Fic: Scott/Logan, "Take One for the Team" , Rated NC17
Title: Take one for the Team
Author: Sionnain
Rating: NC17
Fandom: XMMF,(movie) post X2
Pairing: Scott/Logan
Warnings: Slash
Summary: Scott's had it with Logan, and decides it's time for a confrontation. Logan agrees.
AN: Thanks very much to Lady_Draherm for the beta! I'm pretty sure I owe Geography!Storm to Penknife.
Scott wished Logan would just leave already.
He knew it wasn’t a very nice thing to think, and if he voiced it aloud someone would undoubtedly tell him that. Probably the Professor. Except that people tended to give him a lot of space after Alkali, even Xavier, so maybe they wouldn’t.
Scott remembered Rogue after what had happened with Magneto on the Statue. People had been wary of her, too. Sometimes she’d laugh at something inappropriate, or smile with just the faintest edge of malice, and everyone would remember she wasn’t entirely herself. Alien, different.
It was like that for him now. Everyone looked at him and remembered Jean, and no one knew what to say so they avoided him. Apparently, grief made people every bit as freaked as having someone’s arch-nemesis take up residence in one’s brain.
That said something about people. Scott wasn’t sure what it was, but it probably wasn’t good.
Logan had been a bit more subdued immediately after Alkali, but that hadn’t lasted. If anything, the man was equally as determined to annoy Scott as everyone else was to avoid him. It was infuriating. Scott hated it, hated seeing Logan at the table every day instead of Jean.
If someone had to die, why couldn’t it have been-
Except he never let himself finish that thought, because he didn’t really mean it. Logan had his faults-Scott could go over them in detail if anyone was interested-but that didn’t mean Scott wished the man dead.
Just…gone. Out of their lives. Logan had left right after he’d made sure Rogue was okay after Liberty Island, so Scott had assumed he’d do the same when they returned after seeing the President.
He hadn’t, though. He was still there, and Scott was beginning to think he was never, ever going to leave.
It was a depressing thought.
* * *
“You need somethin’?”
Scott looked up from the tests he was grading, forcing himself not to glare as Logan sauntered into his office. He sat on the chair across from Scott’s desk, propping his booted feet up right on top of the nice desk calendar on which Scott had just finished adding upcoming appointments.
They had some visits arranged in addition to a few minor repairs to be dealt with and additional staff to hire. The school did not stop running just because Scott was grieving. Besides, working made him feel useful and took his mind off of things.
It was the additional staff problem that led to Logan being in his office. Scott wasn’t at all pleased with what he was about to say, but he’d argued with the Professor about it to no avail.
We need more staff, Scott. The students trust Logan.
They also think South Park is the epitome of humor. The students aren’t always right.
“Yeah. I need to know if you’re sticking around or not.” Scott was blunt because he didn’t think the subtle approach worked with Wolverine. One needed to be intelligent for that sort of thing to be effective.
Scott was suddenly, viciously glad Wolverine wasn’t a telepath.
“Don’t know. Got a reason I should?” Wolverine grinned at him, a quick flash of teeth. Scott tried for the thousandth time to see what Jean had found attractive about Logan. As usual, he came back with nothing.
She chose you.
He forced himself not to think about that. The more he dwelt upon those words, the more he wanted to use his optic blasts to force that grin off of Wolverine’s face. Except that there was something brittle about Logan’s smirk, not quite right, as if he was doing it just because he knew Scott expected it.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Summers, but didn’t you want to see me? Is it only so you could stare off into space?” Wolverine narrowed his eyes at him. “I got stuff to do, you know.”
Like what, try and break up someone else’s relationship since my girlfriend is dead? Scott shook his head slightly, slamming the proverbial lid on his rising anger. This would solve nothing. “We need more staff,” he bit out, as if this were somehow Wolverine’s fault.
“You ain’t askin’ me to teach, are you?” Logan’s voice was clearly incredulous.
“No, I’m not asking you at all.” Scott smiled tightly. “If you’re going to stay here, Logan, you have to do something useful. Prowling around the mansion isn’t useful. You stay, you earn your keep.”
“Uh-huh. What do you think I can teach the rugrats, exactly, Cyke?
The nickname grated on his nerves, as Logan no doubt knew it would. “Don’t know. You good at anything?”
Logan removed his boots from the desk and leaned forward, the gesture clearly threatening. He reminded Scott of an animal with his hackles raised. “Some things, yeah. Want me to show you?”
“Logan, cut the alpha male bullshit,” Scott snapped, standing up. He leaned forward, hands braced on the desk. “You leaving soon? If so, I won’t bother.”
“Won’t bother with what?” Logan’s voice was almost a growl-his entire posture was tense, unfriendly.
Scott almost couldn’t blame him. It was the longest they’d been in a room with each other without anyone else since Alkali. The tension was thick, heavy. “Won’t bother with any of this. The schedules. Finding out what you could teach. Salary.”
“You think I want to stick around here, Summers, when it’s so obvious I’m not wanted?”
“What are you, ten?” Scott shook his head, incredulous. “That’s juvenile, Logan. Just answer my goddamned question.”
Logan grinned, obviously ascertaining he’d gotten to the other man since Scott rarely cursed. “Don’t know. What’d you want me to teach?”
We unfortunately don’t need lessons in how to be an unmitigated asshole. “Self-defense?” It was the first thing he thought of.
Logan narrowed his eyes at him, but it wasn’t from anger this time. It was thoughtful. He cocked his head, the gesture animal-like. Scott wondered how much of Wolverine’s personality was because of that animalism, how much it defined his actions, who he was.
