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Logan must have passed out during the free fall. He came to hanging from the bottom of the parachute, still strapped tandem-style to Summers. They were hung up in a tree, but not too far from the ground.
Scott was awake, albeit barely. He mumbled something when Logan shook him, but seemed to be having a hard time keeping his head up. Logan sliced them free and used the parachute cords to lower Scott to the ground before he jumped down. He tried to pull the parachute free, but it was so tangled in the canopy that Logan gave it up as a lost cause.
Scott had a bloody clot on the top of his head, which explained his disorientation. He must have hit his head on a branch on the way down. It didn’t seem seen too bad; he was mostly conscious at least, just fuzzy about what was happening.
Logan had grabbed one of the survival packs before they bailed out of the jet, and he was relieved to find that it was full of supplies. It didn't have a tent, but there was a shiny emergency blanket, a tarp, a small medical kit, a package of matches, water purification tablets, and some food rations. What it did not contain was a locator beacon or any kind of radio transmitter. The team would be able to track the jet to where it came down and start searching for them from there. Hopefully, he and Scott hadn't landed too far away from the crash site.
Logan opened the medical kit to look for anything which might help Scott's head wound. It was pretty basic, containing only a handful of supplies and bandages. Logan dabbed some antibiotic cream on the wound and covered it with a patch of gauze while Scott moaned. At least the cut had stopped bleeding already. That was probably good, right?
Logan wrapped the blanket around Scott and propped him up against a tree while he scouted the area. They had come down in a small ravine surrounded by thick deciduous forest. Based on what Logan could smell and hear, they must be miles from civilization or even a ranger station. He found a stream about a mile's distance from where they landed, and decided the high bank above it would be the best place to camp.
Scott was passed out when Logan found him again, so he put him over his shoulder and carried him to the new campsite. It was uphill, and Logan was cursing and swearing by the time he got Scott situated under a tree on the bank.
Logan propped a long stick in the fork of two trees so it was parallel to the ground and around four feet high. He reinforced the branch with some rope from the pack and used it as the roof line of a lean-to. Once the main branch was in place, all he needed to do was pile up sticks on one side to make a wall/roof. There were reeds along the bank of the river, which made a good protective layer on top of the sticks. The resulting wall was just big enough to block the wind and shelter them both. He tied the tarp over top to keep the water off if it rained.
With that done, Logan decided to scout out the area a bit more and gather some firewood before it got dark. He climbed a tree to get a better look around, but still couldn't see any signs of civilization. He detected a lot of animal scents—squirrels, deer, coyotes, foxes, black bears, and even a cougar—but no humans or domesticated animals.
When Logan returned, Scott seemed to be a little more with it. He was sitting up against the tree where Logan had left him and he raised his head at the sound of his approach.
"Who's there?"
"It's me," Logan said, dropping his armload of firewood.
Scott turned to face him and raised his hand to his head. He frowned and felt around the edges of the field visor he was wearing before casually lifting it while looking directly at Logan.
Logan had time to see the barest glint of red reflecting against Summers' cheekbones before he dove forward on top of him. "What the fuck—!"
Scott rolled defensively and tried to kick Logan in the crotch. Logan cursed but managed to twist away in time and pin Scott's legs down. They ended up under the lean-to as they struggled, but thankfully they didn't knock the whole thing over.
"Get off me!" Scott yelled, twisting unsuccessfully beneath Logan's adamantium-reinforced body weight.
"Will you calm down?" Logan snapped. "It's me!"
"Why did you jump me?" Scott asked indignantly.
"You tried to shoot me in the face!"
"No, I didn't!"
Logan raised himself up so he could get a better look at Scott. He looked mad, but also confused and kind of lost.
Scott shook his head like he was trying to dislodge the visor. "What's this thing on my face? I can hardly see a thing."
"What…? You can't take it off, stupid."
"Why not?" The furrow in Scott's brow deepened. "Wait, who are you?"
"Fuck," Logan said, sitting up and moving back to release him. "Fuck fuck shitting fuck."
Scott tilted his head like he wasn't impressed with Logan's profanity. "Do you have a nickname or anything? That's kind of long."
Logan sighed. "No. I mean, I'm Logan. I'm your—" He floundered for a word for a moment before landing on, "...teammate."
Scott tilted his head further like maybe he thought Logan was lying about his name or their relationship for some reason. "Okay…. Logan. Why can't I take this weird thing off my face?"
