Disclaimer: The X-men and their world belongs to Marvel/Fox. No profit or copyright infringement is intended
NOTE: This story is Movie-verse AU
Logan had staked out a spot just inside the door, near a potted palm, next to the security. The room was crowded and noisy and there were far too many cameras. He knew he could leave and meet Warren later but he'd been curious. Curious to see what Warren's life like was like when he wasn't at the mansion, curious to see what Warren was like. It was clear he was in his element here - even with the press throwing rapid-fire questions at him in a clear attempt to rattle him, Warren was calm and collected, quick with a smile and he knew the names of everyone in the room. Logan could see his east coast upbringing in the rapid fire responses and the occasional biting irony.
Logan knew that some of Warren's speech had been pre-prepared but even he couldn't tell. He didn't know if Warren's publicity team had somehow choreographed things with the reporters or if they'd been able to predict the questions or if Warren was just that good at managing the crowd. Logan guessed it was all three.
The press conference was only a half hour long but even for Logan it felt like forever.
Warren was finishing up. "I promise you that there is no one who takes this more seriously than I do. Worthington Industries has been in my family for generations. I have no 'golden parachute' waiting in the sidelines for when times get tough and no intention of abandoning my companies or my employees. I'm confident that the investigations occurring now in Spain will prove my company free of any illegalities. Worthington Industries is fully compliant with the Spanish mutant quota law. We are a partner of the Spanish government, not an adversary. This isn't about winning but about finding the best way to serve the citizens and consumers of that country."
Which was a very nice spin on what was nothing more than extortion from the Spanish government. Logan knew Warren was incensed by the government's investigations but there was nothing but earnest concern on his face now.
Logan was briefly separated from Warren by the crowd of reporters but he knew where the car was and took the stairs to the garage. The reek of gasoline made him nauseous and Logan hurried to where the car was parked. He could see Warren ahead, walking swiftly and talking quietly to someone.
"Hey - !" Logan called, swinging around a pillar.
Warren was suddenly shoved aside by his companion and Logan was diving back behind the pillar at the abrupt gleam of a gun barrel. His claws flicked free and he swung around the other side of the pillar, ready to charge.
"No!" Warren was shouting. "Neil - Logan - ! Stop!"
Logan pulled up abruptly, breathing hard. Warren was kneeling behind a car, where he'd been shoved and Logan was staring into a heavy duty pistol. Somewhere behind the looming gun barrel was a long limbed, cold-eyed man, watching him steadily. Warren stood, brushing himself off as Neil put his gun away. Logan straightened up from his crouch and his claws slid home.
"Neil -" Warren said dryly. "This is Logan, a friend of mine. Logan, this is Neil - my bodyguard."
"Sorry, Mr. Worthington." The man said, giving Logan a hard once over - especially at his hands.
"Didn't mean t'scare ya." Logan said.
"Didn't scare me." Neil muttered.
Logan grinned. "Startle ya then."
The bodyguard only grunted. Logan could see that Warren was hiding a grin as he straightened out his coat.
"That was - somethin'" Logan said. "That press conference of yers."
"It certainly wasn't mine." Warren said wearily, turning back to his car. Logan fell into step beside him while Neil dropped back a pace or two.
"Looked like y'had them eatin' outa yer hands."
"Wasn't quite that simple, unfortunately." Warren said. "They treat me well because I always give them something to work with."
Warren's driver opened the door and, somewhat uncomfortably, Logan climbed in after while Neil went to take the other front seat. The interior of the car was soft dove gray leather and Warren sank into it tiredly. Logan settled in, inhaling the scent of leather, wool, and the warm sensual scent of Warren himself. No matter what the man was wearing, Logan was always able to pick out that scent, beneath any cologne, beneath any other clothes. Warm and odd - faintly non-mammalian. It was the feathers. Every time Logan caught that scent, he longed to bury his face in the imagined warmth and softness. He swallowed hard, in the enclosed space of the car, the scent and the urge was nearly overwhelming.
Warren leaned forward for a moment. "Randal, could we go to the park?"