What the hell was he doing thinking about that?
“Guess you’re too much a sissy to teach it?”
Scott should have expected that. “I run the sessions in the Danger Room, Logan. Which you would know if you ever showed up to any.”
“Don’t see why I should go. Not like anything can hurt me.”
“Or are you afraid you’ll hurt one of the students?” The words were out before he could stop them, so Scott pushed onwards. They were still facing each other across the desk. “Like what happened with Rogue?”
“Shut up,” Logan growled, and it was a real growl, not just an angry tone of voice. Scott could hear the faint trickle beneath Logan’s words, and it raised the hair on the back of Scott’s neck.
“Rogue could use some additional training, you know,” Scott continued, though this was probably not a very nice thing to do and why was he trying to convince Logan to stay anyway? “I mean, she’s the weakest of them at fighting, since she has no long-range power.”
Logan reached forward and twisted Scott’s shirt in his hands. “You want someone to teach them how to fight, how to protect themselves, Summers? Fine. But I don’t want to hear complaints if you don’t like the way I teach.”
“Get your hands off me,” Scott snapped, hand going up to the side of glasses instinctively. “And you’ll have to have your curriculum approved just like every other staff member here.”
Logan didn’t obey Scott’s command, merely hauled him closer, glaring fiercely. Scott could feel Logan’s breath hot on his face.
“Let’s not do this, Wolverine,” he said slowly, fingers tightening on the frame of his glasses. Don’t think I won’t do it.
Snarling, Logan pushed him away. “Fine. I’ll teach your class, I’ll even give you a lesson plan, pretty boy, if that’s what you want.” He was backing up, breathing fast, a strange look on his face.
“You can’t give me what I want,” Scott said suddenly, before he thought better of it.
“You so sure about that?” Wolverine asked, and then looked surprised, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d just said that. He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him with far more force than was necessary.
Scott returned to his seat, glaring at the door. He had a wild urge to blast holes in it, just because he could.
* * *
“Tell me this again, Drake.”
Bobby Drake, looking supremely uncomfortable, shifted nervously in his chair as he looked everywhere but at Scott. “Um, it’s just…I think maybe someone needs to tell Logan to cool it. We don’t all have healing factors.”
“Did Logan hurt you?” This wasn’t the first time a student had been in his office complaining about Wolverine’s rather vicious methods of self-defense. In fact, everyone but Rogue and Colossus had been in to tell him that they simply could no longer take Logan’s rather brutal “self-defense” class. No one dropped out, though. They just came to Scott and complained.
Even Storm had been to see him. “My students are miserable during Geography,” she’d muttered, crossing her arms across her chest. “They always need to be excused to get aspirin. Or an ice pack. Or crutches.” Outside, Scott heard the distant rumble of thunder though it had been a perfectly clear day before she’d shown up in his office.
Bobby looked pretty miserable, sporting a bruise on one cheek and an Ace bandage on his arm. “Not on purpose. But he showed Rogue how to do this-move, I guess-and he used me to demonstrate.”
Scott shook his head. “I suppose you want to be excused from your next class?”
Bobby nodded, looking a bit embarrassed. “It’s just when he did that thing to my neck, it gave me a really bad headache, Mr. Summers.”
Sighing, Scott handed him a note to give to Storm. He had visions of her pelting his car with hail for this. “Rest up. I’ll talk to Logan.”
Bobby took the paper, then walked out of Scott’s office looking defeated and cradling his head in his bandaged arm.
Scott went to find Logan in the room they used for the self-defense class. Logan was stretching and hardly looked winded at all, thought that didn’t really surprise Scott. How hard can beating up on kids be, when you have a metal skeleton and a healing factor?
“What do you want, Cyclops? Need a little extra training?” Wolverine didn’t even stop to look at him. Scott wondered how he could teach the class in jeans, but he wasn’t about to ask Logan that.
“You need to cool it with injuring the students, Logan.” Scott glared at him to no avail. “I’m sick of them showing up battered and bruised in my office.”
“Goin’ complaining to you, are they? All of ‘em?” Logan turned around, smirking.
“With a few exceptions, yes,” Scott said, annoyed.
“Rogue ain’t one, is she? Coming to you and bitching, I mean.”
Scott gritted his teeth. “Not that it matters, but no.”
Logan grinned, pride evident in his voice as he spoke. “Good girl.”
“Your unnecessary proprietary attitude towards Rogue aside,” Scott began heatedly, and Wolverine laughed. It sounded like an animal braying.
“What? So I’m beating up the students and now you think I’m sleeping with one? You’re full of accusations today, Cyclops. Got some more? Want to accuse me of crippling the Professor, freeing Magneto, killing-“
Scott didn’t wait for Logan to finish. His fingers touched the dial on his visor and he sent Logan sprawling backwards, hitting against the wall. He neatly avoided slamming Logan back against the mirrors. Not because he was afraid the shattered glass would hurt Wolverine, but because then he’d have to pay to have them replaced. He’d had enough of broken glass to last awhile.
Logan leapt to his feet, snarling, his claws extending as he stalked towards Scott. The two men circled each other, the room thick with tension. “You wanna tell me what’s got your panties in a twist, one-eye?”
“Yeah. You using unnecessary force on the students would be a good place to start.” Adrenaline was pulsing through him, and while he hated the necessity of this conversation with Wolverine, there was something almost enjoyable about losing a little bit of control.
Or maybe it was that he’d really, really wanted to blast Wolverine. Either way.
