Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2031555.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      X-Men:_Days_of_Future_Past_(2014)_-_Fandom, X-Men_(Movieverse)
  Relationship:
      Logan/Pietro_Maximoff
  Character:
      Logan_(X-Men), Pietro_Maximoff, Charles_Xavier, Hank_McCoy
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, well_sorta, Rough_Sex, Bondage, Hair-pulling
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-27 Chapters: 2/3 Words: 4473
****** Catching Bullets ******
by Mirradin
Summary
     In which Peter is kind of a jerk and kind of adorable, and Logan
     finds the combination very, very tempting. Written for a prompt on
     the kink meme.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** It's an inkling to begin with *****
The most important realisation Logan made about Peter Maximoff took him a
couple of minutes to work out, which was that -- he wasn't Quicksilver.

In retrospect, it should have been obvious. Charles wasn't -- wasn't even
anywhere close to being -- the Professor Logan knew from 2023. Hell, he wasn't
even close to the Professor Logan had met (or was scheduled to meet, and didn't
that make him feel weird) a few decades from now. Hank, well, he was closer
than Charles to what he would become, but the confidence and wisdom of the
Beast Logan had seen buried wasn't there yet. And Mystique, according to both
the men who'd sent him back, was a long way from the cold-hearted killer Logan
had first met on a chilly night in the Statue of Liberty. Why should Maximoff
be any different?

Still, it was unsettling, the realisation that this smooth-faced young man
wasn't the Quicksilver he knew and had screwed on occasion. Unsettling, in the
same way that it unsettled him to see Charles and Hank, so like themselves and
so completely different. It wasn't jarring enough to throw him off step or make
him forget the mission, but it was just another little piece of uncertainty
that he could have done without. Logan squashed it down.

Then he looked around the basement, at the boxes of snacks and the brand-new
television, and wondered if this kid had ever, ever had to deal with the life-
threatening situations that his older self had taken for granted.

He looked back at Peter, playing Pong with himself at warp speed, still young
enough to revel in his powers, and wondered, briefly, if this was even worth
trying.

Thing was -- the kid wasn't Quicksilver, but he wasn't not him either. Rifling
through people's wallets and registrations must've been a habit he'd picked up
early, though the Quicksilver Logan knew had done it with a kind of cynical
suspicion. Peter, by contrast, just seemed...curious. Strip away the mocking
humour, the cynicism, and the careless arrogance that came from forty years of
outrunning bullets...and Logan could see that older guy in Peter's face.

It was damned weird.

It was what he was going to have to work with.

So he did.

***

The drive up to the Pentagon was just weird. Partly that was because all of
these people were so damned young and planning the break-in with them was
awkward. Partly it was because Peter was in high spirits, talking a mile a
minute with obvious enthusiasm and using his super-speed to grab pens out of
other peoples' hands, and obviously so damned young.

That wasn't the weird part.

The weird part? Was that all that relentless good cheer -- the kind that
usually drove him up the wall -- just made the kid seem cute.

Logan's world did not allow for a version of Quicksilver that was cute. The guy
was hard, wary, and yeah, he had a sense of humour, but he was also a jackass
and Logan had never once forgotten that he was dangerous.

Peter...made it easy to forget.

All in all, Logan was going to be glad when they had Magneto on the plane and
the kid was safely out of the picture once again.
***** And comes together *****
Someone knocked at the door.

Logan looked up from the planning (such as it was, mostly consisting of 'get to
Washington and then hopefully identify Mystique before all Hell breaks loose')
and quirked an eyebrow at Charles, then at Hank. "You guys expecting company?"

"No," Hank said, frowning. "I mean, the deliveries aren't until tomorrow, and
the --"

"It's Peter," Charles interrupted, dropping his hand to the table with
excessive force. A mug jumped and went onto the floor. Logan was glad he wasn't
in charge of cleaning this place up, though -- he snuck a quick look around -
- whoever was in charge of that would have their work cut out for them anyway.