"Because your crazy laser eyes would blow the shit out of the shelter which I spent all morning building, thanks!"
"...laser eyes?"
"You're a mutant," Logan said impatiently. "Your power is shooting red beams out of your eye sockets which you control by wearing that visor at all times."
"Wait, are they beams or lasers?"
"What's the dif—? They're concussive force, uh, something. Look, I don't usually listen to you when you talk about stuff like that."
"Uh huh," Scott said. He sat up, wincing a little as he raised his head, and looked around the lean-to. He reached out and touched one of the sticks making up the single roof/wall. "So you—built this, huh?"
Logan snorted in annoyance. "I'm sorry, is the emergency shelter I built while your lazy ass was unconscious not up to your standards?"
Scott shrugged. "No, it's fine. But, wouldn't it make more sense to put the tarp on the ground?"
"No," Logan snapped. "Because then it won't keep us dry if it rains and we couldn't pull it down and use it as a makeshift door to block the wind."
"Hmm." Scott seemed unconvinced. He started to turn over before wincing hard and freezing.
"What's wrong?" Logan asked. He grabbed Scott's arm and looked him up and down for evidence of any injuries he missed.
"Nothing," Scott said as he laid back down. "It feels like my ribs are bruised and having you tackle me didn't help."
Logan frowned in concern. He unzipped Scott's uniform jacket and pulled up his shirt underneath to check. Sure enough there were dark splotches over his left side. He hoped it was only superficial bruising and not a sign of a more serious internal bleed.
Logan felt under Scott's shirt along his rib cage, trying to see how bad the damage was. His skin felt hot under Logan's cold hands. He pressed down on Scott's side gently, but didn't feel any unnatural movement or hear the creaking of cracked ribs. It must have been painful, but Scott only gritted his teeth and grimaced a little.
"Does it hurt to breathe?" Logan asked.
"Not a lot," Scott said. "Not like a stabbing pain, it's just sore."
"Okay, that's good." It might help to wrap his chest, but Logan didn't want to risk doing it badly and fucking his ribs up worse. Instead, he made a cold compress by taking off his own undershirt and dipping it in the cold water of the nearby stream. Logan was fine with just the jacket anyway. He was never bothered much by the cold.
---
Logan cleared some of the brush nearby to make a fire circle and lined it with rocks from the stream. Scott gave him a startled look when Logan popped his claws out to cut up the kindling.
"That's your mutation?" Scott asked.
Logan held his hand up so his claws caught the light. "Kinda. I heal up fast. The metal was... added later."
"Oh." Scott looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but Logan wasn't feeling very talkative.
Once Logan had a small campfire started, he went to gather more wood and left Scott resting under the lean-to. It would be dark in a few hours and he wanted to have plenty of wood before then. They might need it to scare off any bears that came sniffing around, attracted by the smell of their emergency food supplies.
Logan gathered several armloads of fallen branches and then used his claws to chop up part of a fallen tree. Scott was asleep after Logan's second or third trip back to the camp site, and he stayed asleep while Logan built up the fire and cracked open the rations. There were protein bars, dried fruit, a few packages of jerky, and bags of freeze-dried… something which didn't look very appealing. Logan chewed on the jerky and couldn't help wishing that the X-Men had packed a bag of hot dogs instead.
Logan woke Scott up to make him eat something. He groused a bit, but ate a protein bar once he was awake.
Scott wanted to sit up, so Logan rolled a log over to the fire that was long enough for both of them to lean against. Scott poked through the other rations and figured out that the bags of freeze-dried crap were actually soup which could be cooked in a collapsible silicone pot at the bottom of the emergency pack. They boiled water from the river and emptied one of the bags into it, ending up with a pretty decent lentil soup. It was hardy stuff, just what Scott needed to get his strength back and heal his ribs. With the supplies in the pack, Logan calculated that they should be fine for up to five days, even without factoring in any wild game he managed to catch.
It was a nice fall night, the sky clear and the weather dry. Logan wished he had a cigar. He felt almost relaxed now that they had shelter and food, and a smoke would be a nice cap on the night. Honestly, Logan would be enjoying himself if it weren't for residual worry about Scott's head injury.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Logan asked.
Scott sighed and picked at the bottom of the pot with the flat camp spoon. They only had the one and had been passing it back and forth as they finished off the soup. "I don't know—flying? Maybe? I remember seeing clouds and blue sky."