“Unnecessary force…Cyclops, you asked me to teach them how to fight. You think an attacker is gonna apologize for bein’ too rough?” Logan continued to circle him.
“You can teach them to disarm without mimicking an actual attack, Logan,” Scott informed him, watching Wolverine’s claws. “We do it all the time in the Danger Room. Unless you think we should have real bullets in there?”
“Maybe we should,” Logan said with a shrug. “Might teach the kids a thing or two.”
“Right before or after it kills them?” Scott asked, incredulous. “We don’t all have healing factors, you know,” he said stiffly, echoing Bobby’s earlier words.
“So, what? You want me to take it easy on ‘em? Don’t see Rogue complaining, do you?”
“Don’t see the same amount of bruises on her, do you?” Scott shot back, shaking his head. “Because you can’t touch her long enough to leave any. Same with Colossus-really hard to break ribs through metal. Come on, Logan. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Day before, was it?” Logan smirked. “So you’re telling me your fancy training of fake bullets and simulated lasers is better than the real thing?”
“No. I’m telling you if one more student shows up with bruises or cracked ribs in my office, I’m going to return the favor, healing factor be damned. We don’t have a doctor around here anymore.” Grief, sharp and hot, kicked him hard in the stomach. He turned away, unable to look at Logan, even though Scott was pretty sure his face was impassive.
The advantage to having his eyes shielded was that it was easy to do that when he wanted to, make it look like he didn’t care.
“I ain’t trying to teach these kids how to be X-Men, Summers. That’s your job. I’m just trying to teach them how to survive.” Logan surprised him by moving too close, invading Scott’s personal space. “World has a lot worse things than pretend lasers and fake explosions waiting for them when they get out of this place.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Scott snapped, fists clenched. They stared each other down, ready to strike, the type of posture favored by rowdy men in bar fights. Except this wasn’t a bar, and the two of them were far more dangerous than ordinary men throwing punches over a lady in a short skirt.
“There’re a lot of things you don’t notice.” Wolverine said in a low voice, pressing forward. Scott didn’t want to back up, but he didn’t want to be impaled on Wolverine’s claws, either.
“Yeah? Care to enlighten me?” Scott taunted, unable to believe he was having such a juvenile conversation, but there was just something about Logan that always infuriated him past all sense.
“Sure,” Wolverine said agreeably, and then grabbed Scott by the hair. His fingers pulled hard and he jerked Scott’s body against him. Before Scott could even think beyond the shock at what Logan had just done, Logan kissed him.
His mouth was hot, the rough stubble of his cheeks painful on Scott’s clean-shaven face. Scott struggled against him-at least, he thought it was struggling-which weirdly did not include pulling his mouth away.
In fact, it appeared to include more of grasping at Wolverine’s shoulders while he kissed him back than the actual trying-to-get-away kind of struggling. Wolverine backed him up against the wall, mouth hot, tongue pushing ruthlessly into Scott’s mouth.
Scott pushed back, shoving against Wolverine, which was sort of ridiculous because the man had to weigh 300 pounds with that adamantium skeleton. So he wasn’t really doing anything but shoving his body against Wolverine’s, rhythmically, and it actually felt…
Good.
“What the hell-” Scott finally tore his mouth away, breathing harshly, pressing the back of his slightly-shaking hand to his mouth. He had to stop this, now, because-
Wolverine still had him pressed to the wall, and Scott could tell he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t exactly…unmoved…by what had just happened. That shocked him into momentary silence.
“This is what you call a dominance fight, Summers,” Logan said in a low voice, and then roughly bit him on the neck.
“Why the fuck are we doing this?” Scott snarled, struggling again, but hands were wrapped vise-tight in Wolverine’s messy dark hair.
“Cause we’ve needed to do it for months.” Wolverine pulled back-his eyes were narrowed, his face flushed. He kissed him again, mouth hot, and Scott felt Wolverine’s claws ripping at his shirt. The metal briefly slid across his skin, and why in the hell did that feel…
Oh, Christ.
Something about this was so surreal that Scott couldn’t do anything as Logan pushed him down to the ground, straddling him. Logan weighed a lot but managed to keep most of his weight off of Scott so that he didn’t crush Scott’s pelvis. That was something, at least.
It took Scott a moment to come back and realize what was happening. He was pinned beneath Wolverine on the floor of the self-defense classroom, and the other man was biting his chest. It was also very difficult to mistake the fact that Scott had a rock hard erection, and unless he was wrong, so did Logan.
Logan’s mouth moved up to his neck again. “Did I win? That easy? Thought you had more fight in you, Summers. Disappointing.”
Scott snapped back to reality at that. He’d be damned if he’d lose, even if he didn’t’ have a clear idea as to why this was going on or how it had started. “Hardly,” Scott growled back, though his lacked the pure animalism of Logan’s. He did his best. Scott always did his best, no matter the task.
He struggled as much as he was able, shoving and biting, and Logan must have given in because the two of them were rolling around the floor. Logan’s shirt ended up flung somewhere near the door. Scott ended up on top of Logan, his mouth moving over Wolverine’s stomach. There was something very satisfying about biting him, sinking teeth into flesh stretched over corded muscle.
“Not bad. Not that great, but not bad,” Logan taunted him, staring up at him challengingly. He had his hands behind his head, like he was lying out by the pool in the summer.
“Shut up, Logan,” Scott muttered, and moved quickly-he wasn’t as bulky as Logan, but no adamantium and years of training made him very limber-to straddle the other man again. Logan didn’t move, but Scott could feel the tenseness in Logan’s body that meant if he wanted to, he could.