Then, "Wait, what?"

"Peter," Charles repeated. He leaned back and gave Logan a wry look. "Your
hyperactive criminal friend appears to have followed us home. Do try to
convince him to go away, will you?"

"That little bastard," Logan murmured in bemusement. How the hell had Peter
even -- right, Peter, stupid question. He'd probably nicked Xavier's card again
at some point. But why was he here? It wasn't like they'd forgotten to pay him
or something.

"Uh," Hank said hesitantly, "maybe we could get him to come with us? You know,
if he's interested and all --"

"No."

That was delivered in what Logan had always privately thought of as Xavier's
headmaster voice. It wasn't harsh. It wasn't angry. It wasn't flexible, either.
It was firm in the same way a mountain was firm, and clearly said that, while
prior discussion may have been interesting, this was the law and it was going
to stand.

Maybe Hank read the memo yet, or maybe years of living with Charles in an
addled haze had given him resistance to it. He winced, but squared his
shoulders and met Charles's gaze steadily enough. "You told me what he did at
the Pentagon. If he was -- he could grab Raven the second you spotted her. He
could stop this whole thing faster than the rest of us could blink."

"He's a child," Charles replied adamantly. "No, Hank. I won't drag anyone else
into this mess, especially not someone his age."

Logan thought absently of the future, when kids who'd only just manifested were
hauled into resistance because that was their only option for survival. Hell -
- some of Xavier's own students had been Maximoff's age when that mess with the
Brotherhood was going strong, and they'd fought. But then, Charles wasn't the
Professor, and Peter was...a lot more innocent than a lot of Charles's students
had been, in some ways. And, in the end, it was Charles's call to make.

"I'll find out what he's after," he replied, rising from the table. "You going
to turn in, or do you think spending a few more hours on that skeleton you've
got there is going to turn it into a real plan?"

Hank gave him the fish eye. Charles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
The knocking came again, faster this time, as he made his way up the stairs.
And then again. And then again, like a woodpecker was drilling on the door and
if the damned kid didn't let up, after the kind of day Logan had been having -
- and come to that the last five years he'd had before Kitty dropped him into
the past -- Logan might just tear his head off if it would make him shut up.

He yanked the door open and growled, "What the hell do you think you're doing
here?"

Peter had ditched the jacket. The goggles were pushed up on his forehead,
looking like they'd picked up a few more dings and dents in the scant hours
since they'd parted, and the loose sweatpants and shirt the kid was wearing now
were dusty. Automatically, Logan sniffed, and got -- dust, sweat, car exhaust,
dead leaves. He squinted at the courtyard, which was empty, and back to Peter.

Who folded his arms, and said, "So, you guys were at the Paris gig, huh?"

"What do you care?" Logan asked, frowning. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"I ran." The 'duh' might as well have been said out loud. Peter unfolded his
arms and

-- fwip --

-- "Are you Communists or something?" Peter's voice came from behind him this
time. Logan turned around to find the teenager picking over the scattered items
on the hall table, including -- Logan felt a wrench in his gut -- a photo of
what must have been Xavier's first lot of students. Well, it was a photo of
half a dozen people standing in front of the Mansion, most of them looking
uncomfortably dressed-up, anyway. Logan didn't think he knew any of them, but
that didn't mean anything. "Because I saw the Paris Peace Conference, it was
all over the news. Who's the blue woman?"

"None of your damn business," Logan growled, stomping towards him and reaching
out a hand for the photograph. Peter dropped it with a clatter and fwip was
standing on the other side of the hall.

That would never have stopped Quicksilver, and apparently Peter, despite
lacking thirty-odd years of accumulated contrariness, had that in common with
his older counterpart. "Are you trying to keep the war going or something? Is
that why you wanted me to break that metal guy out of prison?"

"What -- no. Will you cut that out?"

