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Bare feet scuffed on aged hardwood as the whispering flutter of playing cards in deft hands interrupted the murmur of late night television shows seeping through the floorboards. With the hush of traffic a few blocks away and the smell of cereus flowers drifting in through the open window, things were a little too peaceful for Logan. Even Wraith had filled the silence with the throbbing stink of his unease.
Remy appeared at the door again, shoulder propped on the jamb. "Can't make time speed any faster. Not with that attitude."
Logan's skin prickled, all the hairs on his arms standing full on end to ripple like wheat in the breeze. The kid's fear-scent was gone like it had never existed. Back in the alley it'd poured off him thick as syrup, but now that Remy had gotten it in his head to work with Logan, seemed like he went with the flow, any leftover restlessness poured into the sporadic shuffling of cards. As pretty as the night-blooming flowers and all simmered down, Remy and his composure sat like a small, sharp-edged rock in Logan's boot. He'd rather be subjected to any number of smells than the pheromone-laden lust that peeled off the slim-hipped grifter as lazy as the bend of his lashes.
Folding his arms more snugly across his chest, Logan sank deeper into the cushions of the ugliest wicker loveseat in all of Louisiana. "So keep quiet and let me catch a few winks."
"Man like you won't be sleeping in the fox's den." Remy slanted a knowing smirk. His red eyes glowed in the shadows like the last coals in a cooling firepit.
"Won't get any peace, either." Logan had been holed up with worse chatterboxes than Remy. Most of them weren't much different from the outside on in—loudmouth scrappers that blustered and swaggered with the best but couldn’t hold their own when the shit got real. Logan admitted that Remy had a bit of true grit in him—the kid didn't just tuck tail and run the first chance he got, but Logan wouldn't put it past him to think he could get Logan's guard down and pull something sly. Logan's lip twitched towards a snarl. Kid was dead on. He wasn’t gonna sleep a lick.
Remy pushed off the door, padding into the room, footfalls deliberately heavy enough to make noise. He tossed the set of cards he'd been fooling with onto the coffee table Logan had claimed as a footrest. "So how’s about we make the time passing more enjoyable?"
Logan didn’t miss the fresh wave of lust any more than the single card still tucked into Remy's palm, the curl of laminate favored by him as much as some men loved a particular model of gun. "You suggesting strip poker?" Logan snorted. "Something tells me you especially cheat at that."
"Remy LeBeau never cheats at cards." The ace of spades disappeared; up his sleeve or squirreled away somewhere else on his scrawny body. Remy shifted his weight and wore a wicked expression like he had telepathy in his bag of tricks as he said, "Besides, I didn't think you needed the foreplay."
In a heartbeat Logan found himself with a lapful of slinky Cajun. "Hey, whoa, hold up a second," he said, his foot slipping off the table. The heel of his boot struck hard on the floor, spurring Remy's downstairs neighbor to hurl some nasty words their way over the drone of her television set.
Remy's thighs draped over his, the kid's long legs folding at the knee to take up every inch of space on the cushions Logan hadn't claimed. The wicker creaked beneath their combined weight. "Don't think I will. Remy don’t care to sit around for hours while his houseguest scowls and stinks up the place with cigar smoke."
Fumes from spilled bourbon and countless cloves permeated near every surface and Logan knew it was no real complaint, not with the way the kid leaned in and got a taste of the cigar straight off his breath. "You sure you want to take the risk I'm not just gonna punch you full of holes?"
"You hunt me down, you're knowing I live for games of chance."
"You mean statistics."
"Poker's more than knowing the odds." Remy shrugged, his arms settling over Logan's shoulders. He arranged himself into a comfortable sprawl, the heat of his groin poised close enough to Logan's that there was no ignoring it. "But odds are in my favor ‘t seems, mon ami."
There was a choice here and it stung. So much of him was raw and bleeding. Story of his life getting ripped open time and again, and he'd heal, even if he didn't want to. Right now, Logan thought, Remy had answers to all the wrong hurts. From that trim waist that was all muscle to the powerful flex to his thighs—the kid fit nice in his hands. Beyond that, Remy seemed to want for the sake of wanting, and Logan was a warm body close enough to his bedroom to make it convenient.
"You don't know me," Logan reminded him.
"Know you're going to give me what I want by killing all them at the island." Remy's jaw brushed Logan's cheek with the soft scratch of his unshaven face. He whuffed out a soft laugh. "Know you can give me what I want right now, too."
