I did. [ He squeezes where he's gripping, slides his fist down to the base of Jean-Paul's prick to hold him steady. ] I do.
What I don't like is people cooin' over how cute I am.
[ His hand stops moving, but only so he can lower his hips-- Jean-Paul's tip against his wet hole.
Logan's lips part in a pleased, sighing yes as he's breached, and then sinks lower and lower, hands finding purchase on Jean-Paul's belly to accommodate the way Logan's knees move apart the more he squeezes around him.
He really is wet, as indicated. But he's tight once more, like they hadn't just done this minutes ago. ]
Nnh. [ He tucks his chin against his chest, shivering as he rolls his hips, curls his nails into Jean-Paul's skin. ] God--
We're not cute. Neither of... us. [He cuts himself off by biting his lip as Logan sinks down onto him.] Is cute. Oh.
[Jean-Paul wraps his arms around Logan, pulling himself close. He wants - needs - as much skin to skin contact as he can get. His hips rise to meet Logan when his hips fall, counterpoint rhythm beating out a steady pulse.]
Mais, non. Not cute. Just. Ah. [He digs his own nails into Logan's back.]
Ffffuck yourself, ah. Please, just use me. Ouais. [His mouth finds Logan's neck and he sucks the skin, mauling it with no fear of leaving a mark.]
[ Nails in his skin have him growling, hips bucking hard in a loud smack of their skin. Jean-Paul's teeth and lips are hot over his neck, wet, and Logan shuts his eyes against them as his fingers curl in his hair.
The control necessary to keep himself from falling, hundreds of pounds of adamantium and all, is almost painful to employ. But Logan rides Jean-Paul all the same, breaths hot and short and moaning in their ohs. His other hand meets its partner, stroking and curling lightly into Jean-Paul's hair, then scritches down the curve of his skull as Logan pulls away just enough to press their foreheads together, each whine he makes filling the space between them.
His fingers cup either side of Jean-Paul's jaw before he kisses him hard on the mouth, lips parted and hips rocking faster, a little more out of rhythm, a little more hurried in his need.
His own cock rubs up into Jean-Paul's stomach, precome wet on his skin, and as he tilts his hips and Jean-Paul hits him just right, there's a flinch and a cry before Logan does it again, again, again, tight and slick and perfect.
Use him, Jean-Paul said. So Logan does so shamelessly, hands moving to press into his chest as he fucks himself hard onto his cock, his head dropping back and his whines rising higher and higher. ]
[Hands in his hair, mouth hot against Logan's, Jean-Paul can't contain the whimpers rising in his throat. He can't do anything but slam his hips up, and dig his nails into that sculpted back as if hanging on for dear life.
No, not quite true. Selfish he may be, but not entirely. He forces one hand to release and snake to Logan's cock. He wraps long fingers around it and pumps, fast - but not too fast, never that - and hard.
He's so close to the edge. His competitive streak doesn't want him to finish first, but the way Logan keeps fucking himself on him is making it difficult to focus on anything but the drive to do exactly that.
So. He pumps his fist, slick with sweat and precome and old lube, and leans in to bite Logan's neck again. His tongue soothes the skin right after, and he brings his lips to his ear. He pants when he talks, and his voice is unsteady with lust.]
[ He's never heard Jean-Paul like that before, and it gets to him like a hammer shattering straight into his spine. That was an order, Jesus, he'd just been given an order. ] Jean-Paul--
[ And it kick starts some deep-seated need to do good, to be good, and Logan's toes curl as his fingers dig hard into Jean-Paul's shoulders. His jaw goes slack, lashes fluttering with pleasure, and his mouth stays soft and open to carry each lilting, rising cry that comes with the stab of Jean-Paul's prick so deep inside him. ]
Ah, fuck! [ Even those two syllables come out messy, breathless, and his arms hook around Jean-Paul's neck for fear of bruising his shoulders beneath his fingertips. Logan's eyes shut, brows tight, and rather than stifle any sound he lets them all out: higher, higher, higher, matching the tighter arch of his back--
And then his lips are just parted in pure, enthralling pleasure, spine curved and cock thick and come spilling out of him to spatter on both their bellies. It'd be easier if Logan just stopped moving, but his greed comes out in the uncoordinated, messy thrusts of his hips, smearing come over Jean-Paul's fingers and squeezing around his dick. ]
Wah, hnnh-- [ His ass smacks down into Jean-Paul's thighs, and smaller spurts come from the tip of his erection as he tucks his head against the side of Jean-Paul's and moans breathlessly against his temple, each sound interspersed with animal whines and whimpers. ]
[Logan is heavy, but there's something compelling about the sensation. It's not his full weight, no, but it's more than usual and Jean-Paul loves it.