The driver nodded and the big car swung around. Warren settled back with anther sigh, letting his head fall back onto the seat and shutting his eyes.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Logan watched the city pass on the other side of the tinted windows, breathed in the scent of the man beside him and just - rested. Despite Warren's ruthless schedule - the man was usually up by six am and hard at work until eight or nine - despite the sometimes almost painful ache of desire, and the fact that Warren was a strong personality, there was something steadying about being with him. Logan knew he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Scott and Jean leaned heavily on Warren's stabilizing presence at times. Sometimes it made Logan angry to see it, as if the two were somehow taking advantage of Warren. He was grateful that he'd had enough smarts to avoid butting in there. The years and the emotions between the three of them ran deep and long. Logan glanced at Warren's clean profile. Whatever he was to Warren - whatever he might be - he would have to find a way to accept the man's ties to Jean and Scott.
Logan reached over and put his hand on top of Warren's. Warren looked over at him, blonde hair spilling across his forehead. In the relative dimness of the car, his eyes were a rich blue like lapis, deep as the ocean. Logan felt Warren move his hand to twine his long fingers with his. Logan swallowed. Whatever Scott and Jean had with Warren - he was the one here now.
The 'park' turned out to be Grand Central, somewhere Logan had never bothered to go. He didn't figure it would be much - a bunch of grass in the middle of the city - but it wasn't that bad. And the day was crisp and beautiful and he watched Warren shining like a miracle in the sun while he bought them both bags of roast chestnuts.
"Here -" Warren smiled at him, handing over the oily paper bag.
The chestnuts were hot and greasy and very good, Logan cracked them in his fingers while Warren peeled them fastidiously, frowning faintly at the grease on his hands. Logan grinned, watching him.
They walked for a while, tending away from the crowds, not talking much. Logan watched Warren watch the crowds. The man was always thinking and so close-mouthed about himself - they'd been around each other fairly often for a couple of months and Logan still wasn't sure why Warren bothered. It wasn't like they had a lot in common. For a guy who could stand up in front of twenty people for an hour and talk, Warren was real difficult to pin down. Logan snorted softly to himself, probably all that practice.
Warren glanced over at him, eyes the exact same shade as the clear October sky and Logan felt the sudden rush of want rise up in him again. He wanted Warren - badly. And he knew the man wanted him back, he'd known it since the first morning they'd met. And they hadn't done a damn thing about it. Warren's smile made his body ache and Logan saw the way Warren's clear eyes darkened, full of the same hunger. Logan shifted, bumping against Warren lightly. The feel of him, even between two sets of clothes, turned him on even more and frustrated the hell out of him because they were in a public park and there wasn't nothing more they were going to do.
"I know a place -" Warren said, voice deeper than usual. "- you might like it."
Logan found himself trailing behind as Warren strode off, then caught up with a low growl to catch sight of a fading flush on the man's face and the scent of his desire.
"God dammit, Warren -" Logan said roughly. "Y'drivin' me fuckin' nuts."
All he wanted right now was a place to be alone.
But Warren smiled at him and Logan couldn't do anything but go along. For now.
They went deeper into the park, past a small lake, then came to a brick wall. Trees hung heavy over the walls, mostly slender birches and shadows chilled the air. Warren walked along it until they ran across a wrought iron gate and he pushed it open.
"What's this place?" Logan asked, wondering if it was some private part of the park that only rich people got to use. The place seemed empty.
Wide brickwork paths wound through raised beds full of mostly dormant roses and bare shrubs with bright red branches. It was quiet and Logan couldn't smell anyone nearby.
"The sunken garden." Warren said. "It's not very popular this time of year because the flowers aren't blooming and it can be chilly."
They wandered a little deeper. It was colder here, shady so the occasional flashes of sunlight were brilliant surprises. The air smelled of damp earth and old brick and the shifting breezes occasionally brought him the warm, musky scent of Warren. The brick paths spiraled down to an open center surrounded by white birch trees.
"I used to come hide here when I was a child." Warren said, stopping to look up at the sky through the golden leaves. "The gardeners here are all volunteers and they'd let me help sometimes. Not that I really enjoyed all that digging in the dirt - and bugs - but they'd let me stay and didn't care who I was. In the summer, the place is heavy with roses and the bees humming in the shrubs. It's my favorite part of the park."