Logan stood. Red pupils dilated, and Remy's left hand clamped down on Logan's bicep at the sudden motion. The missing ace flicked into his right as Logan lifted Remy up and caught the kid by cradling his weight with both hands wide on his perky ass. The card's energy bled into the visible spectrum, burning as intense as a magnesium flare.
"Change your mind, Gumbo?"
Muscles relaxed as he came to realize Logan wasn't intent on dropping him to the floor or tossing him out the window. Remy's head dipped down again as he chuckled. The sound rolled out of him like a purr, but by Logan's tally the cat didn’t have the cream yet. The flare of the card vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared.
Logan could sense the weird electric charge of Remy’s power even after the glow faded from the edge of his vision. It lingered, prickling, not a hell of a lot different from the way the feel of Remy's bare skin affected him. And inches of that skin waited for him, poised teasingly at his fingertips where the smooth span of the kid's lower back peeked out between the waist of his pants and his shirt. Even so, queasiness formed up in Logan's gut. He had an armful of ready and willing, and that was all well and good, but— He exhaled slowly.
"Where you gonna take me, Logan?" Remy's fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of Logan's neck, getting a little too familiar.
A flash of aimless anger burned out the sick churning, left his pulse raging and his blood hot. Hadn’t been the first time he’d devoted himself to a woman and seen her meet the worst kind of end. "Lucky if I don't put you somewhere that'll give me a moment's peace."
”Man like you never knows peace.”
Ain’t that the truth. Why should he deny he wanted what Remy's offering? A few moments of forgetting could always be found in a soft mouth. He was more than a little stirred up by the promises of that smarmy smile and the dragging strokes of the kid's fingers bold as brass like he had a right to take what he wanted. If the thoughts in his pretty skull echoed the greedy claim of his hands, Remy had gotten it the wrong way around. Logan's smile was half a snarl. "You got a bed in this dump or you got a thing for splinters I ought to know about?"
"A smart man always takes silk over splinters." Remy signaled the way with his chin, pointing Logan towards the hall. A curtain of beads hung in a doorway at the far end. Logan snorted and Remy shrugged off the derision. He was probably used to the sentiment.
Logan kicked the coffee table halfway across the room and carried Remy across the flat to its little love nest. Remy's weight shifted with each step, the friction upping the heat between them to the point that Logan's whole damn body throbbed. Remy clung a little harder as he thrust an arm out to part the beads. He ducked down to avoid hitting his head as Logan carried him across the threshold, and it felt so damn good having the kid practically wrapped around him that Logan's tunnel vision almost missed the little black bottle Remy scooped up from the top of a chest of drawers.
"In case you want more than my mouth, hm?" Remy waggled the bottle in front of Logan's face then tossed it a few feet to land on the bed. Logan's gaze jumped to follow, the flash of it quick like a deer through the trees. Every second ticking by brought Logan's blood closer to the boiling point. What he said before rang truer than ever—Remy didn’t know him, not one bit, or the sudden tightening of Logan's grip wouldn't bring an eager hellspark to those devilish eyes.
Logan took a slow breath, and the heartbeat thudding in his ears eased up. "There anything you wanna tell me?" Letting Remy slip down to settle on his feet helped regain another fraction of control, but even while Logan meant to back off and think, damned if he didn’t do the opposite.
"Not looking for any strings more than you are, and I am mighty flexible," Remy said, comfortably staying in the circle of Logan's arms. The words might as well be white noise for how well Logan held on to them. He was too busy holding on to Remy, liking the kid's slender, wiry frame all the more, knowing that all the strength packed in there was nowhere near enough to hold him off.
Logan leaned in—a mirror image of when this started—his mouth drawing close to Remy's ear to where the scent of what he wanted was strongest. Pounding. Blood-thick beneath thin skin.
"Can even play the blushing virgin if that gets your pecker hard." Remy's head tilted back, naked throat offered like a sacrifice. The submissive gesture broke the thin string holding Logan still, and the need to lick the salt from Remy's skin overtook him. His arms slid up Remy's back, caging him in, and he gasped when Logan's tongue hit skin. The long, dragging lick up his jugular ended with the scrape of teeth, and one sensation or the other got him grinding his body against Logan's. "You want it bareback, Logan? Nothing in the way seems your style."
