SCOGAN series, final chapter.
This one got a lot less attention than Part 4 on Y!Gal, which I think is kind of unfortunate, since IMHO the situation here is vastly more erotic. Oh well, people will like what they like.
To be fair, Part 4 is strictly formula for me, while I experimented a lot with this last chapter, mostly because at this point I was so desperate to just finish the damn series that I was willing to try anything. Some of it worked, some of it didn't. I'll leave you to decide which is which.
As was the case throughout this series. TheMadSlasher was an excellent sounding board for my ideas, and contributed some wonderful work of his own. In fact, I think one of the reasons I'm more insecure about this chapter than the others is that I posted it to Y!Gallery unbeta'd. What can I say, I was just so happy to be done that I lost my head a little.
Ah, well. Enjoy!
~*~
The bike roared through the woods and backroads of Westchester County, staying away from Salem Center proper. Just because Logan wanted Scott to throw his self-consciousness to the winds didn't mean either of them were OK with traumatizing kids or giving harmless old ladies a heart attack.
Even so, they weren't completely alone on the roads. The truckers who passed them by honked rudely, bar-hoppers flipped them off and sneered and snarled at the "faggots." But Logan seemed to hardly notice, even though Scott knew he was hearing every word.
So Scott pretended not to notice either...which was easy, all things considered. He was too busy concentrating on the way his naked lower half ground against Logan's, the hair there much softer than it felt as it brushed across his cock and balls. The heat of their bodies, pressed together atop the hot, rumbling, vibrating bike, fought against the chill of the wind that swept around their bared legs, and won...Scott's dick hadn't gone down since they'd taken off.
It was in that moment he knew how he wanted it to end. I don't want to die in a comfortable bed, stoned to the gills to keep from screaming in pain, watching my family and friends cry while secretly wishing I’d just get it the hell over with. I want it to be a hot summer day, or a night like tonight. I want to be riding one of these bikes, and I want it to be something I cannot avoid. I want to know this is it, and look at whatever it is that will end me and twist the throttle all the way open. I want to feel my bike torque into it, letting me know she’s glad to go with me. And I want my eyes wide open.
Of course, his practical side knew it wasn't likely to happen that way. His optic blasts would make quick work of any obstacle, and he was more likely to die leading a mission to save the world, or universe, or whatever, than doing something normal like riding a bike. But the fantasy was nice, in a morbid kind of way.
"We're here," Logan said over the roar of the machine, cutting off Scott's reverie.
He flipped the visor up from his helmet and looked around. They'd turned off the road a while ago, the sturdy tires and shocks of the bike keeping the ride smooth even through what apparently amounted to dirt paths through the woods. Now they came up on a picnic table by a lake, so isolated it might as well be the middle of nowhere. The lights from town were all but invisible here, the only light coming from the bright full moon that reflected off leather, flesh, and sweat.
Logan hopped off the bike and shucked his jacket in one smooth motion, tossing it onto the table as he crawled up on top of it, turning to face Scott wearing his boots, gloves, and a cocky smirk, and nothing else.
"Come on, Summers...ya been starin' at it fer years, now it's yers. Go ahead babe...fuck me. I want it, an' I know ya do too..."
And for a split-second, Scott felt like he couldn't move. The power of Logan's voice...those harsh, rough edges of need, mixed with the encouraging words. This was dirty talk, his brain processed that much...but it wasn't like the words from any of the people he'd been with before. Most had been perfectly willing to treat him like a thing, not to be spoken to, only used...the ones who didn't pile on the verbal abuse even as they availed themselves of his services.
But what Logan was saying wasn't like that. He was encouraging Scott, galvanizing him into action with his words...it made Scott so hot to listen to that deep, rough, masculine voice wash over him. Leaning over Logan, the taller man kissed him desperately.
"Keep talking, Logan...for God's sake, don't you dare shut up!"
The next few minutes were a blur of grinding, naked flesh and leather. Scott let out a constant string of moans as he writhed in Logan's gloved fist, hips churning and grinding his cock against the hot leather grip. Logan lunged for his neck, and the taller man turned his head to give the feral access to it. As Logan kissed and licked and nibbled the clean, smooth flesh, Scott held his head and neck very still...but from the waist down, he was writhing, practically lap-dancing for his feral lover.
