0 comments/ 33223 views/ 2 favorites X-Love Ch. 01 By: Tony Ryan X-Men belongs to Marvel Comics. The movies belongs to Marvel and 20th Century Fox. James Marsden and Hugh Jackman, the gorgeus and talented men who play Cyclops and Wolverine, do not belong to me (I WISH!!) and this is not a suggestion of their sexual preferences. This is just fiction, a story based on the film and the incredible chemistry between the two men. Don't read if you aren't over 18, practice safe sex, etc. -- Flames and fire. Not water, fire. Logan woke up drenched in sweat, as he had so many nights before. At least he'd stopped screaming out Jean's name...that was progress, huh. A few months had passed since Jean Grey's death, but Logan saw her face, felt her calling to him, every night. They had never been lovers, not even close, but his bed still felt more empty than he could ever imagined. He stood up, his flawless body shimmering from perspiration, the hair sticking to his chest and legs and belly. He threw on a pair of jeans, finding his way to the kitchen, his keen sense of vision unencumbered by the darkness. He had a private stash of beer which Professor X had let him keep since Jean...since Jean was gone; Logan really needed that bottle tonight. Apparently he wasn't the only one. "Sorry, Wolverine. I'll replace it." Logan grimaced at the sight before him. Cyclops, otherwise known as Scott Summers, had finished off one of his long-necked brews and was a third of the way through another. Logan considered getting into a fight, drawing blood, craving that emotional release for his anger and pain. But instead of hate, he was transfixed by Scott's chiseled upper torso, his erect nipples in the chill of the fridge, the muscled, ample rear end jutting from those snug pajama bottoms. Scott did not notice his ogling, as he was too busy with his liquid comfort. "S'no problem, Scott. Only problem I have is that I thought the raciest you got was putting three scoops instead of two on your banana splits." Scott matched Logan's weary smirk with one of his own before downing more of the alcohol. Logan licked his lips as that swanlike, surprisingly delicate throat let the nectar course downwards, Scott's Adam's Apple throbbing from the burning aftertaste. "That's real funny. Since when do you call me Scott? It's not like we're best friends." Logan could swear that Scott sensed the heat rising from inside him as he made his way over. If Scott did, he wasn't talking, but he did let his eyes dart down when Logan brushed his fingertips, gently stealing the bottle from him. "I don't wanna be your best friend, or your enemy. We're grown men, Scott. Time to act that way. We got real names and we should use them. We know about pain, know about loss, and God help me, never thought I'd say it, but...I feel a connection between us." Scott normally counted on his ruby quartz glasses to hide his most primal emotions. Fear, hate, lust. Love. He knew that this time, nothing could mask what was swirling inside him. Why were his fingtertips still burning from Logan's touch? Why did the intensity in Logan's stare seem to pierce all his defenses? He decided to change the subject, and since his eyes were glued to the matted and swelling pectorals in front of him, they were the natural topic. "You sleep in jeans?" Logan chuckled while he finished off Scott's beer. "I sleep naked, but with all the kids here, showing my hairy ass at 3 in the morning isn't gonna work." While he squirmed under Logan's gaze, Scott tried to joke along, but every word died before he opened his mouth. For a few moments, no words were spoken, as both men were almost afraid to break the tension in the air. After years of being rivals, the third in their triangle was gone. Yet, the chemistry remained, had mutated into a new form. Logan was entranced by this astonishingly beautiful young man before him; Scott was confused and stunned by his attraction to the grizzled, rugged hunk in front of him. Logan finally broke the tension as he reached out to caress Scott's face. His soft skin sizzled under Logan's callused fingers. Scott moved closer into the grasp of that hand, at the human contact he had missed so much. "I dream about her every night, Wol...Logan. But, I-I, I dream about you too." Wolverine stepped closer, leaving no room between their muscled, straining bodies. He tugged off Scott's glasses. When Scott began to cry out, he was silenced by a thick, stern finger thumping his lips. "Just trust me. Give in to me. Please." Scott nodded, slowly, with uncertainty. Logan's thumb was rough yet smooth against his eyelids. The thumb glided down his perfect nose and angelic face, between his pouty lips. Scott sucked in the fat digit, tenderly biting down. Logan moaned, imagining his big thick cock between those soft lips. "You're so beautiful. Fuck, I never realized..." While Logan put his glasses back on, Scott reached out to feel Logan's sculpted chest. He tugged on the sexy dark fur, losing himself in the sensations of skin on skin. Their faces were inches apart, breath reeking of summer longing and cheap beer. Scott wanted this kiss, he'd wanted it from the first day he'd met Logan, somewhere deep down. Then he remembered. Jean. The love of his life. Jean. "NO!" Before Logan could stop him, Scott fled the room. Logan felt even more devastated than he'd imagined. He threw the empty bottles against the kitchen floor tile, sinking to his knees in despair. Another night alone. Scott sank into his mattress, blinking back the bitter tears. He knew he would dream of Logan again. It would take every ounce of self-control to not make those dreams a reality. X-Love Ch. 02 The shower spray was warm, close to scalding. Logan considered turning to a cooler temperature, but the boy wasn't complaining. Neither was he, as the higher