"Hm." Logan picked up a stick and used it to stir up the fire. Sparks rose into the air as he shifted the logs and the flames caught on new branches. Scott's face lit up orange around the edges as the fire rose higher.
"It'll probably come back to me in a day or two," Scott said. "Isn't that what they say?"
"How would you know?" Logan asked, and Scott shrugged.
"I still know things, it's just… everything I know about me is kind of hazy."
Scott set the pot down and picked up the reflective blanket draped across his lap. He wrapped it around his shoulders and shifted over until he was pressing against Logan's side. Logan almost moved away reflexively before he caught himself. Instead, he stretched and tried to act like he was just making himself more comfortable.
Scott tilted his head so it was resting against Logan's shoulder. "Sorry if I'm being annoying, I know you're just trying to keep me alive."
Logan poked at the fire unnecessarily with his stick and watched Scott out of the corner of his eye, wondering where this urge to get snuggly came from. "Hm, you cold?"
"Of course I'm cold," Scott said. "It's freezing out here."
The temperature was far above freezing, but Logan put his arm around Scott's back instead of nitpicking. He sniffed at the top of Scott's head, relieved to find he smelled dirty but still healthy. There was no whiff of sickness or infection around him.
“How long do you think it will take before someone finds us?”
“Hmmm…” Logan adjusted the edge of the blanket so it was wrapped tighter around Scott as he thought. “It might be a while. We were pretty high up when we bailed out and they’ll probably need to find the plane and recover the flight data to pinpoint our location.”
“What happened?” Scott asked. “I still don’t remember.”
“Uh, we were transporting a… prisoner. A mutant who used their powers to go on a crime spree. We thought we had him neutralized on the plane but somehow he must have slipped his bonds and he blew a hole in the side of the jet during his escape.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. So you sent Storm—she’s another teammate, one who can fly—to go after him while the two of us jumped with the parachute.”
“We have a friend who can fly? Why hasn’t she found us yet?”
Logan shrugged. "I'm sure she's looking, but we must have drifted pretty far off of the original flight path. It might be a while."
Scott grimaced. "Great."
---
They spent the night under the lean-to, pressed up against one another since there wasn't much space and Scott needed the shared body heat anyway. Logan tried to give Scott the blanket, but when he woke up it was draped over both of them and Scott was drooling on his shoulder.
Logan got up and cursed the fact that there wasn't any coffee in the emergency rations. He ate some of the jerky and built the fire back up while considering what to do next. He decided to pick a direction and hike until he either found game or people.
Scott sat up when Logan woke him to explain his plan. "I'll come with you," he said, pushing off the blanket and knocking leaves out of his hair.
"No, you won't," Logan said. He was sorting through the items in the pack, taking out most of the food to leave with Scott and taking only the more useful items like the canteen and a swiss-army knife. He also pocketed a little tub of vaseline from the med kit. A healing factor didn't prevent chapped lips.
"My head only hurts a little now," Scott said. "And my ribs. But otherwise I'm fine."
"You have a concussion," Logan said. "You're going to stay here and rest until I come back with dinner or a rescue party."
Scott looked put out, but eventually he accepted the inevitable and stayed at the campsite while Logan set off.
Logan headed south following the stream and made good time despite the difficult terrain. By midday, he'd probably hiked a good ten miles without any sign of humanity. He turned back with the resolution to try hiking north tomorrow.
On the way back, Logan broke off his path to follow a game trail until he startled a doe hiding in a thicket of brambles. She froze, giving Logan an opening to slash her across the throat. She made it three stumbling steps away before the bloodloss made her falter and she collapse to the ground.
"There you go, it’s over now," Logan said, covering her eyes as he knelt down and finished her with a single stab to the heart. He didn't much like hunting, but the meat would stretch out their rations another three or four days while they waited for rescue.
Logan tied up the doe's legs and gutted her there, so the offal wouldn't attract predators back to their campsite. He worked fast, and the doe was still warm when he put the carcass over his shoulders. The weight of her kept him warm as he hiked the remaining distance back to the camp.
Scott was eating a protein bar when Logan arrived and dropped the carcass next to the fire. "No rescue, huh?"
"Nope."
Logan used his own claws to finish skinning the carcass and cut off one of the haunches to roast on the fire. The rest of the meat he carried some distance from the campsite and hung it up high in a tree. If a bear or a cougar came along, better that it climbed the tree and chowed down there rather than sniffing around their lean-to.