After a moment of assault on Scott's neck and upper torso, Logan lay back again, his hands going to his thick legs and muscular ass, pulling them wide open to give Scott uninhibited access. There was no hesitation, no fear or resentment on his face, merely an inviting and ravenous grin. "C'mon Scotty...do what'cha always wanted. 'Cause fuck...right now, stud, I want it too!"
For once in his life, Scott didn't pause or second-guess, despite the 'Cyclops' instincts inside him clamoring to be heard. Words like 'self-control', 'discipline', and 'power' flashed through his mind, but were driven out by the sight of Logan, legs spread for him, that entire hirsuite, muscular, utterly fucking gorgeous body naked and open to Scott's touch. He ran his leather-clad hands over Logan's ass and legs, before sliding a single finger inside...exerting all his self-control not to hurt the man "You'll get it, Logan...God, do you have any idea what you do to me? What doing this with you means to me?"
The stocky man purred at the touch of Scott's gloves against his rock-solid flesh. The purr became a low growl at the feeling of the team leader's finger entering his body. His smirk, that defiant, arrogant, irresistible smirk, stayed glued on his face. "Yeah, it means somethin' ta me too..." he replies, remembering all those times he wanted to stab Cyclops in the skull, skin him alive, rape the bastard...
No. that's Cyclops, not Scotty. An' the Wolverine may get off on that shit, but I'm Logan, a man. Not a fuckin' animal.
Scott's finger pressed against the right spot inside him, and he cried out in ecstasy. "UNNGH! Fuck...Yer always doin' things fer others...sacrificin' ta the grater good and shit. Be selfish fer a fuckin' change... have what ya want...have me...FUUUUCK!!" His own cock stood tall, daring the taller man to even attempt to subdue it.
In answer to this challenge, Scott bent down to suck on Logan's rampant, flagrant masculinity while his finger kept up its prep work, joined by a second...he was captivated by everything about this amazing man, and wanted...needed...to share and partake in as much of it as he could.
Under Scott, the savage growled and shuddered at the feeling of Scott's tongue sliding across his thick length, the warmth and wetness of the mouth engulfing it. His right hand slid out of its glove and behind Scott's head and began to rub encouragingly, the hair fine and silken under his callused palm. "Fuck, Scotty, yer so good at suckin' cock..." His breaths came heavier, more ragged; each additional finger the taller man slid into him only stoked the fire in his groin. "Say it Scotty... I wanna hear ya... ya got no reason ta bottle anythin' up now, Boy Scout..."
"I've talked enough..." Then, Scott yanked his fingers out of Logan's ass, prompting a hard grunt from the other man, and buried his face between the perfect, furry globes, rimming him, giving in to a need and desire unlike anything he'd ever known. In this simple act, Scott the man defied everything Cyclops the leader believed to be true about the world, literally kissing Logan's ass...and then some!...without relinquishing a drop of self-worth. Indeed, it felt as if his actions were providing him with new self-confidence, bolstering his self-esteem even as he gave in to the 'baseness and perversity' his straight-laced leader-self so hated.
Feeling Scott's tongue suddenly bury itself in his ass propelled a roar from Logan's throat. His eyes almost bulged in surprise, the dark irises and pupils blending into a pool of solid shadow against the stark whites. God-damn...it's like he wants ta throw every inhibition out th' fuckin' window... It grated against the repressed, often repressive leader he wanted to crush; who reminded him of Vindicator and all the rest, calling for "duty" and "sacrifice" of what little freedom he had.
But Scott didn't want that. Scott wanted to drink in the same defiance Logan practically secreted from his pores. If only he could keep this entire mental picture in his head as he felt Scott's tongue progressively loosen and weaken his resistance.. "Fuck...aww, god-damn...I'm ready now. C'mon, ya know ya want me, I want'cha just as fuckin' bad. Fuck me, Scott."
Not Fearless Leader. Not Boy Scout. Not Apple Polisher. Scott.