Remy wasn’t playing the tease, not by a long shot, but there was too much useless clothing between them. Logan growled like the kid was holding out on him, and took a handful of Remy's shirt. Buttons popped and skittered over the dark wood of the worn floor. The sharp gust of Remy's breath, pleased somehow, served up slim satisfaction. "Last chance for opinions, kid." Logan didn’t care much for those at the best of times, and with the pale skin of Remy's belly exposed, it was enough that he pushed Remy down onto the bed instead of throwing him there.
Logan went to one knee faster than the flick of Remy's fingers through those cards of his. Prowling up over Remy's body, his face pressed to the soft vulnerability of smooth skin. The way Remy's belly quivered under a threat of teeth ripped a moan out of Logan, and he delivered, biting at Remy's hip hard enough to catch a mouthful of the wing of bone jutting beneath its fragile web of muscle and skin. The bedsprings screamed while Remy only breathed harder.
"Seems like Remy is on his back or on his knees," Remy said, voice ragged. He wriggled up on his elbows, freeing himself of his shirt and moving to undo his pants. At the sound of the zipper, Logan took over, hauling Remy's slacks down and dragging him halfway across the bed to do it. Remy's breath hitched, his knees falling wide, and Logan wasn’t surprised to find the kid went commando. "No complaints to either, cher. But you best slow down, Logan. Point is to make the time pass, not to be done in minutes."
Logan surveyed Remy's body laid out before him. His hands curled into the bedsheets reflexively. It was the way Remy looked up at him that got him to slow down—neck exposed, belly exposed, pinned down, trapped and liking it just fine. "Little early for pet names, don't ya think?"
Remy's mouth twisted into a sly smile and Logan pictured flipping him over and fucking that smile straight into the pillows. Face-to-face meant he'd have Remy's arms clinging to him again, needy and delicious in sheer wantonness. But having him spread out flat on his belly and really trapped, held down under three-hundred pounds of muscle, bone, and metal.... Lust clenched a fist hard and low in Logan's stomach, rippled up in a quiet snarl barely held in check. He leaned up over Remy, weight balancing on one wrist that forced the mattress down beside Remy's head. Logan ran his free hand up Remy's body, and his fingers looked thick and rough against the soft swell of the kid's ribcage. "Just how clever is that mouth of yours?"
"Very. Your lucky day."
"Think that'll slow it down enough for you?"
"Slow enough for me, but you?" Remy shrugged bonelessly and slipped his arms between their bellies to pluck at Logan's pants. He tugged the fly aside and down, metal teeth of the zipper grating open. "We'll see about that."
Remy walked his fingers up the front of Logan's underwear and curled under the band to peel them down. Slow was one thing, but he was headed towards infuriating with the way he savored the moment, breath held like it was double or nothing.
"Oh."
Logan smirked as Remy's eyes widened and he didn’t muster much more than that. Long fingers wrapped around him, flutter from root to tip and finish with a nice firm squeeze.
"Pardon." Remy's gaze tore away from the shadows between them to fix on Logan's eyes. "It's my lucky day."
"Ya don't need to sweet talk me now." Logan shook his head, but it was the kind of reaction every man wanted to get, whether he'd ever admit to it or not. Raising up to sit on his heels, he gathered up the fall of Remy's hair in his hand. The strands were soft and damp at the nape of Remy's neck, feather fine everywhere else, and Logan firmed his grip, tugging the kid's head back before inching up and guiding him close enough to feel each warm puff of breath. He stared at the taut stretch of throat, the bob of it as Remy swallowed, jumping from there to the sharp-edged shadows of collarbone and deep-set eyes. "Still feeling lucky?"
Before Logan knew what he was doing, his hand skidded down, curving around Remy's neck. His thumb pressed lightly to the hollow, held firm but testing more than threatening. The red of Remy's eyes deepened to a muddy haze.
"Oui," he said, sounding well-fucked already. The soft pink of his tongue flashed over his lips as Logan guided his mouth where it belongs.
Remy's lips curved beautifully as they slid over the head of Logan's cock. His fingers dragged slowly down the length before he took a handful of Logan's balls and pushed them up to roll between his palm and the very root of Logan's cock. He pulled his mouth away with a blissful smile, his eyes closed to slits. "Very, very lucky."
Logan was lashed to the pendulum swing of wanting to get right down to it and wanting to find out everything Remy could do with his sweet, eager mouth. His head buzzed. He was the proverbial fucking kid in the candy store—nothing in front of him that he didn’t like. It was clear that Remy's focus was just as eager, drilling down to the taste of Logan's cock as his tongue lapped and licked. He reacted like he got a jolt from a live wire with each hot surge of thickening flesh when his greedy mouth caught enough to suck.