Logan was covered in a lot of gore by that point and he started stripping out of his uniform as he walked back. Scott was watching him over the fire and gave Logan an odd look as he headed down to the stream. "It'll be cold," Scott called after him.
"Yeah, I'm sure it will." Logan walked downstream a ways before toeing into the water. It only came up to his shins and it was very cold, unsurprisingly. Logan rinsed his clothes out first and then bent down and splashed around until the blood on his hands and arms was gone. He shook off like a dog before climbing the bank back to the campfire.
Scott handed him the emergency blanket when he reached the fire circle and Logan wrapped it around his shoulders gratefully. The warmth was welcome after the cold water of the stream. He laid out his uniform, socks, and underwear on rocks near the fire. Hopefully his clothes would all be dry before bedtime, otherwise he was going to have a cold night.
The venison was good, rare on the inside and charred on the outside from the fire. He could have used a cold beer to go with it, but all they had was treated water from the stream.
Logan's uniform dried out quickly, thanks to the leather, but his socks and underwear were still damp by the time the sun set. Logan left them by the fire to finish drying overnight and pulled on his pants before joining Scott under the lean-to.
"Here," Logan said, passing Scott his jacket.
"Uh, I have one?" Scott said.
"Yeah, take it off."
"Eh?" Logan could just barely make out Scott raising his eyebrows at him in the dim light.
"Put one on the ground for insulation and use the other as a blanket."
"Won't you be cold?" Scott pointed out.
"No, because I'm going to share it with you."
"Oh." Scott followed Logan's instructions and spread his jacket out on the ground and lay down on it. Logan joined him and they arranged themselves with the emergency blanket over their legs and Logan's jacket covering their upper bodies.
Logan put his arm around Scott's shoulders and pulled him in to press against his chest. "See?" he said. "Bare skin transmits heat better."
"Mhmm," Scott said. He shivered a little and reached up to press two large ice cubes against Logan's chest.
"Fuck," Logan said, shuddering as he realized the ice was actually Scott's hands. "Have you been holding those in the river?"
"Not everyone is blessed with a thick layer of body hair like you are."
Logan sighed and took Scott's hands in his own and blew on them in an effort to warm them up to something resembling body temperature. "It's a good thing I'm here or you'd be hypothermic for sure."
"Yes, I'm very relieved," Scott said, and yawned.
---
Instead of trying another fruitless hike in the morning, Logan decided to finish preparing the carcass. It had thankfully gone unmolested overnight. He used logs to build a box around the fire to trap and direct the smoke, and laid strips of venison on top to cure. It wasn't airtight enough to smoke the meat properly, but it should help preserve it for another week or so while they waited for rescue.
Scott woke up a few hours after the sun rose and crawled out of the lean-to.
"Any chance you could fry up some bacon?" he asked as he approached the fire circle and handed Logan his jacket.
Logan tossed it onto the log behind them. He was already plenty warm from the fire. "Not unless you find a cast iron skillet tree somewhere around here."
"I live in hope," Scott said, sitting down and chewing carefully on some partially-smoked venison. He was bleary eyed and rather disheveled looking, especially with the bandage still wrapped around his head.
Logan leaned closer to sniff him and frowned at the slightly sour smell of the wound. "We need to clean that out today."
"In the icy cold stream? No thanks."
Logan rolled his eyes. "I'll heat up some water for you."
Scott made him boil the water in case there were any parasites in the little stream. Logan thought it unlikely, but he didn’t normally need to worry about such things with his healing factor.
Once the water had cooled down enough to be comfortable, Logan made Scott sit with his head bowed while he unwrapped the gauze. The wound had scabbed over and actually didn’t look too bad, considering, but Scott’s hair was matted with blood and dirt all around it. Logan splashed water on his scalp and gently rinsed the filth away while trying not to reopen the scabs.
“You’re probably going to have a bald spot here,” Logan said as he smeared antibiotic cream over the wound and reapplied the gauze.
Scott grimaced and sat up once Logan was done. His hair stuck up in damp tufts around the fresh bandage. “Great. I wish we had a mirror so I could take a look at it.”
“Probably better that we don’t,” Logan said, glancing down at his filthy hands. A good portion of the dirt from Scott’s scalp was now under his fingernails. “Neither of us makes a very pretty picture right now.”