Peter dropped the pen he'd been fiddling with and zipped to Logan's side,
staring up at him intently. "What are you up to? C'mon, tell me." Logan grabbed
for the kid's arm, and Peter dodged nimbly. "Who are you? C'mon, man -"

"None of your business," Logan growled, less forcefully than he'd have liked.
Damn it, how could the kid manage to make obnoxious look so damn cute? Because
it grated -- Peter was jumping all over every one of his frayed nerves -- but
the boy was fresh-faced and younger than he had any right to be, and there was
no hint of danger about him at all, just curiosity and maybe a little
nervousness. And that was --

"Get out," he said flatly.

"Why would I want to do that?" Peter gave him one of those looks again -- cocky
and amused and so damn different on his young face -- and Logan stomped on the
urge to get violent. Calm. This kid was annoying as hell but he wasn't a
threat. (Not like Magneto was, and how could they have read that so wrong --
? Not the point.) It didn't help, not at all, that Quicksilver had given Logan
more or less that exact same look a few times in the future, usually followed
by the two of them doing intense, sweaty, mutually enjoyable things up against
a wall somewhere.

"Peter, this isn't a game. Get out."

Peter pursed his lips, and suddenly he was right there. "What're you -- ah!"

"So that's how to shut you up?" Logan murmured to himself. He tightened his
fingers in Peter's silver hair. "Good to know."
Peter managed a choked protest that cut off with a hiss when Logan casually
gripped harder and pulled, wrenching Peter's head back. The boy had his eyes
squeezed shut against the pain and his teeth sunk into his lower lip, and
dammit, even that made a little thrill go through Logan's belly. Peter looked
far too vulnerable and yielding for what Logan was doing to him, when
Quicksilver would have been spitting tacks. Logan figured it must have been a
while, if ever, since anyone had been able to push this kid around, and tugged
a little harder to make his point before relaxing his hold a little. Peter's
eyes fluttered open, blinking back tears.

"Listen to me, kid," Logan told him in a low, steady growl. He was close enough
that Peter must have been able to feel his breath on his face; the kid
shivered. "What we're doing, it's dangerous. Could be even more dangerous for
us once we're done. And if you get involved, there could be people looking at
you, after. I don't think you want that. So you're going to go home, and you're
going to stay out of our way. Clear?"

He wrapped his left hand around Peter's upper arm, just to be sure, and without
waiting for an answer began steering the boy back towards the front door. Peter
stumbled, not expecting the push, and the sudden loss of balance made him fall
back, his youthful body leaning all-too-briefly against Logan's older, heavier
one. For a moment that sang like a shockwave, Logan had Peter's head all but
tucked under his chin, with Peter's slim frame startlingly evident through
their clothes, and it felt better than it had any right to.

He wanted -- oh, he wanted -- to have this kid. He wondered, in a crazy
instant, what it would be like to have this Quicksilver under him and naked.
Head tipped back in lust -- Logan wanted, suddenly, to leave bruises all the
way up Peter's throat: Property of Wolverine.

Peter caught his balance again, obediently following Logan's steering. His face
was tipped up in response to Logan's grip on his hair, and his expression was
still tight with what had to be pain, but apparently that wasn't enough to keep
him from saying, albeit with clear effort, "What if I don't want to stay out of
your way?"

Logan should have thought of Magneto, and what that guy had been willing to do
to Mystique, someone who'd done a lot more for him than a prison break, just
because a human could weaponize her powers -- and what could happen to Peter,
cocky and inexperienced, caught up in the middle of that. But instead, what
came into his mind was an abrupt, vivid fantasy -- Peter, on his knees for
Logan, his smooth, unscarred neck and shoulders bitten hard enough to draw
blood, crying out into a pillow while Logan pounded into his ass.

He shook his head to get the fantasy out and hurried his steps towards the
door, towing Peter with him. "Trust me, Peter, you don't want to know what I'd
do to you."

Peter tipped his head further back, displaying a shocking length of smooth,
soft throat to go with his child-soft features, and actually offered Logan a
pain-edged smirk. "Pretty sure I'm not scared of what you'd do."