"Fuck, kid, you love dick that much?" Logan got a throaty moan and a sharp tug on his sac for an answer, and when his cock slipped out of Remy's mouth with a wet sucking pop, the kid gazed up at him. Remy's mouth stayed open, lips flushed and parted like a porn star, and he rubbed his cheek against the faint, instinctive thrusts of Logan's cock.
"Love fucking almost as much as I love cards," Remy purred. It had to be awkward for him, neck bent and body near immobile under Logan's straddling thighs, but it didn’t seem to matter. His hands still managed to work their magic, squeezing and caressing down the length of Logan's dick and the taut pouch of his balls.
"Take s'more, then." Logan meant for it to be a shallow thrust, just like he meant for his grip on Remy's hair to ease up, but neither of those things happen. The quick puff of air from Remy's nose was cool on skin turned fever hot and wet from Remy's mouth and Logan only shoved in harder. A light scrape of teeth not carefully guarded lit a spark along Logan's spine and his breath came in a sharp hiss echoed by Remy when Logan cupped his chin and pulled his jaw wide. The head of Logan's cock settled on the flat of Remy's tongue, near filling his mouth, and Logan thought for a second about painting those perfect cheekbones white. "You got about five seconds to tell me if you can take it or not, or I'm just gonna see for myself if your throat's good for anything other than making noise."
A garbled mess of words fail to make it around the swollen head of Logan's cock, and Remy twisted free of his grip. Logan didn’t let go easily, and didn’t retreat while Remy worked his jaw from side to side and sucked in a series of increasingly deep breaths. "I can take it," he said, matter-of-fact rather than like he's got something to prove. "Only, not forever, Logan. Gotta let me breathe, 'm no fun passed out." Remy's tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, brushing Logan's fingers through the barrier of flesh. Logan's touch never really left the kid's face, and his thumb dragged back to Remy's lips, over and down to tug at the skin just beneath and bare his teeth.
Remy shivered as his mouth opened wide again, tongue lolling out to welcome the press of Logan's thumb. His lips twitched and the muscle of his tongue tensed like he had something more to say. Logan shut him up before he had the chance, going straight from pinning the kid's tongue with his thumb to stuffing his cock down Remy's throat.
Remy's head tipped back—had to in order to take Logan like this—and Logan followed with his body. He gave up holding on to anything and dropped his hands down to the mattress, crouched over Remy and prepped to fuck all the way in. There was no gagging, no struggling, just the squirm of Remy propping himself up on his elbows to tilt his head further yet. Logan took every opportunity Remy gave him, and a few slow thrusts turned into one long steady push that buried him in inches until the stiff curls of his pubes were grinding against Remy's lips and the flush of pleasure on Remy's cheeks darkened towards an angry red. It was tight-wet-bliss and Logan groaned pulling out. Remy coughed, the sound hoarse and strained, but he surged up to suck the saliva stringing from Logan's cock, latched his mouth around the tip to suck again even as he breathed in harsh and needy through his nose.
Logan gave Remy a little less time to catch his breath than he probably should, but when he stuffed Remy's mouth full again, the kid didn’t do a damn thing to get away. Logan had been keen on fucking Remy's mouth, getting to know what sort of noises he could coax out of him, and yet this—this was better. Remy's eyes teared up, glistening shine on midnight black, and his skin flushed all the way down to his chest as he just took it. "Christ Jesus, boy." Logan's lip peeled back, his teeth clenched.
It was every scrap of rational thought he's got left in him that had him taking another fistful of Remy's hair and dragging himself back. He yanked Remy's head down and pinned it to the pillow, knuckles tangled in long strands that curl dark as dried blood against the soft cotton. Trapped, Remy couldn’t follow this time but Logan didn’t make it far from slack lips and the inviting pink of Remy's soft, wet tongue. He moved against Remy's cheek, and it was only the tightness of his grip that kept the kid from reveling in it, rubbing against him like a fucking cat. Remy's eyes rolled back, fixed on a point beyond Logan as Logan's cock slaps against his chin. The only thing above him was water stains and chipped plaster but it looked like he was seeing God.
"Like the way you taste," Remy said, eyes drifting shut. A fresh sound of appreciation sank into Logan's flesh when his balls dragged over Remy's chin. Remy's tongue lapped at every inch of flesh, hard or soft, that Logan put near his mouth. God, it was like he really couldn’t get enough.
