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Beware of Pool Sharks

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"Come on, Slim. Jeannie's orders. Gotta getcha out before ya start to mold." Logan took the pen out of Scott's hand. The man didn't really protest, merely sighed and rubbed his forehead.


"Harry's fer a start." Scott sighed again and Logan dragged him up to his feet. "Let's go, Slim."


"Jeannie's suggestion. Move." Logan shoved him in the direction of the door. Scott glared at the Canadian. "We're gonna drink. We're gonna play pool."

"We're going to play in the Danger Room if you don't keep your hands to yourself."

"Yer in a bitchy mood, ain't ya? I'm driving. Move." They made it to the garage without significant bodily damage being done to anyone. "Get in," Logan ordered.

Scott muttered "asshole" under his breath and settled into the passenger side of the Jeep. He yanked his seatbelt on and closed his eyes. The ride was blissfully silent. Logan lit his cigar and Scott sneezed. "Are you smoking. . . ACHOO. . . those cheap pieces of shit again?"

"Bless you. Fergot yer allergic to 'em," he apologized, stubbing it out. It was summer so the sides of the Jeep were off. Scott sniffed a bit more, then the smoke dissipated completely.

"I told you I'd buy you good ones."

"With Worthington's money?"

"Of course. That's what blackmail photos are *for* after all."

"And folks say yer a Boy Scout."

"I'm *always* prepared."

"So where do you keep the lube?"

"Right front pocket of my jeans. So, are you financing this little expedition?"

"Yep. Ain't like you drink much." Scott gave into the childish impulse and stuck out his tongue. "Promise?"




"Ya sure got a mouth on you, Slim."

"You ain't heard nothing yet."

"I better do somethin' about that then," Logan mused. He settled a hand on Scott's thigh as they drove.

"Paws off you lumberjack reject."

"What's wrong, Slim, makin' ya squirm?"

"Making my skin crawl."

Logan rubbed comfortingly and Scott did squirm. He didn't like the sensation of cloth rubbing his skin. Like Rogue, he knew the benefits of staying covered up when it came to controlling his powers. That didn't mean he liked it. The heat of Logan's palm soaked through the denim. He shivered when it disappeared so Logan could shift gears.

Logan's hand settled a little higher on Scott's leg, making his plans for the night exceptionally clear. Scott wasn't sure he wanted to play. The thick fingers brushed against Scott's groin, then disappeared as they pulled into the parking lot.

Harry got them their first beers of the night and they settled down to play at Scott's favorite pool table. Eventually, Logan coaxed a laugh and a genuine smile from the field leader when he fell flat on his ass. He glared at the chair that had the nerve to move on him. Scott doubled over in laughter, pool cue dangling in his grip. Behind the bar, Harry grinned at the calculated fall.

Scott offered a hand up and Logan pulled him down instead. Automatically, Scott's other hand went to hold his glasses on, resulting in the smack of the pool cue into Logan's collar bone. "Ouch," Harry muttered. "No rough-housing in the bar, boys! Take it outside!"

"Yes, sir," Scott said with a salute. They mock-fought out to the car and into the woods behind the bar. Logan's swipes became a little less haphazard and he shredded the shirt away from Scott's torso.

"Watch the claws, Runt."

Logan's grin was slightly feral. He moved suddenly, sweeping Scott's legs out from under him. Scott landed with a quiet "oof" and a curse. Logan straddled Scott's hips and drove his claws into the ground to pin down the younger man's arms. He delved into Scott's mouth for a long, sweet kiss. He retracted his claws and ran his thick fingers up from wrists to shoulders, then down Scott's chest.

He kissed each rib reverently and Scott started to move. Scott traced over Logan's legs and chest with deft fingers. He tangled his fingers in the soft curls of Logan's chest, searching for the tiny nubs that would make the Canadian writhe under his touch.

Logan's fingers found homes in Scott's hair, pinning him fast for a deep, furious kiss. Then, they pulled Scott's jeans and shorts down to his ankles. Then, stripped off Logan's clothing. Logan snorted when he found the tube exactly where Scott had said it was. "I'd say something about great minds, but that would be insulting myself," Scott said airily. Logan growled and kissed him again. Scott was tight so Logan moved slowly. He settled his mouth around Scott's cock and tongued the underside of it slowly. His other hand settled in the center of Scott's chest. Scott's hands clenched in the remnants of his shirt which were padding the ground. He whimpered low in his throat and Logan sucked gently, sliding in a second finger. Scott closed his lips over the moan.

Logan's mouth paved a wet path up to Scott's mouth. He licked at Scott's lips and they parted, allowing him access. He sealed his mouth over the soft lips, swallowing the protesting sounds as his fingers left their task.

"All fours," Logan commanded in a husky whisper. Scott nodded and rearranged himself. Logan stroked the pleasingly presented ass. He licked the small furrow that marked the end of Scott's spine, smiling at the eight ball tattoo there.

"Logan, please." Logan teased the loosening muscle awhile longer. "God damn mother-fucking tease," Scott hissed.

"Yer so sweet," Logan laughed, his cock begging to get into what he regarded as *his* spot. He greased his throbbing erection and pushed in. Scott moved back to meet him. He sighed in contentment as he was filled. "Damn yer hot."

Logan closed his eyes and filled his other senses. The ribs were hard, the skin soft, the scars somewhere in between as he stroked Scott's sides. Scott's ass was firm muscle, his rectum hot and tight. He smelled of beer and apples and cinnamon and musk. He was whimpering and moaning softly ad constantly as Logan set the pace. Scott's heart was pounding faster than usual. The lingering scent of Jean's perfume still clung to his skin.

Logan pounded into the younger man, and Scott moved back to meet each thrust. "Harder," Scott whispered, trying not to draw the attention of the people that drifted out of Harry's. Logan's pace sped up as he neared completion. He shot deep into Scott's ass as he scented sweat and lust. Scott's hips continued to move. Logan hardened again under the continued friction. He settled a hand around Scott's cock and Scott couldn't restrain a low moan.

"I wanna feel ya jerk off fer me," Logan growled. He wrapped his other arm around Scott's waist to offer support. Scott's hand joined Logan's on his cock and guided it in varying strokes. After a few strokes, Logan's hips started to move in concert with the rhythm. Scott's jaw clenched to keep himself quiet as Logan's hand changed position so Logan was controlling the strokes now. Scott came under Logan's direction, body arching back, eyes closed. He felt Logan pulsing deep inside of him. He smiled, sated, for the moment. He let Logan cuddle him close until the body bliss wore off. "Always meant to ask, why'd ya get the tattoo?"

"Lost a bet."

"Lost a bet?"

"With a pool shark."



"Yer shittin' me."

"Nope. I'm stealing your shirt."

"Sure," Logan said, happily nuzzling along Scott's throat.

"We should get home."


"Because if we scream in the woods, no one's gonna come running."

Logan laughed.

The End