And that, that was it. Logan stopped dead, less than a yard from the still-open
door, and kept Peter upright when he stumbled with the bruising grip he had on
the kid's arm. "Really?" he growled. "How about this?" And before Peter could
say anything, he yanked on his hair to force his face up and then kissed him
hard.
It was nothing -- at all -- like kissing Quicksilver.

Peter's mouth opened, more from the surprise that Logan could sense all through
him than anything else, and Logan immediately deepened the kiss, licking into
Peter's mouth and chasing his tongue. Peter wasn't trying to kiss back -
- wasn't reacting at all, come to that -- but he hadn't blurred into bullet-
speed and he wasn't trying to turn his head away, either. For now, Logan was
going to take that as permission. He explored the inside of Peter's mouth
roughly, working around the boy's unresponsive tongue, and finally pulled back
to catch the kid's lip between his teeth hard enough to make a point.

That's enough, he told himself. Any more than that, and he wouldn't be able to
stop himself. It was already a struggle not to just push Peter down and tear
his clothes off, see what his younger body looked like.

Peter looked up at him through shocked, wide eyes. His mouth was still open,
lower lip scarlet and swelling from Logan's teeth. Logan restrained the urge to
kiss him again, and stomped down the thought of shoving Peter to his knees and
bruising up his mouth in a far more entertaining way. Peter had got the
message, and he wasn't yet Quicksilver, to respond with a challenge. He was too
young and out of his depth. He was going to yield in a moment, and then Logan
was going to push him out the door and Peter was going to go home and Logan was
going to jack off.

The silence stretched out between them like time had frozen.

Peter's lip twitched into something approaching a smirk, without his usual
confidence behind it. "Was..." He took a rapid breath and then finished, "Was
that supposed to scare me?"

Logan stared at him, shocked, and then it clicked together -- a dozen little
things: The tilt of Peter's head into Logan's hold on his hair, the quirk of
his lip, the rapid jump of his pulse against Logan's knuckles, the mingled
excitement and nervousness that surrounded the younger mutant in a cloud he
could practically smell...

Shock gave way to lust with a violent crash.

Logan stopped pulling Peter's head back and used that hold instead to yank him
up until he was wobbling on his toes as he pressed their mouths together. He
didn't waste any time keeping it shallow, and this time Peter responded. His
tongue moved against Logan's, hesitantly and awkwardly but moving nonetheless.
Logan licked deeper in, and Peter tried to respond, his tongue meeting Logan's
and then sliding away -- sheesh, had anyone kissed this kid before? Logan was
beginning to doubt it, because even granted that he was probably twice the size
and ten times the age of anyone Peter might have been inclined to kiss before,
Peter seemed to have no idea what he was doing, how to respond, what to do with
his tongue or even his lips. He smelled like Quicksilver, but without
Quicksilver's control and swift, demanding tongue. He kissed like a fumbling
first-timer, and that should not have been such a jolt to Logan's groin, but it
was.

His. Peter -- inexperienced, fumbling, utterly unaware of what the human or
not-so-human body could do -- was his for the taking, his to mark, his to say
this is what you do to. There was no challenge here, not with Peter off-balance
and reeling under Logan's mouth; just sweet, soft youth and submission.

Well. The submission was probably a tall order -- even at however-damned-old
the boy actually was, which Logan probably ought to be more aware of, it was
clear that sweetly giving way was not his thing -- but it was for sure that
Logan had a better run at getting it now than he ever had with Quicksilver, and
he'd take what he could get.
He tore his mouth away from Peter's to nip at the line of the boy's jaw. Peter
twitched, his breathing coming harsh and ragged, held in place by Logan's hands
on his arm and hair. Logan swept his tongue out for a second, tasting -- sweat,
youth, the air outside -- and then bit down on Peter's lip again, drawing a
breathy yelp.