How did one end a dominance fight, anyway? Scott had no idea and he couldn’t very well ask.
Somehow the answer seemed to be to unbutton Logan’s jeans and shove his hand inside. Logan’s cock was thick and hard and pressed against his stomach beneath the cotton boxers he was wearing. As Scott wrapped his fingers around him, Logan let out a sound that was halfway between a growl and a moan.
Suddenly, Scott wanted to hear that sound again. Maybe he had figured out how to win a dominance fight, after all. He tightened his hand and moved it up and down, feeling a vicious satisfaction in the way Wolverine thrashed beneath him.
It felt good, better than anything had in months. Scott stopped thinking when Logan shifted and pressed his leg against Scott’s erection, pressing rhythmically while Scott jerked his hand faster. He’d be damned if he came first.
They were kissing again before Scott realized it, though it was more a mashing of mouths together and a battle of teeth and tongues than actual kissing. Wolverine was warm beneath him, so hot his body felt like a brand between Scott’s thighs. His body was hairy, hard-nothing that Scott was used to, but it was good, too.
“I could buck you off me if I wanted,” Logan gasped, and Scott knew he was close, could tell as Logan’s cock swelled in his hand as he continued to stroke.
“But you don’t want to,” Scott said smugly, and he smiled, and it might have been the most sincere smile he’d had on his face since life went to hell a few months back.
“Maybe not,” Logan gasped, and his back arched up off the floor, his hips bucking as he shoved himself harder into Scott’s hand. “But you don’t want me to, either.”
“Then who wins?” Scott asked, his breath coming hard and fast, and the world narrowed to Logan underneath him, his cock pulsing in Scott’s hand, and the friction against his cock as Logan’s leg continued to push, push, push…
Logan couldn’t answer, because he came hard all over Scott’s hand, warm and sticky, and it made Logan’s back arch again. This time Logan bared his throat as he made another braying sort of sound, and Scott gave a low laugh and leaned forward to bite Logan’s neck. “Guess I did.”
“Don’t-be-so-sure,” Logan panted, and bucked up, dislodging him. Scott was on his back with Logan’s palm pressed hard against his erection through his nice pair of khaki pants before he could say anything. Logan rubbed, hard, eyes glittering as he pressed Scott down into the floor. His claws were out and close to his face, and Scott must be psychotic because he sort of liked that.
Not that he’d admit that, ever. Ever.
“Want me to stop, Summers?” Logan purred-purred!-at him, and Scott could smell Logan’s scent and the smell of sex and it was all too much. He hadn’t had anyone but himself touch him in so long, and even that made him feel as if he was somehow dishonoring her--
He didn’t want to think about that just then. He didn’t want to think about pain, or grief, or responsibility, or anything at all. “No,” he moaned, and gave in, and Logan rewarded him by licking his stomach and sliding his hand inside Scott’s pants and fisting his cock.
Logan moved his hand once, twice, then growled, “Come for me,” and that was enough to push Scott over the edge. He cried out, his hands scratching down Logan’s bare chest as he came hard, and it was so wonderful to forget everything in a haze of pleasure, to let go.
Logan leaned back on his haunches when it was over and watched Scott with an unreadable expression. They both stood up; clothes a mess, hair tousled, both of them marked by teeth and sticky with come.
I really should be worried about this, Scott thought lazily as he stretched, feeling completely unconcerned about everything. He wondered how long this weird sense of euphoric apathy would last before the panic set in.
“Well, then,” Logan said, and Scott could hear the same thread of lazy satisfaction underneath his words. “Guess that settles that.”
Scott held a hand up. He didn’t want to argue, not again. “Logan, I don’t know if that fixed anything-” here, Logan snorted-“or if it solved any sort of problems between us.”
“You feel better?” Wolverine cocked his head at him with consideration. “Don’t lie. Do you?”
Scott’s shirt was torn, so he gave up trying to put it on and just crossed his arms over his chest. His scowl lacked any real heat. “Yeah,” he said gruffly, because lying would just be stupid right about now. “Guess so.”
Wolverine shrugged. “Then what’s it matter? Maybe we’ll get along now.”
“Permanently?” Scott was doubtful. “I mean, just because you’re not annoying me now-”
“Look, Summers. We may never answer the alpha male question, but right now, I like you more than I usually do. And I assume the feeling’s mutual, yeah?” Logan stalked over to him, and Scott found he didn’t really mind Logan was invading his personal space.
“Yeah. I do.” He raked his hand through his hair and smiled ruefully. “So this is what we have to do to get along?”
“Not every day,” Logan said, but he was pressing very close to him again. The gesture wasn’t sexual, though. In fact, it was almost like…
No. Scott refused to consider this was how Wolverine cuddled after sex. No.
“You know. Just whenever we get to the point where we can’t stand each other again.”
“So I’ll see you in here after dinner?” Scott joked, but he didn’t mean it.
“Shut up, Cyclops,” Logan said, but it was almost affectionate. He leaned down and sniffed him, nose pressed against Scott’s neck. “You smell like me. I like that.”
Scott had no idea what to say to that, and he was glad that Logan left without another word so that he didn’t have to think of anything. He made his way cautiously up to the staff wing, grateful no one saw him in the hallway, and immediately turned on the shower when he got back to his room.
He wondered which one of them won. Then he wondered if he really cared. Wolverine was right-they’d have to do it again sometime, to keep from killing each other.
Ah, well. Responsibility was his forte, after all. The most important thing was the team, and if that helped him and Logan to get along…that could only be beneficial, right?
That probably didn’t explain why he was humming in the shower, but Scott was really too exhausted to care. He’d worry about it later.
