VM fic: Hot Shots (Logan/Duncan) R
Title: Hot Shots
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: R (sexual situations)
Pairings: Duncan/Logan (slash)
Warnings: angst
Length: ~900 words
Spoilers: none
Summary: The shot is almost an afterthought. Logan's moans are more intoxicating than tequila has ever been.
Author’s Notes: In my head, this is a sequel to Mission Impossible, but there's not much here that really indicates that. The next one will tie them all together.
Shot #1
Duncan licks the salt off his hand with a grimace and takes the first shot. It's harsh going down and burns everything in its wake. He's never been a huge fan of tequila.
Logan hands him the lemon with a smile, and, as usual, he's about five shots ahead. Duncan glares at him before biting down, and wonders where Dick and Cassidy disappeared to. It seems he's arrived late to the party. Again.
Shot #2
The second shot is a little easier, and Logan is looking at him with a heat in his eyes that Duncan's trying to ignore. He takes a seat on the couch, preparing for the buzz that's about ten minutes away.
Logan's head is back, and he's got that mischievous grin on his face that makes Duncan love and hate him all at the same time.
Logan hands him another shot and pours one for himself.
Shot #3
Somehow, Logan's spilled tequila all over, and Duncan swallows his shot hastily as Logan strips off his damp shirt with a maniacal laugh.
Duncan looks away as Logan takes the salt off the table and pours it liberally over his chest and abdomen. "Look," he says with a drunken, lusty light in his eyes. "Salt lick!"
The tequila starts to kick in, and suddenly the party is looking up.
Shot #4
Logan trails a finger through the salt on his chest and holds it out like an offering. Duncan can't think of one good reason not to take it.
Under the grit of the salt Duncan imagines he can feel the delicate ridges of flesh on Logan's finger, and he traces each whorl with his tongue as if he can commit Logan to memory.
There's barely a trace of salt left when he finally swallows the shot; it burns away the warm, sweet flavor of Logan's skin.
Shot #5
Tequila makes him fuzzy and daring, and no one's around to see when he bends and licks salt from Logan's stomach. He's not sure it would matter if they were, but he's vaguely aware that it's better this way.
Logan moans softly as Duncan's tongue traces the line of his khakis, picking up errant flecks of salt, and Duncan is abruptly hot all over. He can feel the flush in his face and the heat low in his belly that is sliding inevitably toward his cock.
The shot is almost an afterthought. Logan's moans are more intoxicating than tequila has ever been.
Shot #6
He's never done this before-never wanted to. He doesn't really want to now, but he'll do anything if Logan will just keep moaning like that.
He's surprised to find that Logan doesn't taste like much of anything. A few experimental licks make Logan shudder and grip the couch arm, and Duncan decides it's an acceptable return on the dubious position of being on his knees in front of his best friend.
When Duncan finally slides his lips over Logan's cock it's totally worth it, because Logan arches up and makes the hottest sounds Duncan's ever heard, and he finds that he's painfully hard.
He moves slowly at first, getting used to the feel of Logan on his tongue, in his mouth, the texture of him as he slides slowly up and down and finds a rhythm.
It's sloppy and awkward, but he must be doing something right because Logan's hand is in his hair and those soft, stuttering moans are still coming-faster and sharper as Duncan speeds up. Logan's fingers tighten and Duncan feels it a moment too late. He gags on the thick saltiness of Logan's come before he falls back and Logan's hand slips away.
He's coughing, suddenly, and Logan's laughing at him and yanking him up to sit on the couch again. Before Duncan can say anything, Logan pushes his chin back and pours a shot into his mouth. It dribbles over his lips the way Logan's come did just seconds before, and Duncan has to swallow or drown. The taste of tequila burns away the strange taste of Logan and makes it easier to ignore the vague heat of humiliation.
Shot #7
When Logan grabs his shirt, Duncan's too drunk to do anything but fall forward; he's only too happy to open his mouth when Logan's lips find his.
Logan tastes good-familiar, even though they've never done this before. It's infinitely more personal than their short history of drunken hand-jobs, and Duncan feels like he's coming unraveled. He leans forward, searching with his tongue, his hands, trying to get as much as he can before Logan laughs this off, too.
Logan throws him back after a moment and Duncan falls painfully against the arm of the couch. But the pain is forgotten as Logan pulls at Duncan's pants, worming a hand inside.
Duncan closes his eyes as Logan grabs his cock. It's rougher than usual, and Duncan's cries are only half pleasure as Logan brings him sharply to the edge. Too soon he's gasping wordlessly and gripping at the cushions.
They're still for a few moments, both of them breathing a little too hard, and Duncan winces when Logan removes his hand.