Hs body moves as much as it can to meet Logan's, burying his cock as deep as he can. His stomach feels hot and heavy, his skin flushed.
Logan's fingers digging into his shoulders, the sounds, and the hot spill of come...
He keeps thrusting up, but it's not long before he comes as well, hips slamming up and holding... holding... rocking and sliding back to the mattress. His hands come up, running through Logan's hair over and over, petting him.]
Logan. Oh, Logan. So good, mon amour, so very good. [He kisses his temple.]
[ In any other situation he's aware being called "good" would only have him giving some kind of disbelieving look. Right now he clings to the praise and relishes the touch of lips to his skin, his hips stilling as Jean-Paul's do.
He shivers, tucking his forehead into the curve of Jean-Paul's neck. He didn't think it was possible, but he feels fuller, hotter...
His teeth scrape over the skin of Jean-Paul's shoulder before he gives it a kiss. Then he's kissing his jaw, and kissing the lobe of his ear before worrying it gently between his teeth.
Logan's heart is still racing, and he lets out a wordless, satisfied little hum. ]
[ He grins, but hides it in another kiss to Jean-Paul's shoulder. ] Shouldn't have showed me how sensitive they were earlier. [ But at least he's relenting, behaving with soft kisses to the curve of his neck, before he just presses his face there.
Logan's never going to get tired of scenting him. ]
Why twenty? [ He'll finally slump over, though, careful to move so he doesn't crush Jean-Paul under his full weight. Thumping uselessly at his side, he wraps a leg around his waist, pleasant shivers crawling up his spine as he feels the mess inside him shift.
God, he's going to have to shower before he falls asleep. ]
Don't remember what twenty was like.
[ Then again, Logan didn't really know he was twenty when he was. He curls up against Jean-Paul, face in his shoulder. ]
[Honestly, they're both a complete mess. So is the bed, Jean-Paul is discovering. But that can wait a minute because he's not done running his hands all over Logan, apparently.]
Because at twenty I had boundless energy and was more likely to act head over heels for a guy.
[A kiss to the top of Logan's head.] We're gross. You wanna shower? I'll give you a minute and then I'll come wash your back.
[ His voice has gone low, soft and satisfied and lazy, and Logan touches his lips to Jean-Paul's shoulder and murmurs: ] You sure you're not giving yourself a minute?
[ Man, the purring's really not helping him build a solid case for not being a minou at all.
Still, as tends to be the explanation for most things: ] Healing factor. [ ...well, that and one more confession, spoken as he pushes himself up and crawls carefully to slip off the bed without sitting on it. ] An' I like being marked.
Why are you so hot? Ughhhh. Go, go, I cannot look at you. I'll be in the shower in five. I wanna wash your hair. And I promise after we're clean I'll rub all over you so you won't be mistaken for a stray.
[ Looking over his shoulder as he stands, Logan's brow lifts. ] Don't think I ain't countin' on the rubbing now. [ Because he fully expects Jean-Paul to make good on what he says, even if it seems incredibly, incredibly stupid in his head.
In any case, Logan walks in a mostly-casual-but-really-proud manner towards the bathroom connected to his room, come streaking down his thighs and all.
Then he dutifully gets clean from the inside out, but predictably refuses to scrub his skin as thoroughly as he could. (Thank God his soap is scentless.) ]
[Alone, Jean-Paul sighs. Aloud, he mutters in French:] You've got it bad, Jean-Paul.
[He gets up and strips the bed, speeds to the linen closet, returns, and makes the bed once more. That done, he dumps the sheets in Logan's laundry basket and strolls into the bathroom. He hops into the shower.]
Allo. [A nuzzle before stealing the soap. Jean-Paul is a vigorous scrubber, himself, and is the sort to actually use a nail brush. Then he snags the shampoo. Standing behind Logan, he starts soaping up the other man's hair, fingers massaging his scalp. He hums as he does this, something upbeat.]
[ Congratulations, Jean-Paul, you're getting to push Logan's hair flat.
He likes the attention, head tilting back slightly. Logan's hair isn't nearly as long, so it's not like it'll take an unearthly amount of time to get it clean, but the touch is affectionate, so of course he basks in it.
As earlier stated, Logan's hair only stays down when wet. Gel and hairspray seem not to work on the little spikes that are his trademark.