Author: Sionnain
Rating: NC17
Fandom: XMMF,(movie) post X2
Pairing: Scott/Logan
Warnings: Slash
Summary: Scott's had it with Logan, and decides it's time for a confrontation. Logan agrees.
AN: Thanks very much to Lady_Draherm for the beta! I'm pretty sure I owe Geography!Storm to Penknife.
Scott wished Logan would just leave already.
He knew it wasn’t a very nice thing to think, and if he voiced it aloud someone would undoubtedly tell him that. Probably the Professor. Except that people tended to give him a lot of space after Alkali, even Xavier, so maybe they wouldn’t.
Scott remembered Rogue after what had happened with Magneto on the Statue. People had been wary of her, too. Sometimes she’d laugh at something inappropriate, or smile with just the faintest edge of malice, and everyone would remember she wasn’t entirely herself. Alien, different.
It was like that for him now. Everyone looked at him and remembered Jean, and no one knew what to say so they avoided him. Apparently, grief made people every bit as freaked as having someone’s arch-nemesis take up residence in one’s brain.
That said something about people. Scott wasn’t sure what it was, but it probably wasn’t good.
Logan had been a bit more subdued immediately after Alkali, but that hadn’t lasted. If anything, the man was equally as determined to annoy Scott as everyone else was to avoid him. It was infuriating. Scott hated it, hated seeing Logan at the table every day instead of Jean.
If someone had to die, why couldn’t it have been-
Except he never let himself finish that thought, because he didn’t really mean it. Logan had his faults-Scott could go over them in detail if anyone was interested-but that didn’t mean Scott wished the man dead.
Just…gone. Out of their lives. Logan had left right after he’d made sure Rogue was okay after Liberty Island, so Scott had assumed he’d do the same when they returned after seeing the President.
He hadn’t, though. He was still there, and Scott was beginning to think he was never, ever going to leave.
It was a depressing thought.
* * *
“You need somethin’?”
Scott looked up from the tests he was grading, forcing himself not to glare as Logan sauntered into his office. He sat on the chair across from Scott’s desk, propping his booted feet up right on top of the nice desk calendar on which Scott had just finished adding upcoming appointments.
They had some visits arranged in addition to a few minor repairs to be dealt with and additional staff to hire. The school did not stop running just because Scott was grieving. Besides, working made him feel useful and took his mind off of things.
It was the additional staff problem that led to Logan being in his office. Scott wasn’t at all pleased with what he was about to say, but he’d argued with the Professor about it to no avail.
We need more staff, Scott. The students trust Logan.
They also think South Park is the epitome of humor. The students aren’t always right.
“Yeah. I need to know if you’re sticking around or not.” Scott was blunt because he didn’t think the subtle approach worked with Wolverine. One needed to be intelligent for that sort of thing to be effective.
Scott was suddenly, viciously glad Wolverine wasn’t a telepath.
“Don’t know. Got a reason I should?” Wolverine grinned at him, a quick flash of teeth. Scott tried for the thousandth time to see what Jean had found attractive about Logan. As usual, he came back with nothing.
She chose you.
He forced himself not to think about that. The more he dwelt upon those words, the more he wanted to use his optic blasts to force that grin off of Wolverine’s face. Except that there was something brittle about Logan’s smirk, not quite right, as if he was doing it just because he knew Scott expected it.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Summers, but didn’t you want to see me? Is it only so you could stare off into space?” Wolverine narrowed his eyes at him. “I got stuff to do, you know.”
Like what, try and break up someone else’s relationship since my girlfriend is dead? Scott shook his head slightly, slamming the proverbial lid on his rising anger. This would solve nothing. “We need more staff,” he bit out, as if this were somehow Wolverine’s fault.
“You ain’t askin’ me to teach, are you?” Logan’s voice was clearly incredulous.
“No, I’m not asking you at all.” Scott smiled tightly. “If you’re going to stay here, Logan, you have to do something useful. Prowling around the mansion isn’t useful. You stay, you earn your keep.”
“Uh-huh. What do you think I can teach the rugrats, exactly, Cyke?
The nickname grated on his nerves, as Logan no doubt knew it would. “Don’t know. You good at anything?”
Logan removed his boots from the desk and leaned forward, the gesture clearly threatening. He reminded Scott of an animal with his hackles raised. “Some things, yeah. Want me to show you?”
“Logan, cut the alpha male bullshit,” Scott snapped, standing up. He leaned forward, hands braced on the desk. “You leaving soon? If so, I won’t bother.”
“Won’t bother with what?” Logan’s voice was almost a growl-his entire posture was tense, unfriendly.
Scott almost couldn’t blame him. It was the longest they’d been in a room with each other without anyone else since Alkali. The tension was thick, heavy. “Won’t bother with any of this. The schedules. Finding out what you could teach. Salary.”
“You think I want to stick around here, Summers, when it’s so obvious I’m not wanted?”
“What are you, ten?” Scott shook his head, incredulous. “That’s juvenile, Logan. Just answer my goddamned question.”
Logan grinned, obviously ascertaining he’d gotten to the other man since Scott rarely cursed. “Don’t know. What’d you want me to teach?”
We unfortunately don’t need lessons in how to be an unmitigated asshole. “Self-defense?” It was the first thing he thought of.
Logan narrowed his eyes at him, but it wasn’t from anger this time. It was thoughtful. He cocked his head, the gesture animal-like. Scott wondered how much of Wolverine’s personality was because of that animalism, how much it defined his actions, who he was.
What the hell was he doing thinking about that?
