploring the darker side of Scott’s desire for him. With each steady caress of Logan’s fingers and every circling sweep of Logan’s tongue, Scott’s hips shifted, his muscular bottom gyrating in a determined pattern that made no mistake about the hunger rising between them.

“That’s it,” Scott’s harsh whisper surrounded the smoky atmosphere of the bar, pushing forward a rush of thrill and the forbidden.

With Logan’s fingers over Scott’s cock, doing the unthinkable, Scott’s smooth, stoic resolve was diminishing rapidly, revealing instead the precision and determination of a man lost in the throes of temptation. With every movement Logan’s fingers made, Scott’s bottom returned the favor in kind pressing increasingly harder against Logan’s jean clad arousal in sharp, aggressive movements meant to heighten Logan’s growing desire. Every bump and grind of Scott’s muscular bottom framing over the budge in Logan’s jeans served as a painful reminder of how turned on Logan was leaving him knowing damn well that their not-so-subtle movements would undoubtedly give away their actions should anyone else be bothered to turn in their direction. However, as Logan scanned the bar once again, he realized not another living soul gave a damn about the boundaries they were tearing apart with one another. Instead of second guessing himself, Logan continued to ease Scott along towards completion, pushing him forward on the erotic journey, increasingly on edge with pleasure surrounding his flushed features and complementary backward rocking hips. 

“Easy Slim,” Logan whispered abrasively over the back of Scott’s ear, allowing the drawn-out sweep of his thumb over Scott’s leaking body to confirm how close his companion was to the edge of freedom.

With the movement, Scott shuddered smacking his lips together. Recklessly his bottom ground up against Logan once again this time with sharp, jutting impulses carrying over him. His lips parted in surrender threatening to reveal the loud cries of pleasurable release that Logan had longed to witness from the prim and proper man before him. However, knowing what kind of response that might generate from the rest of the bar, Logan tightly clasped his right hand over Scott’s mouth to silence the sound of his impending orgasm when raves rocked over his body in increasingly violent shudders.

“That’s it, darlin’. Let go,” Logan whispered soothingly over the back of Scott’s ear, using all his strength to refrain from going over the edge himself when his hand pumped over Scott’s length over and over again, catching the damp outpour of sensation that carried in his release.

With the words Scott gripped the edge of the pool table allowing his body to take control, causing him to twist and undulate against Logan driving Logan closer to the edge himself on the verge of blatantly coming undone himself. He felt his resolve slipping further until he used every ounce of energy to step forward pressing Scott against the edge of the table. Still with Scott’s body vibrating against him, it had the opposite effect as Logan squeezed his arm harder around Scott’s torso all the while sinking his teeth deep into Scott’s shoulder when his own surprising orgasm rocked over his body beneath the dark fabric of his jeans.

“Fuck,” Logan cursed unable to shake the uneasiness that carried over him. His fingers carried over Scott’s damp skin, carrying traces of Scott’s hot release as his own shamelessly stirred within his jeans. His breath was heaving from his chest, his body curled around Scott’s jean covered ass leaving him feeling like less of the victor in their exchange and more like a man carried over by desire for a man who should’ve been anything, but welcoming to their exchange.

“Yeah,” Scott’s labored breath reached Logan’s ears when Scott’s fingers released the edge of the table in favor of sweeping back to grip at Logan’s outer thigh. With the movement, Logan felt tremors up and down his spine, reminding him of just how hot the man in his arms was when the rest of the world wasn’t paying attention.

For a few minutes they remained perfectly still, caught up in one another. Logan barely paid attention to the sounds moving around the bar, to the others who hadn’t been privy to what they’d shared with one another as their debate had sparked something far different between them beneath the dim lighting of the bar.

“Did you come undone?” Scott’s raspy voice questioned. His light, massaging fingers pressed over the outer seam on Logan’s thigh, carrying with the movement a sense of comfort and ease despite their surprising earlier turmoil with one another.

“Only because you’re so sexy, Slim,” Logan licked a hot, wet line over the side of Scott’s neck, unable to resist savoring the experience for a few seconds longer before reality set in.

“Good,” Scott’s words fell from his lips with a muted, uneasy laugh, “because I’d hate to be the only one that…”

“You aren’t,” Logan promised kissing Scott’s shoulder and offering up a tease of sentiment. He grudgingly pulled his hand out of Scott’s pants doing his best to be discreet in the movement when he felt Scott’s fingers clasp over his wrist.

