X-Men the Movie belongs to 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics. This is just a story of my own, a fantasy. I'm claiming no copyrights. Please don't read if you aren't over 18. Please ask me before sending this to anyone or archiving the story.
I really appreciate your continued feedback, guys...you are very, very profound. Amazing. I've tried to work in some of your ideas, and I will continue to if you keep writing in and commenting. If you have criticisms or compliments, I'd love to hear them. I know it may seem like the story's winding down, but it's really only beginning, as long as you are interested in seeing the rest.
--
Another night, another visit to the kitchen. Logan slid his jeans on, entered the kitchen in wide strides, and saw Scott. Holding a beer. Deja fucking vu.
Only difference was that Scott was less closed-off. He even smiled...almost.
Logan smiled back, scratching the back of his neck. He felt so comfortable with Scott now, even though he expected nothing but nerves. Fuck, all this deep thinking made him thirsty. He wanted that beer. Hooking a few fingers in his belt loops, he took a few steps forward, then bowed with a deep flourish.
"Thanks for gettin' me a beer, one-eye."
Scott laughed. Sincere and rich. Almost like the way he used to sound with Jean. Scott and Logan both paused for a moment, as if fighting back against the memory, then continued their game.
"Let me guess. A choir-boy like me has no business drinking alcohol. Am I correct?"
Logan shrugged. His attempt at a noncommital response only made his opponent smirk all the more. Scott made his way to Logan's side, waving the fragrant brew underneath his enhanced nostrils.
"Tell you what. I'm a nice guy. I'll let you have this..."
Just as Logan was about to grab the bottle, Scott yanked his hand away.
"Under one condition."
The heat between the glistening, bare-chested men was overpowering. Neither wanted to stand down. Logan tried not to focus on Scott's hairless, bulging pectorals and smooth nipples. Scott patted Logan's chest, brushing the soft fur like one would with an ornery, growling dog.
"What?" Logan rasped, wanting, longing to sink his teeth into Scott's long neck, feel that pliant body in his strong arms.
Their mouths moved close together, lips seconds away from contact.
"If I give you this beer, you have to lick my feet."
Logan raised his eyebrows. He knew Scott was staring him down, waiting for him to show weakness or doubt. This boy had some balls. Pretty tasty balls too, if memory served.
"Done. Gimme the goddamn beer."
Now Scott was in the hot seat. While he felt his dominance of the situation slowly slip away, Logan's beefy arm slipped behind his waist. His sweet cheeks were squeezed, roughly, and it was all he could do not to moan out loud.
"C'mon then."
Wriggling out of the firm grasp, Scott returned to his bedroom, with Logan behind him. Scott knew those sexy eyes were trained on his ass, and maybe he should have been disgusted, or guilt-ridden, but he wasn't. Not this time.
Logan glanced around the dimly lit, sparsely furnished room. He could still smell her scent in a few faint places. Mostly Scott's scent, strong yet subtle, very powerful. Her clothes were all gone now, packed away with everything else she owned. Logan could see why Scott couldn't sleep in this room the first few weeks. A surge of pain jabbed at his heart. Logan wanted so much to protect Scott from the demons, from himself...maybe even from Logan. But right now his main interest was in keeping the mood lighthearted. He shoved Scott on the bed, spreading the boy's legs wide. Scott was only wearing boxer briefs tonight, and his slender cock throbbed against the grey material, revealing a half-hard hose.
Scott barely had time to prop the beer up on the nightstand when Logan sucked his entire left foot in. Removing the digits, he ran his long, practiced tongue up the smooth heel and arch, licking away the perspiration. Scott had beautiful feet, perfect toes, trimmed nails, and obviously wasn't a stranger to pedicures. He slipped both big toes into his hot mouth, tracing the outline of the nail against his tongue, the sharp tip thrusting lightly against the roof of his mouth. Scott whimpered and laid his head against the pillow, writhing at the forbidden sensations. As Logan began nibbling his succulent toes, one by one, Scott groaned loud enough for half the house to hear, his fully hard 8 inches beginning to tear a hole in his shorts.
"Gimme my beer, NOW." Logan grunted.
Scott tossed him the bottle, forgetting it was open. Half the contents spilled on Logan's chest, matting his thick, dark curls. He growled. Scott was too busy laughing to apologize, if he'd even wanted to apologize. He may have reconsidered when the nubile form leapt on top of him, blocking him from making any move. Their arms intertwined, their chests, coarse and angel-soft, engaged in a primal struggle.
Almost too quickly to see with the trained eye, Logan pulled down his jeans. With the metallic whoosh of a single claw, he approached Scott's underwear.
"Be very still...wouldn't want to hurt such a nice piece of dick."
Scott threw his head back against the headboard, his entire body lightly convulsing from the painstakingly slow feel of his shorts being shorn open, an inch at a time. As he finished his work, Logan drowned Scott's gaping mouth and shiny, slick chest in the lukewarm beer. Grinding their nude bodies together, covered in various juices, they licked and sucked each other's pecs, tits, faces, mouths, hands, grinding with a frenzy unmatched in their previous encounters. Logan slammed his mouth deep over Scott's cutting off their curses and pleas for harder, faster. Logan's fat 7 inches jammed deep into Scott's taut left thigh, pounding deep into that beautiful slab. Scott's thinner but no less powerful tube slapped against their dual stomachs, staining them, writing his name on both of their forms.
With a silent cry, the two beasts gasped out their orgasms. Violent, eternal, yet over much too soon. Their names were written all over the other's body, branding their athletic, flawless forms in semen and sweat. They kissed, tentatively, unsure of how far to go. Scott had never been this close to Logan before, in body or spirit. He should have felt guilt, intense self-loathing. Why didn't he? Why did he feel at peace? He had to know. At least the answer to one question.
"Logan...when you dream about her, does it still hurt? Do you still wake up and feel terrible? Or do you feel better now, like she knows we don't need her anymore? Like we're...alright on our own?"
Logan curled up on Scott's side, a sure hand possessively clutching his slender hip.
"Go t'sleep," he purred, licking his lover's neck with catlike strokes.
Scott had his answer. He settled into the man behind him, and to his surprise, drifted off to sleep.
--
Please e-mail me at HotStoryLvr@hotmail.com