“Guess you’re too much a sissy to teach it?”
Scott should have expected that. “I run the sessions in the Danger Room, Logan. Which you would know if you ever showed up to any.”
“Don’t see why I should go. Not like anything can hurt me.”
“Or are you afraid you’ll hurt one of the students?” The words were out before he could stop them, so Scott pushed onwards. They were still facing each other across the desk. “Like what happened with Rogue?”
“Shut up,” Logan growled, and it was a real growl, not just an angry tone of voice. Scott could hear the faint trickle beneath Logan’s words, and it raised the hair on the back of Scott’s neck.
“Rogue could use some additional training, you know,” Scott continued, though this was probably not a very nice thing to do and why was he trying to convince Logan to stay anyway? “I mean, she’s the weakest of them at fighting, since she has no long-range power.”
Logan reached forward and twisted Scott’s shirt in his hands. “You want someone to teach them how to fight, how to protect themselves, Summers? Fine. But I don’t want to hear complaints if you don’t like the way I teach.”
“Get your hands off me,” Scott snapped, hand going up to the side of glasses instinctively. “And you’ll have to have your curriculum approved just like every other staff member here.”
Logan didn’t obey Scott’s command, merely hauled him closer, glaring fiercely. Scott could feel Logan’s breath hot on his face.
“Let’s not do this, Wolverine,” he said slowly, fingers tightening on the frame of his glasses. Don’t think I won’t do it.
Snarling, Logan pushed him away. “Fine. I’ll teach your class, I’ll even give you a lesson plan, pretty boy, if that’s what you want.” He was backing up, breathing fast, a strange look on his face.
“You can’t give me what I want,” Scott said suddenly, before he thought better of it.
“You so sure about that?” Wolverine asked, and then looked surprised, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d just said that. He turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him with far more force than was necessary.
Scott returned to his seat, glaring at the door. He had a wild urge to blast holes in it, just because he could.
* * *
“Tell me this again, Drake.”
Bobby Drake, looking supremely uncomfortable, shifted nervously in his chair as he looked everywhere but at Scott. “Um, it’s just…I think maybe someone needs to tell Logan to cool it. We don’t all have healing factors.”
“Did Logan hurt you?” This wasn’t the first time a student had been in his office complaining about Wolverine’s rather vicious methods of self-defense. In fact, everyone but Rogue and Colossus had been in to tell him that they simply could no longer take Logan’s rather brutal “self-defense” class. No one dropped out, though. They just came to Scott and complained.
Even Storm had been to see him. “My students are miserable during Geography,” she’d muttered, crossing her arms across her chest. “They always need to be excused to get aspirin. Or an ice pack. Or crutches.” Outside, Scott heard the distant rumble of thunder though it had been a perfectly clear day before she’d shown up in his office.
Bobby looked pretty miserable, sporting a bruise on one cheek and an Ace bandage on his arm. “Not on purpose. But he showed Rogue how to do this-move, I guess-and he used me to demonstrate.”
Scott shook his head. “I suppose you want to be excused from your next class?”
Bobby nodded, looking a bit embarrassed. “It’s just when he did that thing to my neck, it gave me a really bad headache, Mr. Summers.”
Sighing, Scott handed him a note to give to Storm. He had visions of her pelting his car with hail for this. “Rest up. I’ll talk to Logan.”
Bobby took the paper, then walked out of Scott’s office looking defeated and cradling his head in his bandaged arm.
Scott went to find Logan in the room they used for the self-defense class. Logan was stretching and hardly looked winded at all, thought that didn’t really surprise Scott. How hard can beating up on kids be, when you have a metal skeleton and a healing factor?
“What do you want, Cyclops? Need a little extra training?” Wolverine didn’t even stop to look at him. Scott wondered how he could teach the class in jeans, but he wasn’t about to ask Logan that.
“You need to cool it with injuring the students, Logan.” Scott glared at him to no avail. “I’m sick of them showing up battered and bruised in my office.”
“Goin’ complaining to you, are they? All of ‘em?” Logan turned around, smirking.
“With a few exceptions, yes,” Scott said, annoyed.
“Rogue ain’t one, is she? Coming to you and bitching, I mean.”
Scott gritted his teeth. “Not that it matters, but no.”
Logan grinned, pride evident in his voice as he spoke. “Good girl.”
“Your unnecessary proprietary attitude towards Rogue aside,” Scott began heatedly, and Wolverine laughed. It sounded like an animal braying.
“What? So I’m beating up the students and now you think I’m sleeping with one? You’re full of accusations today, Cyclops. Got some more? Want to accuse me of crippling the Professor, freeing Magneto, killing-“
Scott didn’t wait for Logan to finish. His fingers touched the dial on his visor and he sent Logan sprawling backwards, hitting against the wall. He neatly avoided slamming Logan back against the mirrors. Not because he was afraid the shattered glass would hurt Wolverine, but because then he’d have to pay to have them replaced. He’d had enough of broken glass to last awhile.
Logan leapt to his feet, snarling, his claws extending as he stalked towards Scott. The two men circled each other, the room thick with tension. “You wanna tell me what’s got your panties in a twist, one-eye?”
“Yeah. You using unnecessary force on the students would be a good place to start.” Adrenaline was pulsing through him, and while he hated the necessity of this conversation with Wolverine, there was something almost enjoyable about losing a little bit of control.
Or maybe it was that he’d really, really wanted to blast Wolverine. Either way.
“Unnecessary force…Cyclops, you asked me to teach them how to fight. You think an attacker is gonna apologize for bein’ too rough?” Logan continued to circle him.