“There are some napkins near the ashtray,” Scott offered up breathlessly, his body still taking in the weight of his release with his spine pressed in against Logan’s broad, muscular chest.

“Those will help, but first…” Logan whispered warmly against Scott’s ear, doing his best to regain control as his taunting fingers pushed up over Scott’s shoulder into his own waiting mouth. He sucked down on his fingers, causing Scott to swallow down hard, too shaken to speak up as Logan swallowed down the taste of the man that he’d set over the edge moments earlier.

“Logan…” Scott’s face grew a deep shade of crimson when Logan’s finger slipped out of his mouth instead moving to trace over the center of Scott’s plump, bottom lip in an unhurried, gradual demonstration.

“Delicious as I anticipated,” Logan practically purred when his free hand stretched out to collect the napkins Scott had pointed out.

“Logan I…” Scott swallowed down hard, opting instead to pull Logan’s finger in past his lips to taste the combination of himself and Logan over Logan’s skin.

“You’re delectable darlin,” Logan promised carefully cleaning up the mess they’d made at the corner of the pool table with one another. He stepped forward, carefully doting on Scott’s body all the while knowing that cleanup on himself might prove to be a bit more of a challenge in their circumstances.

“Do you need help?” Scott asked still gripping at Logan’s thigh.

“I can handle it,” Logan reached for another wad of napkins, taking the time to look around the bar before swallowing down hard. His gaze shifted from the jukebox to the table of bikers near the front of the bar before he carefully slipped the napkins between him and Scott to do his best at dealing with the situation they’d created.

“You sure?” Scott asked preparing to turn around when Logan paused to squeeze at Scott’s hip to keep him in position at the table.

“Just pretend like you’re focusing on the game,” Logan suggested doing his best to make the both of them presentable enough to walk out the doors of the bar without anyone suspecting what they’d done with one another, “If you just look like you’re invested in this match between us…”

“I already came out a winner,” Scott teased seemingly at ease in their situation when he wiggled his hips back with laughter.

“I think we were both winners on this one,” Logan argued tossing the napkins into the trash bin before his arms surrounded Scott’s waist again. Leaning forward he placed his chin on Scott’s shoulder simply savoring the warmth of Scott before him when a sigh spilled over his lips, “Although it does beg the question of what happens next?”

“Next time you come undone,” Scott spoke up as the long, lingering seconds passed between them, “I want you to do it inside of me.”

Surrounding Scott in his arms, Logan gently rubbed over Scott’s stomach, taking the time to savor the warmth of the man beneath his touch as they weighed out their options with one another.

“Deal. Now how about we call it even and get out of here?” Logan finally conceded unable to ignore the renewed hunger his squad leader had sparked inside of him.

“I don’t want to go back to the motel,” Scott shook his head firmly. He gripped the cue stick harder with whitening knuckles as Logan massaged Scott’s abdomen further.

“We’ll undoubtedly get arrested if we stick around and do what we’re both thinking about starting here. I think we’ve pushed the envelope far enough at this table tonight,” Logan cautioned as Scott released the cue stick with one hand in favor of reaching back to grip at Logan’s thigh.

“They have a back room reserved for parties,” Scott’s voice barely whispered above the music in the room.

“In this dump?” Logan questioned licking a scorching, damp line over the side of Scott’s neck.

“Yes, actually and it’s empty right now,” Scott answered readily perking up at the thought of renewed promise of temptation between them, “All we have to do is sneak back there when no one is looking and pick up where we left off here.”

“Let’s be sure to take some time warming up again,” Logan suggested pressing a kiss into Scott’s shoulder, “Maybe figure out what’s happening here.”

“You’re going to get something else to remember if you prove to me that you’re sorry for stealing my bike,” Scott’s voice held a playful warning, returning to their earlier conversation with one another.

“You’re on,” Logan agreed as Scott detangled from his arms, reaching for his beer bottle once again and wiggling away with just enough of a saunter to make Logan’s pulse quicken. There was something in his walk, in the way that he flawlessly glided through the room as if he hadn’t just come undone at Logan’s touch a short while earlier or had a care in the world. He was the sexiest man in the place, but he’d used his ability to blend—to go undetected until he slipped past the roped off section of the bar into the darkness beyond Logan’s line of vision.

“Son of a bitch,” Logan mouthed to himself taking a few seconds to pace himself, to consider how his night had taken such a dramatic turn. It seemed that all his rage and anger had evaporated replaced by the heavy animalistic hunger he’d carried for the one man who’d continually pushed him past the point of reason and control.