Scott laughed. “Nah, the whole… bearded woodsman thing kind of works for you.”
Logan shrugged and glanced at his uniform jacket. “I admit I wouldn’t mind swapping the leather for flannel.”
“It would probably be more comfortable,” Scott admitted and scratched at his back under his jacket. He unzipped it and pulled his undershirt off over his head. “I think I’ll take a leaf from your book and wash this out.”
Logan watched as Scott bent over the pot of water and began scrubbing at his shirt in an effort to get the sweat stains off. He was pleased to see that the bruises on Scott side had started to fade and turn green as they healed.
“How’s your head today?” Logan asked.
“I've still got a bit of a headache, but not too bad, why?”
Logan frowned and shifted some of the venison hanging over the fire. “I want to try following the river again tomorrow, but I think it’s going to take a couple of days to hike out.”
“You think they’re not going to find us?”
“I think I’m too impatient to wait.”
Scott nodded. “Okay, the remaining food will fit in the pack and if we stick by the river we won’t need to worry about water.”
“Hm, no, food stays here with you and I head out myself. It’ll be faster.”
Scott’s forehead creased in annoyance. “I think I can handle a little hike.”
“Multiple days hiking off-trail isn’t going to be easy.”
“Won’t we be going downhill?” Scott pointed out, his voice starting to take on a whining tone.
“This isn’t an argument. You’re staying here.”
“What if you get eaten by a bear and never make it to civilization?”
Logan popped his claws. “I’m not going to get eaten by a bear.”
“What if I get eaten by a bear while you’re gone? Won’t you feel guilty?”
“No, and the only bears around here are black bears, they’re easy to scare off. I’d be more worried about you getting trampled by a moose.”
Scott tilted his head and Logan got the idea he was being glared at. “What if I freeze to death without you?”
“There’s plenty of dry firewood.”
Scott frowned and fell silent, likely mulling over other possible arguments he could make. Logan ignored him and got up to start building a second wall for the lean-to. He was still pretty sure Scott wouldn’t freeze to death, but he wanted to leave him with as much shelter as possible to be on the safe side.
Around midday, Scott heated up another one of the soup packets and interrupted Logan to give him some. Logan was in the middle of weaving reeds to make a mat to serve as a floor/mattress for the lean-to.
“My head barely hurts anymore and it doesn’t make sense to split up or to divide our food supplies," Scott said, holding out the pot to him.
“Uh huh,” Logan said, taking a sip of the reconstituted cream of chicken soup. It was pretty good. “How’s your amnesia?”
“Better,” Scott said. He smiled like he was proud of his progress and wanted to show off. “I remembered we work at a school when we’re not fighting evil mutants. Xavier’s School for the Gifted. Xavier is the old guy in charge.”
“Hm, good,” Logan said. “You remember Ororo?”
“Storm,” Scott said, smug. “Weather powers.”
“I told you that already. How about Hank?”
“Uh, he’s... blue? I think?”
“Yep, impressive.” Logan paused before adding. “Jean?”
Scott frowned and looked down thoughtfully. “Um, I don’t know, who’s she?”
“Your, uh, ex…” Logan didn’t really want to explain what had happened to Jean right now. Better to let it come back to him on its own.
Scott continued to stare at the ground, his forehead creased with concentration. “I remember… I was in a meeting at the school with the team, the X-Men, but I don’t remember anyone called Jean there.”
"She wouldn't be. Sounds like you're getting back your most recent memories first. That makes sense. I guess?"
"Hm, I remember teaching, too… a math class."
"That must be the morning before we left."
Scott nodded slowly. "One of the students was being really annoying, a teenage boy, but I don't remember his name."
"That sounds like… well, honestly, it could be any of the students, most of them are little shits."
Scott smiled. "Why are you so eager to get out of here again?"
"I'm tired of looking at your ugly mug," Logan said, and returned to working on his reed mat.
---
Logan spent the afternoon shoring up the lean-to, smoking the rest of the venison, and chopping extra firewood with his claws. He stacked the firewood up behind the lean-to until it was high enough to block off the back entrance. With that done, the lean-to now had three walls, fresh thatching on the roof, and several layers of reed mats on the ground. It was pretty sumptuous as far as forest accomodations went.
Scott didn't seem to appreciate Logan's hard work. He was still determined to come with Logan the next day and had tried several new arguments on him as the afternoon and the evening worn on.