“You can teach them to disarm without mimicking an actual attack, Logan,” Scott informed him, watching Wolverine’s claws. “We do it all the time in the Danger Room. Unless you think we should have real bullets in there?”
“Maybe we should,” Logan said with a shrug. “Might teach the kids a thing or two.”
“Right before or after it kills them?” Scott asked, incredulous. “We don’t all have healing factors, you know,” he said stiffly, echoing Bobby’s earlier words.
“So, what? You want me to take it easy on ‘em? Don’t see Rogue complaining, do you?”
“Don’t see the same amount of bruises on her, do you?” Scott shot back, shaking his head. “Because you can’t touch her long enough to leave any. Same with Colossus-really hard to break ribs through metal. Come on, Logan. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Day before, was it?” Logan smirked. “So you’re telling me your fancy training of fake bullets and simulated lasers is better than the real thing?”
“No. I’m telling you if one more student shows up with bruises or cracked ribs in my office, I’m going to return the favor, healing factor be damned. We don’t have a doctor around here anymore.” Grief, sharp and hot, kicked him hard in the stomach. He turned away, unable to look at Logan, even though Scott was pretty sure his face was impassive.
The advantage to having his eyes shielded was that it was easy to do that when he wanted to, make it look like he didn’t care.
“I ain’t trying to teach these kids how to be X-Men, Summers. That’s your job. I’m just trying to teach them how to survive.” Logan surprised him by moving too close, invading Scott’s personal space. “World has a lot worse things than pretend lasers and fake explosions waiting for them when they get out of this place.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Scott snapped, fists clenched. They stared each other down, ready to strike, the type of posture favored by rowdy men in bar fights. Except this wasn’t a bar, and the two of them were far more dangerous than ordinary men throwing punches over a lady in a short skirt.
“There’re a lot of things you don’t notice.” Wolverine said in a low voice, pressing forward. Scott didn’t want to back up, but he didn’t want to be impaled on Wolverine’s claws, either.
“Yeah? Care to enlighten me?” Scott taunted, unable to believe he was having such a juvenile conversation, but there was just something about Logan that always infuriated him past all sense.
“Sure,” Wolverine said agreeably, and then grabbed Scott by the hair. His fingers pulled hard and he jerked Scott’s body against him. Before Scott could even think beyond the shock at what Logan had just done, Logan kissed him.
His mouth was hot, the rough stubble of his cheeks painful on Scott’s clean-shaven face. Scott struggled against him-at least, he thought it was struggling-which weirdly did not include pulling his mouth away.
In fact, it appeared to include more of grasping at Wolverine’s shoulders while he kissed him back than the actual trying-to-get-away kind of struggling. Wolverine backed him up against the wall, mouth hot, tongue pushing ruthlessly into Scott’s mouth.
Scott pushed back, shoving against Wolverine, which was sort of ridiculous because the man had to weigh 300 pounds with that adamantium skeleton. So he wasn’t really doing anything but shoving his body against Wolverine’s, rhythmically, and it actually felt…
Good.
“What the hell-” Scott finally tore his mouth away, breathing harshly, pressing the back of his slightly-shaking hand to his mouth. He had to stop this, now, because-
Wolverine still had him pressed to the wall, and Scott could tell he wasn’t the only one who wasn’t exactly…unmoved…by what had just happened. That shocked him into momentary silence.
“This is what you call a dominance fight, Summers,” Logan said in a low voice, and then roughly bit him on the neck.
“Why the fuck are we doing this?” Scott snarled, struggling again, but hands were wrapped vise-tight in Wolverine’s messy dark hair.
“Cause we’ve needed to do it for months.” Wolverine pulled back-his eyes were narrowed, his face flushed. He kissed him again, mouth hot, and Scott felt Wolverine’s claws ripping at his shirt. The metal briefly slid across his skin, and why in the hell did that feel…
Oh, Christ.
Something about this was so surreal that Scott couldn’t do anything as Logan pushed him down to the ground, straddling him. Logan weighed a lot but managed to keep most of his weight off of Scott so that he didn’t crush Scott’s pelvis. That was something, at least.
It took Scott a moment to come back and realize what was happening. He was pinned beneath Wolverine on the floor of the self-defense classroom, and the other man was biting his chest. It was also very difficult to mistake the fact that Scott had a rock hard erection, and unless he was wrong, so did Logan.
Logan’s mouth moved up to his neck again. “Did I win? That easy? Thought you had more fight in you, Summers. Disappointing.”
Scott snapped back to reality at that. He’d be damned if he’d lose, even if he didn’t’ have a clear idea as to why this was going on or how it had started. “Hardly,” Scott growled back, though his lacked the pure animalism of Logan’s. He did his best. Scott always did his best, no matter the task.
He struggled as much as he was able, shoving and biting, and Logan must have given in because the two of them were rolling around the floor. Logan’s shirt ended up flung somewhere near the door. Scott ended up on top of Logan, his mouth moving over Wolverine’s stomach. There was something very satisfying about biting him, sinking teeth into flesh stretched over corded muscle.
“Not bad. Not that great, but not bad,” Logan taunted him, staring up at him challengingly. He had his hands behind his head, like he was lying out by the pool in the summer.
“Shut up, Logan,” Scott muttered, and moved quickly-he wasn’t as bulky as Logan, but no adamantium and years of training made him very limber-to straddle the other man again. Logan didn’t move, but Scott could feel the tenseness in Logan’s body that meant if he wanted to, he could.
How did one end a dominance fight, anyway? Scott had no idea and he couldn’t very well ask.