temperature helped steam the room up, cloud up their thoughts and inhibitions. Logan mewled in a husky murmur as he pawed the chiseled, smooth body in front of him. This wasn't a boy by any means. Scott was a grown, strong, very willing man. So willing that his supple butt cheeks were practically grinding against Logan's drooling hose and wild forest of pubic hair. Logan leaned his head back against the slick shower wall, breathing in the sights and scents. He ran his meat up and down Scott's quivering hole, to tease, but also to make sure Scott knew what he was getting into. "FUCK ME!!!" Yep, Scott definitely knew. And yet, Logan was having an uncharacteristic display of compassion. "You sure?" He liked the anonymity of men, the hardness of their bodies pushed against his, their willingness to forget they were anything but cavities needing a temporary filling. But Scott was more than just a cheap bathroom stall fuck, and he was in serious emotional pain. "Don't make me beg," Scott whispered. As Logan tried to figure out the rationale of the man who had been desperately avoiding him only hours earlier, Scott kicked his legs apart, his hands pressed against the wall, head bent down, voice drowned out by the flow of the water. He was a willing captive, waiting to be punished by Logan's flesh nightstick. Reaching for the shampoo, Logan squirted a large amount in one hand as his other stroked the back of Scott's head. As he began to open Scott up with a cautious finger, then two, he simultaneously reached around to pay attention to the flaccid shaft. "Been a while, huh?" Scott grunted as Logan entered a third finger in his tight hole. Easing his goopy fingers out, Logan coated his aching organ in the soapy lube. He wanted to pound deep into this work of art, but still took it slow. Sliding an inch in at a time, he massaged Scott's back, carressed his pecs, toyed with his nipples, slid down to his belly button and poked deep inside, finger-fucking the small navel in time with his tentative thrusts into the warm, gooey glove enveloping his manhood. "Harder," Scott gasped, his hands still against the wall. Building at his own pace, Logan slid out of Scott's chute, jabbing back in, pushing into the innermost reaches of Scott's anal cavern. "Fuck, you've got a hot ass." Logan growled out the compliment, slamming in deeper with each word. "And it's alllll mine." On a whim, he tugged off Scott's visor. "What are you doing?" Logan timed his words with his pelvic movements. "Makin' it more interesting. Keep your eyes shut. Keep focused." Scott concentrated on keeping them closed, he cursed at his sex partner, but he also began to push back, taking in more and more of the hot flesh which was ravaging him. Their bodies joined in sweat, steam and sex, and their grief, their pain, seemed to be shared. They now understood each other, body and soul. As Logan began his final thrusts, the narrow shower echoing with gooey slaps and guttural cries, he bent down to kiss and bite Scott's ear. "I'm here with you Scott. Never...FUCK...gonna be alone. Never. Mine. This ass...all of ya...is mine now. OOHHHHHHHHFUUUCKKKK....." Scott choked back his tears as he felt his insides flooded with man-cream, as his neck was singed by a sharp fang bite. He was convinced his blood was being drained, that his pain was being brought to an end. Logan's teeth dug deeper, then licked and cleaned the wound. Logan pulled out with a loud plop. Before Scott could notice the empty throb in his ass, Logan spun him around, licking and devouring his fleshy, swollen knob. Scott had almost forgot about his own erection, but Logan sucked him deep. Scott groaned, his knees buckling. His eyelids fluttered. Yanking Logan's thick, wavy brown hair, he urged him to finish up. "I c-can't keep my eyes closed much longer, Logan. Can't control..." His words were cut off by a hearty cry of shock and pleasure. Logan had pushed four fingers, nearly the whole damn hand, up his sore backside. Eyes flashing open briefly, he couldn't stop himself from shooting a beam directly at the shower wall in front of him. His spasming penis shot load after load into Logan's mouth as he clamped his eyes shut again. Tenderly, Logan cleaned the spent shaft. When he finally stood up and saw the damage, he nearly doubled over in laughter. "I thought I felt something on my back. Geez, I really need to watch my back 'round you. Maybe you can watch it for me, huh?" Scott was about to apologize, or protest at his own lack of self-control, but Logan interrupted him with a brief, soft kiss. He placed the ruby quartz visor back on Scott's flushed face. "Let's get outta here." Scott reached over to turn the shower and spigot off. "Logan, I don't know what's happening to me lately. I want to be by myself, anywhere but the same old pitying looks and clichés. Then when I am alone...I can't take it. I want to kill myself. I want to see Jean again. Now I've used you; I thought it would make me feel better." Handing Scott a towel, Logan fixed him with a commanding glare. "Nobody uses me, bub. I knew what you needed. Sex ain't a cure, just a band-aid. I wanted it, needed it just as much as you did. Can we please stop the talking and the long conversations? Just go to sleep maybe?" Scott's yawn when he handed the towel over was enough of an answer. Blinking behind his visor, he admired the scarlet-tinted view of Logan's soaked, matted chest hair, dripping with sweat and water, drops of perspiration sliding down to his flaccid, slimy shaft. "I think I'd like that." They gathered their clothes, put them on with weary, well-used muscles, and walked to their separate rooms. Logan found himself wanting to sleep together, wanting to feel Scott in his arms, but he didn't want to push. Little did he realize Scott was beginning to think the exact same thing.