A few hours before sunset they ate more of the rehydrated soup for dinner and watched the fire burn down. They were splitting the remaining dried fruit for dessert, and Scott was being suspiciously quiet. He was likely working on a new line of attack.
As if hearing Logan's suspicions, Scott scooted down the log closer to him and announced, "I'm cold."
Logan sighed and put his arm around his shoulders and pulled Scott in to press against his side. "Better?"
"Yes. Do you think it'll snow while we’re out here?"
"No," Logan said. "The weather’s been clear and it’s too early in the year."
Scott sighed and leaned in to rest his head on Logan' shoulder. "I guess so."
Logan looked down at the top of his head and wondered what Scott was trying to pull. Acting helpless actually wasn't a very good strategy since it only reinforced that Scott should stay here and continue to recuperate while Logan went for help.
"You want the last apricot?" Scott asked, holding up the plastic bag.
"Nah, you finish it." Logan tilted his head back and found himself wishing, again, that he had a cigar. It was so peaceful out here, no noise from unseen highways or dogs baking in the distance. Just the sounds of wildlife and the gentle rushing of the stream nearby.
Logan was still looking up when Scott tugged on the collar of his jacket to get his attention. Logan glanced down at him, half expecting another argument, and was surprised when Scott pulled him into a kiss instead.
Logan still had his eyes open and he blinked in confusion as he stared cross-eyed into Scott's visor. The lenses were dark except for the flicker of reflected light, which probably meant Scott had his eyes closed. Logan closed his own as well and tried to figure out exactly what this meant. Under normal circumstances he would probably be shoving Scott away and shouting "the fuck?" but… this wasn't normal circumstances. Logan shifted his head to deepen the kiss and Scott made a little noise that made Logan's groin tighten up. Scott was a pretty good kisser. Not that Logan would ever admit that to him.
Logan brought his hand up to cup the back of Scott's head and encountered the edges of the bandage. Should he feel guilty about this? Technically, Scott wasn't in his right mind, even if his amnesia seemed to be wearing off. People acted weird in survival situations too. Maybe this was a strange reaction to Logan planning to leave the next morning.
Logan debated pushing Scott away and finally decided that a little make out session was acceptable in the name of keeping warm. Scott's cheeks and neck were already developing a healthy flush and he looked a lot less cold than he had a few minutes earlier. One of Scott's hands drifted down to rest on Logan's thigh, and Logan decided that the survival benefits of a handjob were also acceptable under the circumstances.
"Logan," Scott said, pulling away to catch his breath. "What do you say we go break in the lean-to?"
"We better not break anything," Logan said darkly. "I spent all day working on that."
Scott looked upward like he was rolling his eyes. "Fine, let's go fuck very carefully in the lean-to."
He reached for Logan's hand and started to get up before realizing Logan wasn't coming with him. Scott paused, half-standing, and looked down at Logan in confusion.
Logan was having a weird moment of cognitive dissonance, unable to reconcile Scott Summers saying "fuck" to him. Not just saying fuck: Scott Summers using fuck as a verb and meaning the two of them should do it. Together. This was such a bad idea.
"What?" Scott said, sitting down next to him again. "Have we not fucked yet?"
"Yet?" Logan couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "What?—no. Of course we haven't had sex before!"
Scott's frown deepened. "Never? I'm not religious am I?"
"Huh? No."
"Oh good." Scott let out a sigh and put his hands on Logan's shoulders. "So… you wanna…"
Logan pushed Scott's hands away. "No, first, what the fuck did you mean by 'yet?'"
Scott shrugged. "Well, we clearly have some sexual tension going on."
Logan stared at him opened mouthed and Scott was definitely rolling his eyes at him this time. "Come on, Logan, you've been coddling me this whole time—"
"You have a head injury!"
"And acting out your caveman fantasy where you go hunting all day while I lie in a faint waiting for you to come back—"
"You'd rather be eating nothing but lentils and shoe leather?"
Scott gave him a knowing look. "Don't tell me getting naked the other day wasn't for my benefit."
"I needed. to. bathe." Logan said, articulating each word slowly so Scott would understand him even with his debilitating head injury.
"Come on, you could have cleaned off before you got back. That plus all the cuddling at night?"
"Sharing body heat so you don't die of fucking exposure. And, excuse me, you've been the cuddly one, not me."
"You reciprocated," Scott pointed out. "Plus all the—the sniffing."