Somehow the answer seemed to be to unbutton Logan’s jeans and shove his hand inside. Logan’s cock was thick and hard and pressed against his stomach beneath the cotton boxers he was wearing. As Scott wrapped his fingers around him, Logan let out a sound that was halfway between a growl and a moan.
Suddenly, Scott wanted to hear that sound again. Maybe he had figured out how to win a dominance fight, after all. He tightened his hand and moved it up and down, feeling a vicious satisfaction in the way Wolverine thrashed beneath him.
It felt good, better than anything had in months. Scott stopped thinking when Logan shifted and pressed his leg against Scott’s erection, pressing rhythmically while Scott jerked his hand faster. He’d be damned if he came first.
They were kissing again before Scott realized it, though it was more a mashing of mouths together and a battle of teeth and tongues than actual kissing. Wolverine was warm beneath him, so hot his body felt like a brand between Scott’s thighs. His body was hairy, hard-nothing that Scott was used to, but it was good, too.
“I could buck you off me if I wanted,” Logan gasped, and Scott knew he was close, could tell as Logan’s cock swelled in his hand as he continued to stroke.
“But you don’t want to,” Scott said smugly, and he smiled, and it might have been the most sincere smile he’d had on his face since life went to hell a few months back.
“Maybe not,” Logan gasped, and his back arched up off the floor, his hips bucking as he shoved himself harder into Scott’s hand. “But you don’t want me to, either.”
“Then who wins?” Scott asked, his breath coming hard and fast, and the world narrowed to Logan underneath him, his cock pulsing in Scott’s hand, and the friction against his cock as Logan’s leg continued to push, push, push…
Logan couldn’t answer, because he came hard all over Scott’s hand, warm and sticky, and it made Logan’s back arch again. This time Logan bared his throat as he made another braying sort of sound, and Scott gave a low laugh and leaned forward to bite Logan’s neck. “Guess I did.”
“Don’t-be-so-sure,” Logan panted, and bucked up, dislodging him. Scott was on his back with Logan’s palm pressed hard against his erection through his nice pair of khaki pants before he could say anything. Logan rubbed, hard, eyes glittering as he pressed Scott down into the floor. His claws were out and close to his face, and Scott must be psychotic because he sort of liked that.
Not that he’d admit that, ever. Ever.
“Want me to stop, Summers?” Logan purred-purred!-at him, and Scott could smell Logan’s scent and the smell of sex and it was all too much. He hadn’t had anyone but himself touch him in so long, and even that made him feel as if he was somehow dishonoring her--
He didn’t want to think about that just then. He didn’t want to think about pain, or grief, or responsibility, or anything at all. “No,” he moaned, and gave in, and Logan rewarded him by licking his stomach and sliding his hand inside Scott’s pants and fisting his cock.
Logan moved his hand once, twice, then growled, “Come for me,” and that was enough to push Scott over the edge. He cried out, his hands scratching down Logan’s bare chest as he came hard, and it was so wonderful to forget everything in a haze of pleasure, to let go.
Logan leaned back on his haunches when it was over and watched Scott with an unreadable expression. They both stood up; clothes a mess, hair tousled, both of them marked by teeth and sticky with come.
I really should be worried about this, Scott thought lazily as he stretched, feeling completely unconcerned about everything. He wondered how long this weird sense of euphoric apathy would last before the panic set in.
“Well, then,” Logan said, and Scott could hear the same thread of lazy satisfaction underneath his words. “Guess that settles that.”
Scott held a hand up. He didn’t want to argue, not again. “Logan, I don’t know if that fixed anything-” here, Logan snorted-“or if it solved any sort of problems between us.”
“You feel better?” Wolverine cocked his head at him with consideration. “Don’t lie. Do you?”
Scott’s shirt was torn, so he gave up trying to put it on and just crossed his arms over his chest. His scowl lacked any real heat. “Yeah,” he said gruffly, because lying would just be stupid right about now. “Guess so.”
Wolverine shrugged. “Then what’s it matter? Maybe we’ll get along now.”
“Permanently?” Scott was doubtful. “I mean, just because you’re not annoying me now-”
“Look, Summers. We may never answer the alpha male question, but right now, I like you more than I usually do. And I assume the feeling’s mutual, yeah?” Logan stalked over to him, and Scott found he didn’t really mind Logan was invading his personal space.
“Yeah. I do.” He raked his hand through his hair and smiled ruefully. “So this is what we have to do to get along?”
“Not every day,” Logan said, but he was pressing very close to him again. The gesture wasn’t sexual, though. In fact, it was almost like…
No. Scott refused to consider this was how Wolverine cuddled after sex. No.
“You know. Just whenever we get to the point where we can’t stand each other again.”
“So I’ll see you in here after dinner?” Scott joked, but he didn’t mean it.
“Shut up, Cyclops,” Logan said, but it was almost affectionate. He leaned down and sniffed him, nose pressed against Scott’s neck. “You smell like me. I like that.”
Scott had no idea what to say to that, and he was glad that Logan left without another word so that he didn’t have to think of anything. He made his way cautiously up to the staff wing, grateful no one saw him in the hallway, and immediately turned on the shower when he got back to his room.
He wondered which one of them won. Then he wondered if he really cared. Wolverine was right-they’d have to do it again sometime, to keep from killing each other.
Ah, well. Responsibility was his forte, after all. The most important thing was the team, and if that helped him and Logan to get along…that could only be beneficial, right?
That probably didn’t explain why he was humming in the shower, but Scott was really too exhausted to care. He’d worry about it later.