Logan thought of the pond they'd passed, and the merry-go-round full of laughing children, and the boy who'd chosen to come here instead. He wondered what Warren had looked like as a child - beautiful probably - golden haired and blue eyed. Had he been solemn or happy? The wind picked up briefly and the birch leaves blew around them like a fall of gold coins. They tangled in Warren's golden hair and settled on his coat. Logan reached up to brush them off but his hand settled on the taller man's shoulder instead. Warren didn't move when he took that last step closer.
"Wings - " Logan paused, swallowed, staring into those true blue eyes. He felt like he was drowning, like he couldn't catch his breath. "Y'know I want ya and y'want me too. Y'can't fake me out. How much longer do we gotta wait fer what we both want?"
"No longer." Warren said and reached to cradle Logan's face in his hands, his long fingers cool on Logan's flushed skin. "Not any longer."
Logan's hand closed spasmodically on Warren's shoulder when the other man dipped his head and kissed him. There was just the briefest hesitation, warm lips barely touching his, then Logan groaned mouth opening, searching. Warren was breathlessly demanding, warm and wet, the press of his tongue welcome. The taste of him a shock Logan could feel right down to his cock stiffening in his jeans. Warren's thumb rubbed along his jaw, such a small touch to make Logan so dizzy with pleasure. He fumbled his way into Warren's coat, dragging the other man close, hand spreading over the hard muscles of his back and ass.
Warren groaned into his mouth, the kiss deepening, frantic - almost desperate - and so, so sweet. It was like dying, the rush of heat and his beating heart and the clench of Warren's hands in his hair. His heart was going like a drum and Warren - Warren was trembling against him. Vision sparkling with the need to breath, Logan dragged his mouth from Warren's.
"Do you have plans for this afternoon?" Warren breathed against Logan's ear, cultured voice rough with desire. His fingers were searching through Logan's hair, stroking across his cheekbones. Logan caught a fingertip in his mouth, nipped and Warren gasped.
Logan's breath hitched, to hear that hunger in the other man's voice. "Christ on a bike - y'gotta fucking ask? No I ain't got no plans."
Warren finally drew back, swallowing hard. Logan's eyes were dark, his grip hard and he watched Logan breathe deep. Smelling him, Warren realized. Smelling how aroused he was, though pressed as close as they were, there could be little doubt.
"My home is close." Warren said, flushing a little. He didn't want to wait and go back to the mansion. He barely wanted to wait long enough to get somewhere private. He didn't want to share this - share Logan - with a houseful of telepaths and empaths.
Logan grunted softly then abruptly dragged Warren's head down for another hard kiss. Warren's fingers scrabbled for purchase on the cool leather of Logan's coat and, pulse racing, he gave an entirely undignified thrust and twist of his hips - desperate to get closer. Only when he was thoroughly breathless did Logan let him go.
"Let's go." Logan said, with a satisfied smirk.
Warren glared at him, seeing the amused gleam in his eyes as pulled his coat closed and buttoned it. His pulse throbbed in his throat and between his legs. "We can walk."
He told Randal by phone that he'd be walking home and if Neil protested, he had the pleasure of not knowing. Walking gave him a chance to collect himself though Logan's close presence didn't make it easy. The chill in the air only made him more aware of his own heat and hunger. Warren picked up his pace a bit, eager to be home.
The brownstone was only three blocks away from the park - it had been hugely expensive to purchase and was one of his major indulgences. He loved Central Park and, if he had to live in the city, he was going to live by it. The old oak trees lining the wide street he lived on were nearly bare, the drift of brown leaves filling the gutters and crunching under their feet. Logan looked around, interestedly, at the relative quiet of the street and the peaceful, old buildings.
"Ya live here all the time?"
"No." Warren led the way up the steps and unlocked the door, hearing Logan crunching noisily behind him. "Just when I'm on the East Coast. There's the ancestral monstrosity in Connecticut but I rarely go there. I've been spending a fair amount of time on the West Coast recently and I have a home in Northern California, out in the country and a corporate apartment when I have to be in the city. I hate Los Angeles."
"Good afternoon, Anna." Warren said, handing his coat to her. Logan did as well, after a brief pause.
"Where do you want lunch, Mr. Worthington?" Anna asked, taking Logan's biker jacket without a flicker of curiosity or surprise.
"Later," Warren headed to the stairs. "Could you please leave lunch for two outside my door - later."
Logan followed close behind him, pressing a warm hand to the small of his back, Warren shuddered, wings flexing in their restraints. "Y'ain't bein' too private about all this."