"What?" Now Logan was genuinely insulted. "I have heightened senses. I'm sniffing you in case your wounds get worse and you develop gangrene or something."
"My wounds are fine. I'm fine. I don't even feel dizzy or lightheaded anymore and I'm perfectly capable of helping with my own survival and hiking out of here."
Logan took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself down. "Fine. I'm sorry if I've been smothering you in my effort to keep your sorry ass alive. Tomorrow we can—you can come with me. But if you can't keep up, I'm bringing you back here and I don't want to hear another fucking word about it."
"Thank you," Scott said. He leaned in and gave Logan a kiss on the cheek. "I know you mean well."
He sounded a little too patronizing for Logan to let that go without insulting him in turn. "Scott, here's the thing—you're not actually very good at reading other people. In fact, you're kind of bad at it."
"Uh huh." Scott's eyes dropped down to Logan's lap to look at the still-visible bulge in his pants. "So you're not attracted to me?"
"I—" Logan blew out a breath in frustration. "I know you haven't seen yourself in a mirror lately, but you're not actually ugly, okay. You're pretty… pretty."
Scott tilted his head. "Aw, thank you, Logan. You're not so bad yourself."
"I didn't mean it as a compliment," Logan grumbled.
"Now can we fuck?"
"No? We don't even have any lube."
Scott sighed. "You're the survival expert. Can't you use deer fat or tree sap or something?"
"Ew, no, that's not—" Logan broke off as he remembered the little tub of vaseline. He'd heard once that you shouldn't use petroleum-based products as lube, but desperate times... He thought that was only if you were using a condom anyway, and they didn't have any of those. Which was a shame, if they had condoms he could have used them for extra water storage.
"Logan?" Scott asked, looking hopeful.
"When your memory comes back you better remember that this was your idea," Logan said and got up to look for the pack.
---
"Oh, god—" Scott said, and hissed through his teeth as Logan froze between his legs.
"Bad?" he asked.
Scott reached behind him and swatted ineffectively at Logan's side in response. "No, it's, uh, give me a second here."
Logan nervously adjusted his grip on Scott's hips and almost pulled out, but decided it was better to wait if Scott wanted him to wait. They were kneeling at the edge of the fire circle, Scott with his elbows braced on a log while Logan knelt behind him. Sweat glistened in a sheen over Scott’s back, reflecting in the dappled light from the canopy of trees overhead. There was a rock or something sharp poking Logan in one knee, but he didn't want to risk disturbing Scott by shifting his weight off of it.
Scott took several long, slow breaths and made a noise at the back of his throat that had Logan's dick twitching inside him. He didn't want to see Scott in pain, but it was admittedly kind of hot to have him squirming and gasping and struggling to adjust to Logan's cock. Logan was only a simple caveman after all.
Scott seemed to be coming around quickly anyway. Logan could feel his body relaxing, the tight clench around his dick easing as he adjusted to the intrusion. Scott shifted back slightly, pushing down further on Logan's shaft, and took a short, startled breath. He hesitated a moment before moving again, forward this time so that Logan’s cock eased out of him.
Logan shifted his weight as Scott pulled off of him, making sure his dick was angled to stroke his prostate on the way out. He knew he'd gotten it right when Scott gasped and shuddered and pushed back down immediately, chasing after the sensation.
Logan dug his fingers into Scott’s hips as he began making shallow, rolling thrusts against him. Scott's spine arched and the muscles in his back flexed as he moved in a gradually-building rhythm. He was grunting a little, but otherwise holding in his responses. Logan should have guessed that Scott would be quiet in bed. It made Logan want to make him get loud.
Logan rocked in time with Scott’s movements, but held back from taking over or pounding into him. He figured he should let Scott set the pace since it was his first time, at least as far as Scott could remember. Scott's breathing was growing heavier as he kept pushing back on his sweet spot over and over again.
Logan realized belatedly that Scott was touching himself and reached underneath to help him. Scott sighed with relief as Logan's fist closed over his cock and dropped his arm down to brace himself. Now Scott was moving back and forth between the tight grip of Logan's hand and the heavy heat of his cock inside him. It must have felt good because Scott was moaning now, the sound strangled like he was fighting to keep it inside but couldn't help letting go as he got more excited.
Logan leaned forward, folding himself over Scott's long back, and rubbed his face between his shoulder blades. "You gonna come on my dick, Scotty?"
