Fic: "Torque", Scott/Logan, PG13.

Apr 24, 2006 21:26

Author: Sionnain
Title: Torque
Challenge: Apology
Universe: Movie (post X2)
Characters: Scott/Logan
Rating: PG13
Word count: 715
Summary: Pressure creates force. Force is never as much fun from a distance.

AN: Thanks to Lady_Draherm for the beta!



Torque

Scott walked into the garage, biting back a few choice words as he saw Wolverine dismounting from his motorcycle. Again. They practically had a showroom of luxury vehicles in there, and which one did that annoying bastard inevitably steal?

“You know, Logan, the Professor does pay us a salary. You could always get one of your own.”

Logan sauntered over to him, that smirk on his face that made Scott really, really want to hit him. Hard. “Why would I spend money on one when I got yours?”

“Because you don’t got mine, Logan,” Scott said very slowly, in the same sort of voice one used with an errant toddler. That was, in Scott’s opinion, an apt description of Logan’s emotional intelligence. “You take it without asking, which is called stealing.”

“But I bring it back, which is called returning,” Logan drawled infuriatingly. “Ain’t stealin’ it if I’m bringin’ it back, Summers.”

“Your demented logic aside, would you please stop taking my bike?” It was a useless request, but Scott made it anyway because he always did. “I don’t see you stealing the Professor’s Bentley.”

“You ever think it weird, Summers, you bein’ a grown man and all, callin’ another grown man Professor?” Logan grinned, completely unabashed. “I think it’s weird.”

“Well, isn’t that just great. Seeing as how I care so much what you think,” Scott snapped, his jaw so tight he was fairly sure his teeth might crack under the pressure. He held his hand out. “Give me my keys.”

Logan dangled them over Scott’s open palm, then snatched them up just as Scott’s fingers brushed the metal. “No,” Wolverine taunted, his expression one of pure, unholy glee.

“Logan,” Scott started, fingers going to touch the frame of his glasses warningly. This did not have the desired effect; instead of looking concerned, Logan merely rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Summers, seems to me like you might just want to stop with the laser beams every once in a while. Like I really think you’re gonna laser my ass in the middle of the garage with all of Chuck’s cars-”

“They’re optic blasts, not laser beams.” With that, Scott reached back and hit him, hard, right in the face with a nice, tight closed fist. The feel of his knuckles striking Wolverine’s mouth was just about the nicest thing Scott had felt in weeks. “Hey,” he said, shaking his hand, grinning at the look of disbelief on Logan’s face. “That’s the best advice you’ve ever given me, Logan. Thanks.”

Logan’s tongue came out and wiped at the blood on the bottom of his lip, swollen from Scott’s fist. “Don’t mention it. Nice to know I’m good for somethin’.”

Before Scott could think of something appropriately caustic with which to respond, Logan reached forward and hauled him closer with a hand fisted in Scott’s shirt, kissing him with that bloody, bruised mouth. His teeth were sharp and his mouth was hot, and all of sudden Scott felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, but not really in a bad way, which didn’t actually make any sense.

Scott kissed him back, wondering why the copper-sweet tang of blood didn’t repulse him like it should. Wondering why kissing Logan didn’t repulse him like it should. What the hell was he doing? Why were his hands in Wolverine’s hair, why was he making that strangled sound that sounded suspiciously like a moan…?

Before he could reason it out, Logan pushed him away and moved towards the door, throwing the keys over his shoulder. Scott caught them reflexively, still rooted to the floor. Behind his glasses, his eyes were very wide, his breath coming hard and fast like he’d just finished a session in the Danger Room.

“Sorry I took your bike, Cyclops,” Wolverine growled, his hand on the doorknob as he paused, his lean, muscular body tense and poised as if for battle.

“No, you’re not sorry, Logan.” Scott answered huskily, trying not to think about Logan’s lean, muscular body anymore. “Sorry I hit you.”

“No, you’re really not, Summers,” Wolverine responded, looking back over his shoulder. His look was hot and animalistic-it suddenly made Scott want to hit him again.

Yes. That’s what I want to do to him again. Hit him.

He wondered if Wolverine was going to apologize for kissing him. He didn’t; he just pulled the door open and went inside the house without another word, leaving Scott alone in the garage.

Scott walked over to the bike, unsurprised to find it was nearly empty of gas. Some things would never change.

xmenflashfic, xmmf, scott/logan

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