[ His head ducks as his habits are pisted back to him, a small smile on his face that teeters between fondness and mild disbelief. Logan shakes his head, then steps out of the shower whilst nabbing the towel hanging on its rack. ] People really judge sexual preferences by someone's personality?
[ Drying himself off, he keeps his feet on the carpet. Logan takes precursory sniffs of himself and lets out a self-satisfied noise about Jean-Paul's scent lingering pleasantly. ]
Hn... you can bring whatever you want, too. Tons of space.
[ When Jean-Paul walks out, Logan tosses the towel at him. ]
They really do. It's stupid, but people aren't that bright. They see a big burly guy who can beat people up and go, oh, he must be dominant all d'time.
[He catches the towel and dries off quickly, moving to hang it up before he steps close to Logan. He wraps his arms around him and nuzzles his neck.]
Warrior wit' a poet's soul. That's you. My big ol' kitty cat.
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[He shivers all over when his ear is touched, his mouth opening in a sigh as his eyes flutter closed.]
Non? I didn't know if... I dunno. You wanted people to know.
[Jean-Paul's hips rise again, mindless and primal.]
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What I don't like is people cooin' over how cute I am.
[ His hand stops moving, but only so he can lower his hips-- Jean-Paul's tip against his wet hole.
Logan's lips part in a pleased, sighing yes as he's breached, and then sinks lower and lower, hands finding purchase on Jean-Paul's belly to accommodate the way Logan's knees move apart the more he squeezes around him.
He really is wet, as indicated. But he's tight once more, like they hadn't just done this minutes ago. ]
Nnh. [ He tucks his chin against his chest, shivering as he rolls his hips, curls his nails into Jean-Paul's skin. ] God--
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[Jean-Paul wraps his arms around Logan, pulling himself close. He wants - needs - as much skin to skin contact as he can get. His hips rise to meet Logan when his hips fall, counterpoint rhythm beating out a steady pulse.]
Mais, non. Not cute. Just. Ah. [He digs his own nails into Logan's back.]
Ffffuck yourself, ah. Please, just use me. Ouais. [His mouth finds Logan's neck and he sucks the skin, mauling it with no fear of leaving a mark.]
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The control necessary to keep himself from falling, hundreds of pounds of adamantium and all, is almost painful to employ. But Logan rides Jean-Paul all the same, breaths hot and short and moaning in their ohs. His other hand meets its partner, stroking and curling lightly into Jean-Paul's hair, then scritches down the curve of his skull as Logan pulls away just enough to press their foreheads together, each whine he makes filling the space between them.
His fingers cup either side of Jean-Paul's jaw before he kisses him hard on the mouth, lips parted and hips rocking faster, a little more out of rhythm, a little more hurried in his need.
His own cock rubs up into Jean-Paul's stomach, precome wet on his skin, and as he tilts his hips and Jean-Paul hits him just right, there's a flinch and a cry before Logan does it again, again, again, tight and slick and perfect.
Use him, Jean-Paul said. So Logan does so shamelessly, hands moving to press into his chest as he fucks himself hard onto his cock, his head dropping back and his whines rising higher and higher. ]
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No, not quite true. Selfish he may be, but not entirely. He forces one hand to release and snake to Logan's cock. He wraps long fingers around it and pumps, fast - but not too fast, never that - and hard.
He's so close to the edge. His competitive streak doesn't want him to finish first, but the way Logan keeps fucking himself on him is making it difficult to focus on anything but the drive to do exactly that.
So. He pumps his fist, slick with sweat and precome and old lube, and leans in to bite Logan's neck again. His tongue soothes the skin right after, and he brings his lips to his ear. He pants when he talks, and his voice is unsteady with lust.]
Come for me. Need to see your face this time.
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[ And it kick starts some deep-seated need to do good, to be good, and Logan's toes curl as his fingers dig hard into Jean-Paul's shoulders. His jaw goes slack, lashes fluttering with pleasure, and his mouth stays soft and open to carry each lilting, rising cry that comes with the stab of Jean-Paul's prick so deep inside him. ]
Ah, fuck! [ Even those two syllables come out messy, breathless, and his arms hook around Jean-Paul's neck for fear of bruising his shoulders beneath his fingertips. Logan's eyes shut, brows tight, and rather than stifle any sound he lets them all out: higher, higher, higher, matching the tighter arch of his back--
And then his lips are just parted in pure, enthralling pleasure, spine curved and cock thick and come spilling out of him to spatter on both their bellies. It'd be easier if Logan just stopped moving, but his greed comes out in the uncoordinated, messy thrusts of his hips, smearing come over Jean-Paul's fingers and squeezing around his dick. ]
Wah, hnnh-- [ His ass smacks down into Jean-Paul's thighs, and smaller spurts come from the tip of his erection as he tucks his head against the side of Jean-Paul's and moans breathlessly against his temple, each sound interspersed with animal whines and whimpers. ]
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Hs body moves as much as it can to meet Logan's, burying his cock as deep as he can. His stomach feels hot and heavy, his skin flushed.