Logan closed his eyes when he dipped a few fingers past the kid's gently sucking lips. As he smeared spit over the wetness already on Remy's face, Remy's body twisted. He squirmed fitfully, like he might be tired of working his mouth and wanted some attention given to the rest of him. "Lick every inch of you, if you'd let me." Maybe not.
Remy's hands skidded up the outside of Logan's legs as Logan settled back. His cock left a staggered wet trail down Remy's chest that Remy found like a magnet, rubbing it into his skin and then tracing absent patterns with his fingertips to draw Logan's gaze. Logan dropped a tonguing kiss down the line of Remy's chest and breathed deep as that too was rubbed away. The way it changed Remy's scent gets to him in the lowest, darkest places of his core.
He swung up and off of Remy, stripping out of his clothes as if they'd caught fire. "What other promises you gonna make?" Logan asked, glancing up to watch the tilt of Remy's lips.
Remy's hand trailed up his neck, blunt nails rasping lightly over the soft whiskers at his throat before moving to where Logan's eyes were fixed. He licked his fingers delicately, swiped them over his flushed mouth and grinned, cocksure and flirty. "How about I promise to ride you good," he said, teeth closing over his finger like a goddamn schoolgirl. "I am dying to feel that thick, pretty cock of yours in me."
"Shove over," Logan said, halfway on the bed already. Remy shifted, but didn’t move fast enough and as soon as there was space, Logan slid into the warm spot on the sheets and rolled Remy on top of him. Quick as you please, he had Remy right where he wanted, limbs spread loose and wide and his pert ass sitting snug on the tops of Logan's thighs.
Remy stretched his long arms out, chest brushing against Logan's. His breath was heavy with the scent of Logan's sweat and one long, inventive curse rolls right off his tongue when Logan's fingers touch to him, lube-slick and probing. He squirmed against Logan's fingers as they pushed up and in. The flex of his hip under Logan's grip holding him in place said he was quick to want to make good on his promise. A quiet chuckle rumbled up from Logan's chest. He circled the kid’s grasping hold with a fingertip. Who was the impatient one now?
"Care to share the source of your amusement?" Remy asked between nipping kisses to Logan's jaw.
"No."
Remy snorted softly, said, "You're not a nice man, are you," and licked into Logan's mouth. His tongue traced the flat of teeth before pushing past and tangling with Logan's tongue in a lazy, searching kiss. It was the first taste of Remy's mouth he'd had and it was thick with sex.
Logan's hand pulled away from Remy's hip and clapped to his cheek, held his jaw to deepen the kiss and make it dirtier as Remy grinded against the press of his fingers. A quiet, surprised sound dropped straight from his mouth into Logan's when the fine points of Logan's teeth caught on his lip, and the smell of his blood rushing with a dump of adrenaline dragged an answering growl out of Logan. He was dizzy with the smell of all the heat and lust building up in the close air of the small room, all the fucking and smoke and booze imprinted in the walls leeching out and saturating Logan's bones.
"Took you this long to figure out I ain’t nice?" Logan murmured when Remy jerked away, his spine arching as Logan's fingers drove in deep, curved hard and stroked him on the inside. Logan's grin turned feral when he pulled his fingers right out and Remy's eyes flew wide. They slid back to slits when Logan flicked open the bottle of lube with his thumb and squeezed a shot of chill gel straight to the base of Remy's spine.
"Y'got me plenty wet, no?" Remy curled close to Logan again, panting softly, his spine rolling in waves as Logan's touch skipped slick along the warm crease of his ass.
Logan wiped his fingers off on his dick, finished the job by smearing the last clinging wetness away on the back of Remy's thigh. Grinning unapologetically, his grip settled above the sharp jut of Remy's hip bones, fitting there as perfect as a jigsaw piece. "How about you tell me."
"About time," Remy moaned. He smeared a smile against the corner of Logan's mouth and sat up, arms stretching overhead, spine bending back, head tipped until his whole damn body was curved like a C. Logan palmed the taut planes of Remy's stomach, heel of his hand flirting near the base of Remy's cock. Arms falling leisurely, Remy slid his hips forward and his balls dragged up over Logan's belly, the soft brush no comparison to the thrill of his slicked-up hole slipping along the length of Logan's cock. Every instinct Logan had told him to firm his grip, pick Remy up and drop him down, impale him in one smooth move. But the kid was wriggling around to do all the work handsfree and Logan contented himself with a hiss.
