[ 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.
[ Still, the nuzzling makes him purr again. Logan nudges at Jean-Paul's brow with his nose to get him to pull back a bit, then kisses him on the lips, hands settling on his waist just to tickle a little.
When he pulls away, he walks backwards into the bedroom again and tugs Jean-Paul with him. ]
You [ kiss ] have to put pants on. Sometimes I get kids knockin' in the morning.
Dinner. [ He pulls a new set of underwear on, and then some striped pyjama pants. ] You want me to come in suit and tie?
[ Because he hasn't forgotten. In direct contrast to fancy whatever, though, Logan pulls a plain shirt on. He shakes his head quickly, stray drops of water flicking in all directions, and then leaves his hair to pop back up into their regular points. ]
[Jean-Paul doesn't smile a lot in public, unless he's off skiing or flying or something of that sort. Smirk, sure, but the dawning look of pure delight he gives Logan at the very mention of a suit is not something anybody else is likely to see.]
If you want to. I wasn't going to make it that formal, but. ...there's a good Italian place. Not too pretentious.
[The very second he flops down Jean-Paul is curled around him.]
Stupid hair. I have one hundred percent made fun of it, oh, a billion times? Over the years. Joke's on me, now I think it looks great. God I hate myself, sometimes.
I promise you'll find somet'ing that you like. And there's good wine.
[ Off-handedly, Logan comments, ] I like peach wine.
[ He dips his head to kiss the top of Jean-Paul's, though, an arm wrapping protectively around him, holding him close. ]
We'll go tomorrow. [ His middle finger traces light circles into Jean-Paul's belly, arm slung lazily. ] An' I'll wear the suit. But the hair really can't go down.
Really? I'll buy you some. [Because to Jean-Paul it's that easy. Logan likes a thing? He will get the thing. He doesn't stop to consider how people might view this casual show of wealth, or that maybe Logan's not going to want to get everything he asks for.]
Okay. Mmmmm. I don't mind. ...suit'll be nice. [His eyes close, his body apparently deciding it should sleep.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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[ Still, the nuzzling makes him purr again. Logan nudges at Jean-Paul's brow with his nose to get him to pull back a bit, then kisses him on the lips, hands settling on his waist just to tickle a little.
When he pulls away, he walks backwards into the bedroom again and tugs Jean-Paul with him. ]
You [ kiss ] have to put pants on. Sometimes I get kids knockin' in the morning.
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[He grins at the tickling, then follows, eyebrow raised a little.]
Mmmm. Can't traumatise them. [He sits on the freshly made bed, ignoring the request.]
I'll be up before the kids anyway. I've got to be in the office for nine. You wanna get dinner tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out.
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[ Because he hasn't forgotten. In direct contrast to fancy whatever, though, Logan pulls a plain shirt on. He shakes his head quickly, stray drops of water flicking in all directions, and then leaves his hair to pop back up into their regular points. ]
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If you want to. I wasn't going to make it that formal, but. ...there's a good Italian place. Not too pretentious.
...goddamn I love your stupid hair.
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So he snorts and sits on the bed instead, then thumps his back onto it. ]
I like the pasta with milk in it. [ His brows furrow. ] ...is that real Italian? Hn.
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Stupid hair. I have one hundred percent made fun of it, oh, a billion times? Over the years. Joke's on me, now I think it looks great. God I hate myself, sometimes.
I promise you'll find somet'ing that you like. And there's good wine.
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[ He dips his head to kiss the top of Jean-Paul's, though, an arm wrapping protectively around him, holding him close. ]
We'll go tomorrow. [ His middle finger traces light circles into Jean-Paul's belly, arm slung lazily. ] An' I'll wear the suit. But the hair really can't go down.
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Okay. Mmmmm. I don't mind. ...suit'll be nice. [His eyes close, his body apparently deciding it should sleep.]
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