"How am I going to do that?" Warren asked, glancing at him. "They serve my meals, wash my clothes. They know who I take into my bedroom - and when. There's no point in keeping those secrets. It's difficult enough to keep my wings private from most of my servants."
The entire top floor was his bedroom. Jeffery had gutted the inner walls and stripped the plaster down to the original brickwork. Skylights in addition to the tall, narrow windows, flooded the long room with sunlight and Jeffrey's people had furnished and sparsely decorated it in craftsman era antiques.
Warren barely got the door shut before Logan was on him. The other man pushed him against the wall, leaning against Warren, mouth fastening hard on his. Warren just surrendered himself for a moment to the demanding hands jerking his coat open and the insistent stroke of Logan's tongue. It felt so good, the heat and weight driving everything else out of his mind but his hunger - and Logan's. Logan was making a soft rumbling sound deep in his throat and as he shifted against him Warren could feel the hard press of his erection against his thigh. Warren combed his fingers through Logan's thick, dark hair and groaned when Logan nipped at his lower lip. Breathless, Warren rubbed his tongue over Logan's sharp canines and pushed his leather jacket off then broke off to gasp for breath while Logan bit his chin lightly.
"Got to -" Warren pushed at Logan. His wings ached for freedom, he wanted Logan to touch him there. God, he longed for it. Warren slid out from under Logan, stepping over his discarded jacket. "Be right back."
Warren went into his bathroom and stripped hurriedly. It was the harness that was always a problem. Watching him struggle with it and resettle his crumpled wings wasn't particularly erotic and - years after his parent's death - he was still ashamed and the harness always reminded him of that. He shook the memories off as he shook his wings into order with a silken rustle.
Padding back to his bedroom naked, he paused. Logan was stripping and the heavy ache between Warren's legs deepened watching him. The dark hair spread across Logan's chest ran in a thick line to the dense cloud of pubic hair and the heavy sway of his partially hard sex. Warren felt his mouth water at the sight; eyeing the flushed tip and the sensuous weight of his scrotum.
It scared him sometimes, how badly he wanted this man and Warren shifted, wings fluttering nervously. Logan glanced at him with an unexpectedly gentle half-smile and then Warren wasn't frightened anymore. Warren went over and ran his hands up Logan's arms. He dug his fingers into hard muscle and brushed his lips across Logan's ear. His sex twitched at this first touch of Logan's skin, the rough texture of his body hair, the heat of him, the flex of powerful muscles under his hands.
"Logan -" He whispered. He'd planned on saying something seductive but when Logan brushed the tips of his fingers down his side and traced his hipbone, Warren could only pant in the man's ear. His whole body tingled with longing, his nipples tightened until they ached. He pushed - no, rubbed - himself against Logan, sliding his hands over the wide shoulders and down his back. Logan groaned against his neck in appreciation, fingers digging into his buttocks to drag him closer. Warren traced the defined muscles in Logan's back with firm fingers, thumbnail scratching teasingly down his spine. Logan gasped, sex twitching against Warren's hip and bit his neck lightly.
"oh, my god -" Warren whispered, clutching at Logan as the sharp prick of his teeth sent a dizzy shock of pleasure through him. His wings jerked in response, along with his erection, body arching against Logan as the man ran a hand up Warren's back, fingertips exploring the joint of his wing and the downy feathers there. Logan found the sensitive spot at the join of neck and shoulder and the graze and nip of his teeth was just the sensation - along with Logan's fingertips ruffling his feathers - to send Warren spiraling higher. He swayed, nearly losing his balance, wings beating as he moaned into Logan's hair.
Warren slid his shaking hands down the length
of Logan's back, cupping the hard curve of his buttocks. He explored gently,
thumb pressing at the base of his spine, two fingers sliding along the warm
crease. "Yes - no?"
"Ah - " Logan growled low in his throat and licked Warren's neck. He clutched at Warren's wing as he arched against Warren's hands, spreading his legs slightly. "Yes-s - god, yes."
"Mmmhm." Warren kissed his way along Logan's jawline, stubble rough against his lips. The taste of Logan's skin was an irresistible temptation and Warren bit at the pulse beating hard at the base of his throat then sucked, wet and hungry. Logan panted in his arms, sex throbbing eagerly between them. Warren nudged him a gentle step back and they stumbled towards the bed, neither willing to let go long of each other. Finally, they scrambled awkwardly onto the bed and Logan pulled Warren down on top of him.
