Work Text:
X-men
Logan/Remy
NC-17
"But I would never sleep with you," Remy said.
He and Logan were laying on the lawn looking at the stars, as far away from the mansion as they could get. The case of beer between them was half empty. They'd gone through rating all the people they knew in common as potential bed partners, until they got to themselves.
Mostly, they agreed, at least where their interests coincided. Remy would do Scott, just to shut him up, but Logan was too straight to consider that one, for instance. Of course, Remy would go for Jean, but he had tried not to sound too eager on that front. Logan could be very possessive about her, despite never having gotten so far as a kiss, and Remy intended to end this night with all his limbs still attached to his body.
Storm: too much of a friend, a sister, to both of them. Remy would be happy to play with Hank - if only because he wanted to hear those patrician tones talking dirty.
Rogue? That was interesting. Logan got all quiet. Never really answered the question. Didn't want to admit that she had grown up that far, Remy suspected. Her mutation made things difficult - but Remy would definitely be interested, though she had yet to treat him as anything other than Logan's friend.
Interesting conversation, all of it. Still, Remy had hoped to avoid this discussion. If he had said, yes, Logan, I would sleep with you in a hot second, Logan could have turned that around and used it against him for days. And his reasons for saying no, they could almost be turned into a yes, and he did not want to have that conversation with oh-so-straight Logan.
Turns out he shouldn't have had those last few beers, though, because he found himself on the verge ofexplaining. That wouldn't do.
"Why not?" Logan said. "I'm not bad looking. I wash. A lot of people have wanted to sleep with me."
"Don't sulk," Remy said.
"I'm insulted." Logan crunched a beer can in one hand and tossed it into the dark.
It sounded like he was sulking.
"Oh, lord. Why do you care? You don't sleep with men," Remy said, rolling toward the beer and groping for another can. "My theoretical disinterest doesn't affect you."
"Nobody likes to be rejected," Logan muttered.
Discussions with Logan over anything personal always turned out to be a bad idea, something Remy needed to remember never to repeat. One skill Remy had perfected in his misspent life: ignoring the topics he did not wish to address.
Remy lay back, tipped beer down his throat. Contemplated the stars. Drank more beer. Tried to think of something to say about motorcycles. Failed.
Logan was still sulking. Remy could practically smell it. Why couldn't he just leave these things alone?
"Why not?" Logan said.
"All right. I would never sleep with you because you'd get clingy." Remy braced himself for Logan's response.
"Clingy? I don't get clingy. I've fucked all kinds of people without giving a damn. Some I didn't even know their names!"
Remy snorted and balanced the beer can on one finger. "Right. We do the deed, you'd get clingy and possessive, just like you do with women."
"So what if I did?"
"So you get clingy from just one night, and I wouldn't like it. Not like it would be worth it, if it's just experimentation for you, right?"
More beer disappeared.
Remy tried and failed to make a pyramid out of empties without sitting up.
Crickets chirped.
"If I promised not to get clingy, would you sleep with me?" Logan asked, finally.
"Perhaps we should just forget this conversation."
"I want to know. Theoretically," Logan said.
Remy sat half up and looked over at him, suspicious. "How theoretical is this question?"
Logan pounced, quick as a ferret, and pinned Remy's shoulders to the grass.
Remy oofed out a breath, but didn't try to throw Logan off.
"Not very," Logan said, grinning over him.
"Oh," Remy said. Logan felt heavy, leaning into his shoulders. Remy could not deny he craved that from a man, that strength. "I thought you were straight."
Logan shrugged, without losing his grip on Remy's shoulders. "Been about 20 years since I last had a man."
"Are you going to promise?" Remy raised an eyebrow. There was no point in asking why me. Questions like that were a waste of time. Who really wanted the answer?
"To not get clingy? Yeah. I promise," Logan said.
"Really? Truly, you won't?" Remy looked skeptical. That had been too easy.
"I didn't say anything about not getting possessive," Logan said, and kissed Remy like he already owned him.
Remy grabbed Logan's head and pulled him closer, mouth opening eagerly for his tongue, hips jerking up to meet Logan's.
Logan mouthed Remy's throat, bit at his collarbone. Somehow, Remy's shirt had come unbuttoned and Logan's big hands had migrated to his chest, his ribs, his belly.
A heavy thigh slid between Remy's, weighed deliberate against Remy's needy cock. Remy arched up and Logan did it again, pressing his hips down and pushing at the same time.
Remy snaked a hand between them and unfastened and worked buttons free, shoved zippers down, to let him free both cocks. Logan held himself back until Remy had them both exposed and sliding together. Remy drove his aching cock up against Logan. In response, Logan rutted against Remy, cock shoving clumsy against cock.
That wasn't enough to send the sparks between them flaring, Remy realized, and shifted to give himself some room. Logan gasped into Remy's neck when the man gripped both their cocks with an experienced hand, and worked them in tandem, fingers and palm gripping, rubbing, squeezing.
With the other hand, Remy dragged Logan's head down and kissed him rough, out of rhythm with their stuttering hips. His hand rode both organs out of instinct, finesse left in the dust as he tried to urge pleasure to crest, to crash over and break.
He thrust up harder against Logan, hand gripping, stroking, stripping, four times, five, pleasure a red hot glare that flared to white as he hit his release. He arched into Logan, soundless, and rode the wave 'til it crashed..
Logan growled, not quite there. Remy squeezed his rigid cock, slid a rough thigh over him, was rewarded with the heavy press of his hips. Encouraged, Remy traced fingernails over his cock, over the head and down to the root, back to scratch at his tight balls.
With a wordless curse, Logan surged against him and came, groaning in his throat.
Crickets chirped.
Remy hoped they didn't show on the security monitors, but could not be bothered to worry about the possibility.
"Not bad for a warm up," Logan said, rolling off Remy to sprawl in the grass next to him.
"Warm up? Or do you mean test drive?" Remy wouldn't mind another go-round. Would really like to spend some time learning Logan's ins and outs.
"If you've watched a man fight, you know how he's going to fuck," Logan said, turning on his side and putting a proprietary arm over Remy's chest.
"I thought I recognized your damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead style," Remy said.
"What's the land equivalent of torpedoes?"
"Grenades or rocket launchers, I guess," Remy said. "Or cannonballs, if you're feeling historical. You always discuss weaponry after coming?"
"I guess you'll have to stick around and find out," Logan said.
"Why should I stick around?"
"I want you to. Is that enough?" Logan said.
"That's plenty," Remy said, voice a little rough.
Logan smiled, just a little. He rolled to his feet, tucked himself away, and pulled Remy to his feet. He waited for Remy to rearrange his clothes, kissed him hard and thorough.
Remy leaned into the bigger man, would his fingers into Logan's thick hair. Adrenaline and desire raced through his bloodstream. He hoped Logan was okay with other people knowing about them. There was no way he could be in the same room with the man and react to him like a friend or teammate. Already, Remy could feel his body tuning itself to the big man's presence.
Wind stirred through the grass. An owl called.
"Time to go in, I think," Remy said, and stepped away from Logan before he could drag him back down to the ground and get him entirely naked this time.
They walked toward the mansion, separate at first, until Logan put a heavy arm around Remy's shoulders and pulled him against his side.
Talking about personal stuff with Logan hadn't been so bad, Remy thought, bemused, as the back door shut behind them and they climbed the back stairs.
"Come on," Logan said, turning him down the hall towards his room. "I'll give you a guided tour of my bed."
"I hear kinky things happen there," Remy said.
Logan grinned and threw his door open. "Theoretically."