Logan's fingers digging into his shoulders, the sounds, and the hot spill of come...
He keeps thrusting up, but it's not long before he comes as well, hips slamming up and holding... holding... rocking and sliding back to the mattress. His hands come up, running through Logan's hair over and over, petting him.]
Logan. Oh, Logan. So good, mon amour, so very good. [He kisses his temple.]
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He shivers, tucking his forehead into the curve of Jean-Paul's neck. He didn't think it was possible, but he feels fuller, hotter...
His teeth scrape over the skin of Jean-Paul's shoulder before he gives it a kiss. Then he's kissing his jaw, and kissing the lobe of his ear before worrying it gently between his teeth.
Logan's heart is still racing, and he lets out a wordless, satisfied little hum. ]
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Logan, d'ears, I swear.. Give me t'irty seconds, huh?
[He runs one hand through Logan's hair again, while the other strokes his back.]
If you want to go again, I will. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I need to catch my breath.
Mmm. Good?
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Logan's never going to get tired of scenting him. ]
's really good.
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[So bossy.] I cannot get over this. I feel like I'm twenty, Chrrisse.
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God, he's going to have to shower before he falls asleep. ]
Don't remember what twenty was like.
[ Then again, Logan didn't really know he was twenty when he was. He curls up against Jean-Paul, face in his shoulder. ]
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Because at twenty I had boundless energy and was more likely to act head over heels for a guy.
[A kiss to the top of Logan's head.] We're gross. You wanna shower? I'll give you a minute and then I'll come wash your back.
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[ You know, to catch his breath and all. ]
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Maybe I just want to allow you some privacy to tidy up because I just came in you twice. ...I still can't believe that. I mean for real.
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Still, as tends to be the explanation for most things: ] Healing factor. [ ...well, that and one more confession, spoken as he pushes himself up and crawls carefully to slip off the bed without sitting on it. ] An' I like being marked.
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Jean-Paul watches and considers pouncing.]
Why are you so hot? Ughhhh. Go, go, I cannot look at you. I'll be in the shower in five. I wanna wash your hair. And I promise after we're clean I'll rub all over you so you won't be mistaken for a stray.
"go, go, i cannot look at you" is so powerful i'm
In any case, Logan walks in a mostly-casual-but-really-proud manner towards the bathroom connected to his room, come streaking down his thighs and all.
Then he dutifully gets clean from the inside out, but predictably refuses to scrub his skin as thoroughly as he could. (Thank God his soap is scentless.) ]
XD
[He gets up and strips the bed, speeds to the linen closet, returns, and makes the bed once more. That done, he dumps the sheets in Logan's laundry basket and strolls into the bathroom. He hops into the shower.]
Allo. [A nuzzle before stealing the soap. Jean-Paul is a vigorous scrubber, himself, and is the sort to actually use a nail brush. Then he snags the shampoo. Standing behind Logan, he starts soaping up the other man's hair, fingers massaging his scalp. He hums as he does this, something upbeat.]
theyre so cute ok sobs
He likes the attention, head tilting back slightly. Logan's hair isn't nearly as long, so it's not like it'll take an unearthly amount of time to get it clean, but the touch is affectionate, so of course he basks in it.
As earlier stated, Logan's hair only stays down when wet. Gel and hairspray seem not to work on the little spikes that are his trademark.
He purrs lowly, pleased. ] Rinse, too.
painfully so!
...Logan, where is your conditioner? Don't feel me you don't use any.
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Driving a truck listening to John Denver, wearing flannel. THIS is why people think you're a top. But good on you for not conforming to stereotypes.
If I'm gonna use your shower often, I intend to bring product.
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[ Drying himself off, he keeps his feet on the carpet. Logan takes precursory sniffs of himself and lets out a self-satisfied noise about Jean-Paul's scent lingering pleasantly. ]
Hn... you can bring whatever you want, too. Tons of space.
[ When Jean-Paul walks out, Logan tosses the towel at him. ]
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[He catches the towel and dries off quickly, moving to hang it up before he steps close to Logan. He wraps his arms around him and nuzzles his neck.]
Warrior wit' a poet's soul. That's you. My big ol' kitty cat.
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