Warren caught Logan's mouth in his again, greedy for the taste and heat of him. He rocked, sex rubbing in the dark hair trailing down Logan's belly while the other man writhed and moaned under him. Warren bit Logan's exploring tongue, then his lip, scratching lightly down Logan's sides with his fingernails. Logan surged strongly under him, Warren laughed softly, wings fluttering to keep himself on top.
"God, you feel so good." He breathed. Logan was hard and powerful under him; his sex was pressed against Warren's belly and the hot silky throb of it was a startling, beautiful contrast to the rough/soft rasp of his hairy chest and belly. Warren rubbed his fingertips through Logan's scratchy sideburns, meeting those gold flecked dark eyes. The lust in them made Warren shiver and flush with an answering hunger, his sex pulsed urgently between them. There was a vulnerability in them too and a longing that was more than physical.
Warren rested his forehead against Logan's, stroking his fingers along the strong bones of his face. His swallowed hard then kissed Logan gently, lips tracing the bridge of his nose, the curve of a cheekbone, brushing over the flutter of Logan's eyelids. He had no idea how to answer the question he could see in Logan's eyes. He wanted Logan - so badly that he couldn't think of anything else but he didn't know what else he could offer the other man. He was perfect - supposedly - at many things but relationships had never been one of them.
Logan reached up and pressed his fingers against Warren's mouth. "Don't wanna talk. Not now."
With a shuddering sigh, Warren licked his fingers.
Warren explored Logan's body. He traced the strong line of his collarbone with the tip of his tongue, licked the dark hair covering those massive pectorals and smiled against Logan's hot skin when the man cried out at the touch of his lips on his small, hard nipples. Warren sucked on them, feeling the flesh crinkle tighter against his tongue and rapid pounding of Logan's heart. He discovered - to his delight - that Logan was ticklish. His urgent excitement was making it hard to think, hard to do anything besides feel, he was almost painfully hard. Logan eased a broad thigh between his legs and rubbed against his sex with an encouraging, wordless rumble.
Warren clutched at the sheets, breath leaving him in a shocked keen, wings sweeping up to cover them both for a moment. He thrust, panting, buried his face in Logan's chest and rode the wonderful pressure against his aching sex. It was so good. So good.
"God - Logan - " He moaned, shifting for more leverage, grinding urgently against him. The heat was building, tense and urgent in the small of his back and the muscles of his thighs and buttocks. Warren shuddered, bowing his head, blonde hair trailing across Logan's chest, and thrust hard - again.
"Yeah - c'mon - c'mon." Logan tugged at his shoulders and somewhat uncertainly at the broad upper span of his wings. Warren groaned and arched encouragingly. Logan ran his hands along the lean muscles of his wings, stroking the feathers and Warren folded them closer to let him touch. He panted shakily, lashes fluttering at the pleasure of being touched there - the part of him he allowed few people to see - as intimate as Logan putting his hand on Warren's sex.
"They're not particularly fragile." Warren breathed. Logan grumbled low in his throat and dragged a wing down to rub his face against the soft, insulating feathers at the crook of the wing. The hot breath ruffling his feathers, then the sudden unexpected nip of Logan's teeth made Warren's breath hitch and he writhed, whimpering in Logan's arms.
Warren's erection was steel hard and aching. He shifted until he could rub his sex against the hot, broad shaft of Logan's equally hard sex. Logan shuddered and rocked against him then he spread his legs and arched his pelvis suggestively. "I got what y'need. C'mon Warren."
Gasping, Warren scrabbled for the lubricant. It was cold on his flushed fingers and he warmed it in his palm as he bent to kiss the silken tip of Logan's erection. He licked at the wide head, suckling briefly, the taste of Logan's fluid making his mouth water. Logan groaned loudly as he licked his way down the twitching shaft and tongued the soft, furred scrotum. Warren murmured reassuringly against the throbbing flesh as he gently prepared Logan. He was tight and Warren took his time, stroking deep with two fingers until the other man was clutching the sheets and thrusting up to meet his exploring fingers. Warren watched him for a moment, gaze heavy with hunger and satisfaction as Logan arched, head thrown back and clearly eager for more.