"So far so good," Remy said, and all his squirming has done the trick. The head of Logan's cock rested right where it needed to be and Remy's eyes glittered in anticipation. Logan's gaze must be just as hungry, even when it narrowed down, shadowed and blurred by the sudden pleasure that claimed him as tight and hot as Remy's body. Remy moaned at the blunt shove, reaching back to feel where Logan stretched him open. He breathed out a quiet, "And that's even better."
He didn’t mind the sight of Remy like this at all—the shudder and shake, the pleasure shapes taking over his lush mouth—and it got him wondering if Remy might change his mind about this being a one shot deal. Down the line, once all the blood was spilled and the hurts scabbed over properly, a little give and take wasn't necessarily a bad notion….
But it was no good thinking about that now. Better to just enjoy the hot pleasure that burned through him, a hell of an improvement over the headache the kid'd been brewing earlier. Logan had hardly shoved the thought aside when Remy threw a wrench straight into the machinery of his brain and shut it down entirely with a gritty moan and a slow grind that took more of him in.
"Easy does it, Logan," he said, reaching for the bottle leaking onto the sheets. Fingers grasped the base of Logan's cock, and a sizzle of pleasure went from his groin to chest as Remy slicked up what's still exposed. Remy fell forward, weight on his wrists, smile gone reckless, wild, goddamn asking for it. "Few more inches and you'll be in me deep as before."
Logan gave up a quiet grunt instead of an answer, grip firming on Remy's thighs, ready to take those few inches sooner than later. He almost missed the way Remy's gaze went unfocused, and that would've been a shame. The kid's lusty moan, the way he surrendered himself to the moment because everything he felt was so damn good— The feel of his body slick and clenching, his fingers gone clumsy where they tried to grasp Logan's arms. It was one big ego stroke with a chaser of voyeurism and Logan skidded his hands up Remy's back.
"You plannin' on just enjoying the view or making good on your pretty promises?" Every moment that passed made it seem to Logan like Remy fit better in the circle of his arms, like he could very well belong there. Logan blinked away the strange fog, found Remy's arms had moved to bracket his head, fingers threaded into his hair again.
"View is worth enjoying. You a handsome man when you not scowling," Remy said, and fucked Logan slowly. His hair swayed with the rhythmic rocking of his body. He tongued at the blunt point of a canine. "Good thing I'm flying you out of here come morning. Town's not big enough for two mutants as good looking as we are."
Logan drew in a deep breath and clarity snapped back as his lungs filled with the mingle of scents drifting between the tangle of their bodies and somewhere, too distant to worry about, the sharp biting smell of fresh blood. "You and that mouth," Logan snarled not unkindly, and held Remy closer as he drew his knees up, heels bracing on the rumpled sheets to drive a sweet noise out of him instead of nonsense. It was too good to leave at that; Remy's heart thudded wildly, his breath coming quick and shallow, and there wasn’t a scrap of resistance in the lithe curves of him to stop Logan from fucking into him as he wants.
Sounds poured off Remy's tongue, and even if half of them got shortened by Logan slamming in to the root, there was still a mix of choppy sentences in there. Whatever thought flittered through his brain came tumbling out, coaxing one moment and on the next hard thrust turning to dirty encouragement. Ah, Logan, baby, thought you'd wanted me to ride you, not merely hang on. S-slo— Lent, juste un peu plus lentement. Oh, one look at you and I knew you'd be— Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you've got the biggest cock I've had in me in years.
"Told ya, you don't have to sweet talk me no more." Logan wouldn't mind if circumstances were different, but truth is, right now it just fed the urge to leave more of a mark on Remy, make sure he wouldn’t be forgotten the moment the kid dropped him out of the sky. Foolish, because what did it matter if he's another fuck in a long line of fucks—hell, it'd be better that way—but the rumbling building up low in Logan's throat said different. Maybe it was that for the first time in a long time he couldn't see beyond the damage he was fixing on doing. You know what happens to a man who goes looking for blood?
"Save the lazy Cajun way for later." Logan's arms tightened around Remy, maybe too hard when Remy was just blood and bone, featherlight in comparison to the weight of metal and vengeance lurking inside Logan. All the breath went out of Remy—the first time he'd been quiet in long minutes—and then he had his teeth chewing on his lip, his body grinding down to take Logan balls deep and moan for it.
"Why? You gon' blush if I keep up the sweet talking, cher?" he asked, sweeping hair out of his face. The point of his tongue swirled at Logan's cheekbone, breath slipping warm towards his ear. One side of Remy's neck was exposed as his head tipped to the side and Logan's mouth found skin before he knew it, the wet of a kiss slipping into the press of teeth. The need to taste overwhelmed the need to pump his hips, and his rhythm turned stuttered in favor of the sweep of his mouth on the sweet and salty of Remy's skin. "Wanting Remy to whisper to you across the pillow. Now who's sweet talkin'?"