He took his hand away from Peter's arm and grabbed the top of his shoulder
instead. The teenager was swaying on his feet, dazed from the kiss; one
quick,solid push was all it took to drive him to his knees. Peter made a
startled noise as his knees thumped into the dusty hardwood, looking up at
Logan with his dark eyes wide and his mouth swollen and red, open to let him
gasp for air. Logan could see a trace of spit shining on his lower lip, and if
he'd ever planned on patience, that was enough to shatter that plan into
pieces.

He twisted his fist tighter in Peter's hair, holding the boy's head in place
while he unbuckled his belt and yanked down the zip of his jeans. No underwear
-- he'd run out of clean boxers, and even he drew the line at wearing the same
pair three days running -- and as soon as he popped the button his cock came
free. Peter's breath hitched, and Logan couldn't tell if it was fear or
arousal. Either way, it had Peter staring at his cock like he'd never seen one
before. Which was fair enough. Logan was pretty ahead of the bell curve, in
that department, and Peter couldn't have encountered many to compare with.

"Open your mouth," he said quietly, and Peter glanced up at him from under
messy silver bangs and then opened his mouth wider, looking hesitant about it,
like he wasn't sure how wide it needed to be. "Wider," Logan instructed, and
dragged the boy's head forwards, shoving his face down onto his cock.

Peter made another sound when Logan's cock forced past his lips -- muffled, and
there was maybe shock in there but nothing like a real protest -- and Logan
pushed him down a bit further, just because he could. One of Peter's teeth
scraped unpleasantly against Logan's cock. One of the perils of doing this with
a virgin, just like the complete lack of proper suction, and it didn't really
hurt -- Logan being what he was -- which didn't stop him from hissing. "Not
like that -- lips over your teeth." He let up the pressure on Peter's head for
a moment, mindful that the kid was in no way ready to try deep-throating him,
and let Peter get his mouth sorted out. "Now suck --" Peter obliged, tentative
at first but quickly getting bolder. His tongue fluttered -- far too lightly -
- over the shaft in his mouth, more exploratory than deliberate. That was fine,
Logan could teach him what to do with it later. For now --

He rocked his hips experimentally, and Peter spluttered, hands coming up to bat
ineffectually at Logan's legs. Logan relented and tugged the kid's head back
up, letting him cough for a moment. Not long enough to protest; he didn't want
to hear Peter's voice right now. He allowed the kid a couple of seconds to get
his breath back, and then he yanked him back down, pushing that warm wetness
back over his cock. This time Peter was faster about it, licking over the slit
before Logan pushed further in, and his mouth closed around the shaft without a
hint of teeth.

Without a hint of skill, either, and Logan took a moment to examine the boy
kneeling in front of him. Peter made a pretty picture, no mistake there, but
there was a world of difference -- a whole, literal world -- between his
curious, clumsy sucking and the number of tricks Quicksilver had been able to
do with his mouth. Quicksilver had had a lot of practice. Peter hadn't had any.
Logan was the first, and the power rush from that was enough to make him want
to come in Peter's mouth, give him his first taste of it.
And...why not?

Logan eased up a little, guiding Peter's mouth along his cock without wrenching
him back and forth, rocked into the warmth and wetness as hard as he could
without choking the boy, and Peter sucked harder and licked more and more
eagerly, only throwing his head back against Logan's hand when he needed to
gasp for breath and then nearly diving back on Logan's cock. His hands rested
lightly on Logan's thighs, steadying him rather than pushing. Logan could smell
the excitement rolling off Peter now, and he sure as hell noticed it when
Peter's hips gave a little roll. Couldn't have that. He picked up the pace,
grinding harder and faster into that swollen mouth, and came with a growl.

Peter choked, swallowing convulsively and batting at Logan's hips. Logan let go
of his hair, allowing Peter to pull back off his cock, to cough and spit out
come while the last few spurts of it splashed across his lips and cheeks. Logan
huffed in amusement at the mingled surprise and indignation on Peter's face,
and then, finally, untangled his hand from the kid's hair, rubbing his scalp
gently before drawing his hand away.