Scott laughed breathlessly in response and muttered, "What do you think? God, Logan, I'm so close, I'm—oh—"
Warm come pumped over Logan's fingers as Scott tipped his head back. His mouth stretched in a grimace of pleasure and Logan was sure if he could see his eyes they would be squeezed closed.
Logan kept pumping his fist until Scott dropped his head and his shoulders slumped. He rubbed Scott’s sides and patted his hip as he caught his breath. Logan could have come right then and there, but he wanted to savor the moment a little.
He reached down and spread Scott open as he eased his cock out of him. Scott sighed a little and shifted his legs, but stayed bent over as Logan held him open with one hand, cupping his ass and squeezing one cheek while his thumb brushed the rim of his hole. With his free hand, Logan stroked his cock and thought about how he'd just been fucking Scott Summers of all people, had his dick buried in his uptight field leader's ass, that same leader who would be ordering Logan around again as soon as he had his memory back. Scott Summers, with his pretty face and his perfect body and his tight little hole. Logan pressed in with his thumb, pushing inside as Scott groaned needily—
Logan came, shooting off hard and hitting the back of Scott's thighs. He adjusted his aim before he finished to paint a line up the curve of one cheek and over Scott's twitching hole.
"Oh, wow," Scott said, looking back at him as Logan finished. "Fuck, Logan."
Logan hooked his arms under Scott's shoulders and wrenched him up into a kiss. Scott flailed a little before twisting around to face him fully without breaking away from Logan's mouth. It was an aggressive kiss, hot and intense like they were just warming up instead of both having come moments ago.
Logan pushed Scott flat on his back on the ground and rubbed his still-hard cock against Scott’s thigh. He was ready for another round, naturally, and Scott must have been too because he wrapped his legs around Logan's waist and hitched up his hips in an obvious invitation.
Logan didn't need a formal summons. He reached down to line up his cock and shoved back into Scott's well-lubed ass. This time, Logan didn't hesitate before slamming his hips into him. Scott cried out and held on as Logan thrust over and over into him.
It was fast and rough and Logan fucked sounds out of Scott he never would have expected to hear from his stoic leader. Scott squeezed his legs tightly and scratched the hell out of Logan's back while he alternately cursed and praised him. "Is that—all you—got? Fuck fuck, Logan, like that, yes, god!"
Logan came inside Scott with a deep feeling of satisfaction. He thought this might be what it felt like to come home carrying a freshly-killed mammoth and fuck his adoring mate on a pile of animal pelts he'd cleaned himself.
When he was finished, Logan sat back on his haunches and stretched his back and shoulders while Scott flopped out exhausted on the ground. He reached down to fondle Scott's cock and balls experimentally, but Scott slapped his hand away. "Christ, give me a minute will you? My mutant powers didn't give me a super dick like yours did."
"Heightened stamina," Logan explained, leaning down for a kiss. "And my healing factor makes my recovery time faster."
Scott kissed him back and sighed. "Whatever."
---
In the morning, they woke up to find Storm waiting by the fire. She'd discovered their campsite in a dawn flyby and had sat down to wait while they slept. She was eating their last granola bar when Scott and Logan stumbled out of the lean-to.
"You looked cozy," Ororo explained, turning away as Scott and Logan got dressed. "I didn't want to wake you."
"How much would I need to pay you to pretend that you didn't see… anything?" Logan asked as he zipped up his pants. He was trying hard not to think about what he had been doing to Scott a few hours earlier on top of the same log Ororo was now sitting on.
"Hmmm, I don't know about payment," Ororo said, pretending to think about it. "But I wouldn't mind if you took over my study hall for the rest of the semester."
"Done," Logan said. He reached over to pluck a dry leaf out of Scott's hair and Scott smiled at him. Logan smiled back without thinking and realized that even if Ororo didn't blab, he was going to have a hard time keeping this a secret. Hopefully Scott wouldn't decide it was all a terrible mistake once his memories came back in full.
"Ready?" Ororo asked as she stood up.
"Definitely," Scott said.
Logan sighed and looked back at the lean-to he'd spent so much time sprucing up. He wouldn't mind a few more days out in the woods, especially if they passed the time the way they had last night. Still, he also had a hankering for a steak dinner and a cigar. Maybe Scott would even want to share it with him when they got back to the mansion.
"Sure," Logan said. "Let's go."