Everything is quiet as Logan pours them each another shot.
Author: Shealynn88
Rating: R (sexual situations)
Pairings: Duncan/Logan (slash)
Warnings: angst
Length: ~900 words
Spoilers: none
Summary: The shot is almost an afterthought. Logan's moans are more intoxicating than tequila has ever been.
Author’s Notes: In my head, this is a sequel to Mission Impossible, but there's not much here that really indicates that. The next one will tie them all together.
Shot #1
Duncan licks the salt off his hand with a grimace and takes the first shot. It's harsh going down and burns everything in its wake. He's never been a huge fan of tequila.
Logan hands him the lemon with a smile, and, as usual, he's about five shots ahead. Duncan glares at him before biting down, and wonders where Dick and Cassidy disappeared to. It seems he's arrived late to the party. Again.
Shot #2
The second shot is a little easier, and Logan is looking at him with a heat in his eyes that Duncan's trying to ignore. He takes a seat on the couch, preparing for the buzz that's about ten minutes away.
Logan's head is back, and he's got that mischievous grin on his face that makes Duncan love and hate him all at the same time.
Logan hands him another shot and pours one for himself.
Shot #3
Somehow, Logan's spilled tequila all over, and Duncan swallows his shot hastily as Logan strips off his damp shirt with a maniacal laugh.
Duncan looks away as Logan takes the salt off the table and pours it liberally over his chest and abdomen. "Look," he says with a drunken, lusty light in his eyes. "Salt lick!"
The tequila starts to kick in, and suddenly the party is looking up.
Shot #4
Logan trails a finger through the salt on his chest and holds it out like an offering. Duncan can't think of one good reason not to take it.
Under the grit of the salt Duncan imagines he can feel the delicate ridges of flesh on Logan's finger, and he traces each whorl with his tongue as if he can commit Logan to memory.
There's barely a trace of salt left when he finally swallows the shot; it burns away the warm, sweet flavor of Logan's skin.
Shot #5
Tequila makes him fuzzy and daring, and no one's around to see when he bends and licks salt from Logan's stomach. He's not sure it would matter if they were, but he's vaguely aware that it's better this way.
Logan moans softly as Duncan's tongue traces the line of his khakis, picking up errant flecks of salt, and Duncan is abruptly hot all over. He can feel the flush in his face and the heat low in his belly that is sliding inevitably toward his cock.
The shot is almost an afterthought. Logan's moans are more intoxicating than tequila has ever been.
Shot #6
He's never done this before-never wanted to. He doesn't really want to now, but he'll do anything if Logan will just keep moaning like that.
He's surprised to find that Logan doesn't taste like much of anything. A few experimental licks make Logan shudder and grip the couch arm, and Duncan decides it's an acceptable return on the dubious position of being on his knees in front of his best friend.
When Duncan finally slides his lips over Logan's cock it's totally worth it, because Logan arches up and makes the hottest sounds Duncan's ever heard, and he finds that he's painfully hard.
He moves slowly at first, getting used to the feel of Logan on his tongue, in his mouth, the texture of him as he slides slowly up and down and finds a rhythm.
It's sloppy and awkward, but he must be doing something right because Logan's hand is in his hair and those soft, stuttering moans are still coming-faster and sharper as Duncan speeds up. Logan's fingers tighten and Duncan feels it a moment too late. He gags on the thick saltiness of Logan's come before he falls back and Logan's hand slips away.
He's coughing, suddenly, and Logan's laughing at him and yanking him up to sit on the couch again. Before Duncan can say anything, Logan pushes his chin back and pours a shot into his mouth. It dribbles over his lips the way Logan's come did just seconds before, and Duncan has to swallow or drown. The taste of tequila burns away the strange taste of Logan and makes it easier to ignore the vague heat of humiliation.
Shot #7
When Logan grabs his shirt, Duncan's too drunk to do anything but fall forward; he's only too happy to open his mouth when Logan's lips find his.
Logan tastes good-familiar, even though they've never done this before. It's infinitely more personal than their short history of drunken hand-jobs, and Duncan feels like he's coming unraveled. He leans forward, searching with his tongue, his hands, trying to get as much as he can before Logan laughs this off, too.
Logan throws him back after a moment and Duncan falls painfully against the arm of the couch. But the pain is forgotten as Logan pulls at Duncan's pants, worming a hand inside.
Duncan closes his eyes as Logan grabs his cock. It's rougher than usual, and Duncan's cries are only half pleasure as Logan brings him sharply to the edge. Too soon he's gasping wordlessly and gripping at the cushions.
They're still for a few moments, both of them breathing a little too hard, and Duncan winces when Logan removes his hand.
Everything is quiet as Logan pours them each another shot.