He slicked himself down generously the wet sucking sound of his hand on his sex making Logan shift and pant. The Canadian drew his knees up, feet flat on the mattress, watching Warren through half closed eyes. Warren's sex shuddered in his hands at the sight.
Warren moved, bracing himself over Logan and pressed gently against him. For a long moment it seemed, despite all their best intentions, that it wasn't going to happen. Then Logan groaned a curse and shifted, twisting his hips and dragging hard at Warren's trembling arms.
"No -" Warren panted, sweat beading on his forehead. "Don't want to hurt -"
"Ah -" Logan cried out in pain and pleasure both, Warren echoed him as something yielded and he was sliding in. His wings snapped back then down, stirring the curtains and tangling in the sheets. In, deep - so impossibly in. Warren fought the rush of lust, the urge to just take, startled by his own ferocity.
Logan was tight. Warren moaned and stilled himself as he felt Logan shake under him. Then he rocked, helplessly, as Logan ran a hand down his sweating back. Heavy fingers dug into the small of his back, goading him into a demanding thrust. Again - again - as deep as he could.
"Ohhhh - yeah -" Logan breathed. His hands gripped Warren's buttocks hard, pulling him down - deeper - until Warren was buried in that impossible heat, panting against Logan's sweating neck.
Warren clung to the sheets, gasping. He felt consumed, utterly overwhelmed by Logan's strength and shuddering, fierce grip. He moved, small thrusts of his hips, still buried as far inside Logan as he could get. His eyes fluttered closed, Warren sank his teeth into the hard line of Logan's trapeziums, hanging on desperately as he felt his self control just sliding away. He wanted to own all the power under him, make all of Logan his. Logan's sex pulsed against his stomach, trapped between them, Warren could feel it leaking. Logan's breathing hitched every time he moved, fingers flexing on Warren's rear.
"God - so good - feels so g-good." Warren lifted his head slightly to pant in Logan's ear, licked it, bit him. He moved again, a rolling sensual thrust. Logan writhed under him. "Okay - good, yes? Logan?"
Logan growled incoherently and hooked one heel behind Warren's knee. Warren repeated the movement, a little harder. Logan arched up to meet him with a guttural cry.
"Yes -!" Warren gasped, shifting so he was sure to hit Logan just right. Just the way to make him moan in pleasure, spread his knees wide and arch up for more. Warren moved to rub a nipple teasingly with his thumb, head lifted to watch the play of sensations on Logan's face as he thrust slowly - almost lazily - into him.
Logan's pleasure was like a goad, he couldn't resist it. Warren sank into the rhythm of Logan's cries, his heavy breathing, the tight flexing grip around his sex. He settled into a slow, consuming rhythm, wings fluttering in unconscious echo. Both of them were breathing hard and in time, Logan's hands dragging him down, leaving bruises on his skin - urging him harder, faster, deeper.
Logan's hand was like a burning weight at the small of his back, reassuring and encouraging. Warren braced his knees on the mattress, almost frantic now, eyes closed, mouth open, voice rising as the pleasure rose - crested - overwhelmed him. Warren shouted, wings snapping back and up with a convulsive shudder as the ecstatic rush exploded out of him, hips surging. Logan shouted under him. The rhythmic clamp of Logan around his sex made Warren cry out harshly again as Logan came, spraying semen across both of their chests and bellies in wild release.
With a near sob, Warren collapsed on top of Logan, feeling the hard beating of his heart. His own heart was pounding, blood rushing so he felt almost dizzy. Utterly spent, quivering with the intensity of his orgasm, he couldn't remember ever feeling this good. So absolutely overwhelmed. Warren blinked dazedly, head nestled against Logan's shoulder, feeling the warm puddle of semen trapped between their bodies and the softening throb of Logan's sex. Warren shifted, relaxing, and his sex slid free of Logan's body, they both shivered.
Logan sighed deeply under him, shuddering and Warren ran a thumb along the strong curve of the other man's cheekbone. Logan turned to kiss his palm, tongue tickling him and Warren sighed, shutting his eyes. He was too tired to move and it felt good to just lie there, on top of Logan and feel him breathe. Warren shifted already drowsy, wings settling over them both and casting them into the pearly, translucent shadows of his feathers.