“Here goes nothing,” Logan decided reaching for the still lit cigar Scott had discarded on the ashtray and pinching it between his lips. Taking a puff of it, he allowed the taste to linger before stepping away from the table long enough to survey the bar. As with any of the places Logan would consider frequenting, this one was loud and raucous, absolutely the last place a man like Scott Summers would be caught spending his time. That in itself was motivation for Logan to follow this through, to see just what angle Scott was working as he found himself following the path Scott had taken a short while earlier slipping in underneath the roped off section of the bar to enter into the darkness Scott had disappeared behind.

“I swear to God Slim if you are messing with me after what just happened, then so help me…” Logan mouthed to himself preparing to get to the heart of what was guiding Scott’s actions when he heard the sound of clicking in the distance.

“Take one more step and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” a harsh, angry voice snarled causing Logan’s desires to take a backseat to the new situation he’d encountered. He could feel the hard press of metal against his cheek accompanied by the scent of motor oil and cigars, but beyond that he could sense that his unwelcome companion wasn’t the only set of eyes upon him in the darkened room.

“Look buddy,” Logan raised his hands in the air when he felt his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness to discover three other men circling around him, moving in for what he anticipated to be a less than friendly encounter, “you picked the wrong guy to fuck with tonight.”

“Is that right?” the man with the gun pushed it into Logan’s face once again and caused Logan to lose his cigar in the process, “Because the way I see it, you’re the one who is in the wrong place at the wrong time considering that the sign said to stay out.”

“I was looking for the men’s room,” Logan replied raising his hands in the air, “I meant you no harm. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Oh no,” the man with the gun poked at his face again, “you’re not going anywhere now. The way I see it you were snooping around and that can only mean one thing.”

“I smell a rat,” a second man decided as his portly face was revealed through the shadows, “Who sent you here?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Logan shifted his eyes around the darkness, considering his options. He considered Scott’s retreat behind the roped off area wondering if Scott had somehow been taken under by the four men who closed in upon him. A flash of worry carried over him, causing him to question his partner’s disappearance with the threat of danger all around Logan.

“Try me,” the man beside him challenged as Logan lowered his hands. He felt the poke of the gun into his cheek, but he ignored the urge to simply tear the guy’s face off. Instead he sniffed the air around him, struggling to pick up on any clues to Scott’s whereabouts. When he came up empty, he lowered his hands completely allowing himself to count to three behind his adrenaline laced veins.

“You really don’t want to fuck with me tonight,” Logan cautioned the men around him.

“Is that right?” Another one of the men laughed causing Logan’s agitation to rise with the chorus of chortles that followed.

“Why not?” the man with the gun questioned with a snarl.

“Because to be honest with you, I was kind of looking to get laid tonight and the four of you really aren’t helping my situation all things considered,” Logan explained in a smooth and even voice. He curled his fingers into fists at his sides, weighing out his possible options for dealing with the new annoyance in his life, “Don’t get me wrong my partner is toying with the idea of exploring a more adventurous side, but I don’t think he’s really looking for a group thing.”

“Most certainly not,” Scott’s voice rose through the darkness as one of the men in the distance dropped to the ground. The thump was followed by the sound of breaking glass, which Logan deduced was Scott’s beer bottle he’d walked away from Logan with. In a flash, the man beside Logan with the gun was searching for Scott through the darkness waving his gun wildly in the air when Logan released his claws.

“Son of a bitch,” Logan snarled slashing through the shadows and tearing the gun in half. The barrel dropped down to the ground causing the guy beside Logan to turn to face Logan with shocked horror behind his pudgy face.

“What are you?” the man questioned behind wide, worried eyes.

“Your worst nightmare,” Logan answered readily retracting the claws on his left hand and balling his fingers into a fist. He raised it up in the air and slammed it directly into the center of the man’s face causing the man to let out a squeaking sound as he toppled to the ground before Logan. Stepping forward Logan looked down at the unconscious man before turning to address his companions. However, in Logan’s anger, it appeared that Scott had taken down the other three using his skills to neutralize the situation that they’d unknowingly entered.

“What the hell was that Slim?” Logan snarled watching as Scott rubbed his hands together and shook his head.

“I don’t know,” Scott divulged with a small shrug, “I noticed there was a men’s room back here that was open, so I went to freshen up before…”

“You left me to deal with all of this,” Logan stepped over one of the fallen men. Boldly he reached out to Scott, guiding Scott into his chest before their lips collided in a wild, frantic meld of lips, teeth and tongues leaving each man fighting for dominance in the exchange.