Remy's smugness turned into a hiss as Logan abandoned rhythm. He left his mouth open and digging hard against the slope of Remy's neck and just pounds into the kid, brutal and relentless. Slowing down again after a bit, alive to every sound and smell, Logan shifted, wraps Remy tight in his arms again and tumbled them over. He palmed the backs of Remy's thighs, soft hairs sticking damp to his skin. Shoving the kid's legs up, Logan resettled between them with a hand on his cock to guide it straight back in. "Better," he said at Remy's breathless moan and the soft, panting quiet that follows.
Propped up to let his gaze travel down the sinuous length of Remy's body all the way to where he was stretched open and taking each rolling thrust like he's built for it, Logan savored the look of him. Kid was pretty in all the ways to invite the trouble his mouth didn’t make for him; Remy's body fit to grace a billboard in a pair of clingy briefs. And yet here he was, caught under the weight of Logan's body, rocking to the slam of Logan's cock like it was the best damn thing he'd ever felt. A fierce curl of want seized Logan low in the groin to see the glistening thread of precome strung between the flushed head of Remy's cock and the pale skin of his belly. Thin as a thread, it shivered to the beat of Remy's pulse and the lust unfolded, roaring through Logan's body like a flashflood. Hot and cold, it sent his vision searing, gone white with his instincts screaming for him to fuck harder, faster, force every single noise Remy can make out of him.
With a low, hungry groan, Logan freed Remy's legs to shove his arms under the kid's body. His hands slid easily over sweat-slicked skin to curl up over Remy's shoulders and pull him down into each grinding thrust. Remy's legs slipped, caught, fell again before locking tight, heels digging in close to Logan's spine.
Remy's scattered mewling turned into a low keen, and Logan swiped a quick lick over the slack shape of his mouth. "Say something sweet to me now," he said, mangling the raw sounds Remy made by biting at soft lips and sucking away the hurt a second later. Logan grinned savagely, pulling back to drive it home in long, steady strokes that sent pleasure humming through his bones. Remy couldn’t seem to do much of anything now, not even hold on for the ride. His hands kneaded at Logan's shoulders one moment and the next his palms were pressed flat, fingers splaying wide. Eventually, he ended up twisting up handfuls of the trashed sheets, his fitful squirming pulling the corners away from the mattress.
"You an easy man to fuck," Remy said, grunting out the words stubbornly, "but a hard man to like."
"Says the pot." Logan's stomach went tense and his grip on Remy's shoulders tightened in turn. Their bodies sealed together at the peak of one hard thrust, nothing between them but a quick prayer that he'd last a moment longer. A filthy thrill zipped along his nerves when Remy tried and failed to buck his hips, a moan wrenching out of his sweet mouth when the attempt got his cock digging into Logan's belly. He thought about asking if the kid was ready for it, if he wanted the shot of Logan's spunk in him or on him.
He opened his mouth but it was already too late, the hot surge of it twisting the words forming in his throat into a raw sound that's all animal. Remy's voice rose to match his and the headboard cracked against the wall with the same violent kick of Logan's heart. Logan shoved up on his wrists, fired up with the need to see his cock buried in Remy's body again.
Freed from Logan's weight, Remy writhed, chest arching up off the sheets and his hips rolling in tight circles, his body clenching to drag Logan off that sharp edge and send him tumbling down into hot waves of pleasure that slicked up Remy's insides.
Logan saw red, saw black, saw the fucking faces of the angelic choir as he lost it.
The kid's hands on his face pulled him back, and his vision snapped from the haze to Remy's slow smile. "Now's come time for the lazy Cajun way," he said. His legs peeled away from Logan's sides, unfolding to fall wide. A warm breeze kissed Logan's heat-sticky skin, the sudden tightness that rippled along his body not from the brush of air so much as the way Remy's smile turned slanted as his hands went wandering down between the planes of his belly. Remy's fingers curled around the base of Logan’s cock.
That momentary daze fades, Logan's senses snapping back to razor sharp. He dropped kisses to Remy's skin, mouth wandering and leaving unflinchingly hard bite marks from the kid's biceps on up to his neck. Remy held his breath at each bite, like he was betting on Logan breaking skin, but when it was nothing but a bruise sucked to the surface, he moaned and his body squeezed tight around Logan's softening cock.