It left Peter still on his knees, hair messy from Logan gripping it,
indignation gathering on his young face under his new mask of come, breathing
raggedly through cock-bruised lips, and...Logan took a step back, and from this
angle, even through his clothing, Peter was thoroughly, obviously hard.

Peter broke the moment first, swiping a hand over the mess on his face. "Dude,
that's disgusting."

"You weren't that good at swallowing." Peter's hand, resting on his knee, began
to slide up his thigh, and Logan took a step forward. "Don't touch."

Peter's hand stilled, and there was another trace of Quicksilver as he raised
his eyebrows and said, "Or what? You already got off." He held up his hand,
with Logan's come smeared on the sleeve of his jacket. "Or didn't you notice?"

Cocky kid. Logan took another small step, this one bringing him right up to
loom over the kid, and noticed the little hitch in Peter's breathing with an
inward smirk. "Did you think we were done?" His hand flashed out and locked on
the shoulder of Peter's jacket (he knew damn well that he only managed that
because this, between them, had Peter too caught up to zip away before Logan
caught him, and made a mental note not to let go again until they were
finished), and hauled the boy back to his feet. Peter stumbled, and Logan
pulled him close. "Not by a long shot, kid," he whispered, close enough that
his breath washed over Peter's face.

Peter closed his eyes with a shudder and another wave of want/anxiety, heady in
Logan's nose. Logan gave in and bowed his head to mouth at the side of Peter's
neck, scraping his teeth over the thin skin there to little shivers from his
captive. He found the pulse point and nipped over it, worrying the skin there
until the taste of copper came to the surface.

Then he bit down, hard, on the hard muscle over the kid's shoulder.
Peter let out a cry, twisting away from him. Logan grabbed his arm again and
held him in place, sucking hard, and then drew away to admire the darkening
bruise.

Peter's voice was unsteady but, unbelievably, still cocky. "Is this the part
where you rip my throat out? 'Cause that would not be my idea of a good time."

"No, this is the part where I give you so many bruises that everyone who looks
at you knows what I did." Logan backed up his words by biting, more gently, at
the front of Peter's throat. Careful, here; he didn't want to hurt the kid.
Just mark him up a little...okay, a lot.

"Won't work." Despite it all, Peter sounded more than a little smug. "I heal
too quick. They'll be gone by the time I get home."

Logan actually growled, and Peter flinched, the instinctive reaction to a
predator grumbling under one's ear. "And up until then -- everyone knows. And
you won't be forgetting any time soon."

"Is that a promise?" Peter arched away from a nip to the tender flesh under his
jaw, air hissing out between his teeth. There was that thread of fear again,
underlying his confident tone. Logan decided to ignore it.

"You bet your ass it is." Logan sucked another bruise into Peter's throat and
straightened up. "Come on."

He half-steered, half-manhandled Peter down the hall, shoving the door to the
sitting room open with a shoulder and kicking it shut behind him. More
comfortable this way -- plus, less chance that Charles or Hank or the damned
mailman would interrupt. That was important. Logan had been given the first
crack at this world's Peter Maximoff. He intended to make the most of it.
End Notes
     Prompt on the X-Men First Class kink meme: "I just want Logan pinning
     down Peter and fucking him on the floor. It could be due to
     unresolved sexual tension between Logan and Quicksilver in the
     future, the fact that young Peter is so quirky and adorable that he
     just can't help himself, or because Peter is a hormonal little shit
     and comes on to him. Rough sex is the best.
     Bonus points if Logan ties Peter down so that he can't get away.
     (Either consensual, dub-con, or Non-con reasons is fine.)
     You will get my first child if it is mentioned that Erik gouged Logan
     and tried to drown because he finds out that he slept with his
     underage son. "
     (http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/
     11912.html?thread=23032968#t23032968)
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