“What are you complaining about? I did most of the work here,” Scott pointed out with a heaving scowl as they parted, “I took out three of them. You only dealt with one of them.”

“The one with the gun,” Logan noted with a snarl, “He was going to shoot me and…”

“That one had a knife,” Scott nodded to one of the men doubled over on the ground beyond where they stood with one another.

“Big deal,” Logan shrugged his shoulders, “I can deal with knifes.”

“And I can deal with guns,” Scott’s fingers balled Logan’s shirt up in his fist before wrenching Logan in closer for another urgent kiss, “You aren’t as terrifying as you think you are Logan.”

“And you’re not nearly as accommodating as you think you are leading me back here to face this,” Logan’s hands were sliding down over Scott’s torso, pushing his way over the long, lean lines of perfection before he gripped at Scott’s ass, “I know you said you weren’t going to make this easy for me, but…”

“You still took it upon yourself to tell a group of strangers that you were going to get laid tonight,” Scott’s teeth sank into Logan’s bottom lip. He bit down just enough to cause Logan to sneer at the jolt of pain that carried over him.

“I am, aren’t I?” Logan squeezed his hands up over Scott’s spine, coaxing Scott to press into him, to bring their bodies closer into contact until every trembling breath Scott’s body made caused Logan’s to shake, overtaken by hunger and desire for a man who’d suddenly become the center of the universe as far as he was concerned.

“That all depends,” Scott mouthed tugging on the dark, messy strands of Logan’s hair, “Are you going to take my motorcycle again without asking permission first?”

“How about I take you over the back of that motorcycle of yours right now?” Logan questioned arching his head back as Scott’s teeth grazed over the side of his neck, driving him wild with the rush of thrill he’d experienced at Scott’s touch.

“Hmm…I don’t know…” Scott slurred licking a damp, sultry pattern over the outer shell of Logan’s ear, “I don’t hear you asking for permission.”

“Please,” Logan mouthed reaching down to guide Scott’s thigh around his hip, bringing them even closer together in the darkened back room at the bar.

“We’re going to have to clean this mess up,” Scott groaned pushing forward to meet Logan’s movements, bumping and grinding against the man who’d infuriated the hell out of him time and time again, “If anyone sees this and thinks to call the authorities…”

“Then these bozos will spend the night in jail while we…” Logan reached out to seize the back of Scott’s hair to force Scott’s glasses covered gaze onto him once again, “can get back on track with one another.”

“Better yet,” Scott’s words came out with more determination than before as his nails scraped over the back of Logan’s shirt, “let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Logan decided stepping forward and guiding Scott up off the ground into his arms. With Scott’s thighs surrounding his waist, Logan moved in for kiss after urgent kiss circling through the darkness until finally their lips parted, “Tell me this place has a back exit.”

“Over there,” Scott nodded over Logan’s shoulder to reveal the red glowing light through the darkness.

“Sounds good to me,” Logan moved in the direction of the light before he felt Scott’s palms dig into his shoulders.

“Logan, wait,” Scott’s voice carried through the darkness causing Logan to take pause in their retreat.

“What?” Logan questioned angling his head up to focus on the man in his arms.

“Just ask before you take my motorcycle, okay?” Scott’s voice shifted with something Logan couldn’t quite place in the moment with Logan’s arms surrounding him.

“Fine,” Logan conceded when Scott’s fingers skimmed over the side of his face, coaxing Logan into a different kind of kiss in the darkness, “I’ll think about it before…”

“Logan…” Scott spoke up in a warning tone as their lips parted.

“Oh alright,” Logan groaned outwardly, “but how about we just work out something where the next time I feel like taking it, I just take you along with me for the ride?”

“As long as I’m in the mood,” Scott teased pushing his fingers through Logan’s messy dark hair as their lips collided once again.

“You in the mood now?” Logan’s muffled words buzzed against Scott’s lips, coaxing the two of them to put the night behind them in favor of a much more thorough exploration of each other.

“I could be. As long as you keep up with your promise to show me a good time on my motorcycle, I’m sure we can work it out,” Scott promised as Logan found himself suddenly very grateful for the second chance at getting things right with his sexy squad leader now that they’d vowed to get things settled between them. Perhaps with a little luck and a lot of practice they would be able to find a means of moving past the lingering animosity and making it work for the both of them in the long run now that they were both properly motivated.