Between bites and the wet lick of lingering kisses that coated his mouth with Remy's taste, Logan tossed darting glances down to the hand Remy's got jacking his own cock. Remy's smooth fingers hold himself firm, not so single-minded in his pursuit that he can't gauge which sounds send echoes of want rippling through Logan.
It's a show and Logan knew it, but if having Logan's gaze on him still heated and hungry got Remy off, Logan was going to enjoy it. Remy was liquid and panting one moment and biting down hard on his lip the next, his hand now moving in fast, terse strokes. Logan muffled a groan into the crook of Remy's neck when the first pulse of come hits his skin, then the next, the mess of it dripping right back down onto Remy's belly to pool there in the hollow of his navel.
Finally, Remy's body went lax, a quiet, breathy laugh that was as smug as it was satisfied easing out of him. Logan wasn't ready to let him go just yet, and took his mouth again, licked against teeth and tongue until Remy returned it. He reached down, pushed Remy's hand away to replace it with his own, his fingers rubbing the head of Remy's cock as he swallowed the faint whine of too much, too soon. Slowly, he moved his hand up, trailed it through the cooling slickness of come before pressing his palm down right in the center of it and kneading lazily to rub the smell into the kid’s skin.
"After that, I'm expecting some peace," Logan declared. He shifted back enough that his cock finally slipped free, almost instantly regretting that all that sloppy heat, fucked warm and open was relegated to memory. His brains were baking in his skull. The damn southern heat made him careless, too free with a slow caress that started off sticky and wet at Remy's thigh. Logan cupped his hand between Remy's legs to feel what he did to him, the gaping stretch that twitched and went from inviting to tight and back again.
Logan rolled off him, hand not quite drawing away. The dip of the mattress made it easy for Remy to curl up against him, one leg sliding up to rest over him and encourage Logan's touch to stay where it is.
Remy cradled his face, thumbs skimming over the soft scratch of a few days worth of avoiding a razor. "You be rid of me soon enough. No reason to start giving you peace now," he said. The very corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled softly. "Takes a lot to wear me out."
Again some part of him thinks it'd be a pity he wouldn't be warming Remy's sheets a little longer. Easy on the eyes if not the nerves, they could have one whirlwind week of marathon fucks. But the tracks had already been lain and there was no way Logan was going to do anything other than see this to its end.
"Too bad," Remy said, thoughts seemingly echoing Logan's. He sighed, eyes fluttering shut as the lazy stroke of Logan's finger turns into a slow push inside.
So easy now, so soft.
His voice was a rough whisper when he went on. "May be that you'd find that out if I didn't need at least six hours of beauty sleep to be fresh enough to fly. May be that you'll come back and we'll cross paths again."
Remy's eyes opened, and Logan could see the vengeance simmering in his skin reflected there. "Can't rule it out," Logan said. His fingers go still after one last stroke, and Remy curled closer to nuzzle a kiss at the hinge of his jaw.
"You like it easy, I imagine," he said. "When a man's fucked loose like you've done me."
"Got no complaints," Logan replied. He turned to press his mouth to Remy's and get the last word. The kiss fell apart naturally, a fire banked, and Logan brushed the hair away from Remy's face. Took a lot to wear the kid out, maybe, but he's a boneless sprawl of contentment. Of course, it'd be hard to feel unsatisfied after a fuck like that; Logan had got what he hadn't known he wanted and seems like Remy got his too.
Pride boosted a bit, Logan rolled up onto his feet to stretch out well-used muscles, the taut pull a hell of a lot nicer than the ache of a knock-down drag. He ignored the clock on the wall ticking down the time to the next row. "You got a shower in this matchbox?"
Remy stirred, his head lifting from the pillow, his long arms wrapping themselves around a wadded mess of sheets that served as a poor substitute for Logan's body. "Nevermind, I'll find it," Logan said, grabbing up his pants to dig a lighter from the pocket. Remy silently lay his head down again, but Logan could feel the weight of his gaze like an arrow in the back.
Steps as quiet and final as death moved Logan down the hall. Rescuing the stub of his cigar, he pushed open the window and propped his arms on the sill. He'd get that shower in a minute. For now, he'd take the mingle of Remy and sex clinging to him over the too-sweet scents the stink of his cigar couldn’t mask.
"I'm not like you, kid," he murmured. Downstairs, the television was off. Sirens wailed in distant streets. "Never been good at easy."