Scott let out a low moan of pleasure at hearing his name on Logan's lips as he left a trail of kisses up the feral's hot, hairy body, lingering on all the erogenous zones he knew...perineum, ballsac, navel, nipples...giving every one of them a loving lick before he positioned his cockhead against Logan's lubricated pucker, looking down at the man he wanted so badly with naked adoration on his face...his walls so far down even the shades couldn't hide his feelings from Logan. Then, he kissed his lover and pushed into him at the same time, hilting himself with the first, slow, fluid thrust even as he and Logan locked lips.
The feral's hairy, thick arms wrapped around Scott when he felt the advancing heat and pressure move into him; his roar of pleasure flowed into the other man's mouth as their tongues wrestled against each other. Every inch of Scott's maleness kept pushing into his body; his own thick shaft dripped precum as their kiss got almost angry in its intensity. His embrace tightened, pulling Scott against him and into him until he felt the hilt of the man above him.
They stayed like that for a long moment, naked men on leather jackets strewn across the picnic table in the park, hot flesh joined at the source of their fire as cool night air washed over them and moonlight streamed down upon them, driving them madder with desire. Then, Logan looked up at Scott with a fresh challenge in his eyes. "Fuck me, Scott. Do it hard. Do it fast. An' do it now."
Scott's entire body trembled, then he gave in, pulling out almost all the way to the crown before slamming back in, making his balls and Logan's shudder from the force of the impact. A few more thrusts like this, and then the pace sped up, the panting and moaning from both men rising in intensity as their hips churned and writhed together in a harmony of struggle.
Logan felt Scott's balls slamming against his ass, felt Scott's thrusts send fresh jolts of pleasure through his body, and wrapped his fist around his cock, jerking in time with the Fearless Leader's thrusts. Scott panted and moaned and cried out as Logan's inner walls rippled across his cock, threatening to pull it out by the roots every time he retracted, but welcoming it with grunts of feral passion as he thrust back in.
The fuck was primal, sweaty, savage in all the best ways. Logan had no idea Scott had even had this in him. There should have been more pain, burning or something, he knew. But there wasn't. The pleasure Logan felt blinded him to everything else...the Summers cock that kept Jean so happy was tearing into him, and he was loving it as much as she ever would. His prostate swelled up from the barrage, and Scott's cock powered alongside it, keeping his healing factor from taking away the glorious sensations.
There was more power in the Scott's strokes than the feral had ever realized, and in that moment he realized just what he had unleashed. And he loved it!
All too soon, it was over. Scott panted and moaned and cried out Logan's name as he clutched the feral close to him, his hips surged inside him, and he let out a blast of cum deep into Logan's ass, his whole body trembling and shuddering from the force of his orgasm. Logan closed his eyes and felt the seed bathe his swollen prostate, then hooked his arms and legs around Scott and ground his hips lewdly, rubbing his cock on Scott's abdomen and grinding his ass further down on Scott's spasming, blasting dick until he let out a primal roar and blew his own load over both men, a torrent of seed that bathed both their torsos in glistening white seed.
They collapsed upon their thrown jackets, panting and gasping for breath as they held on to each other, both men trembling and shuddering from the force of their orgasms...much to Logan's surprise. I'm s'posed ta be the tough one. Biggest, baddest motherfucker in town.
How th' hell can one lay with Slim Summers completely fuck me over like this?
~*~
After they'd washed themselves clean in the lake, the two men lay together for a long time. Scott leaned up and kissed Logan again, more gently. It was a lover's kiss, the kind Logan had seen him and Jean share, and alarm bells went off in his head. Then the slimmer man broke it and laughed, a quiet chuckle. "Don't worry. I'm not sure what this...we...are yet, but I know what we're not."
Logan looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. "So...what now? Ya had yer taste o'the old man's cock, got'cher rocks off, an' now it's back ta us screamin' at each other like usual again?"
Scott shook his head, rolling up to a sitting position...that, incidentally, put his glistening cock within feet of Logan's lips. "I...I don't know. I meant everything I said today. One good fuck..." he grimaced, "or three, however you count it...doesn't change the fact that we're always butting heads. You're my worst nightmare and my goddamn ideal all wrapped up in one infuriating package."
Logan grinned. "I do my humble best, bub," he said, an echo of what he'd said before...had it only been earlier this evening?
Scott looked at him steadily. "I guess the question is...what do you want? This isn't something I can decide by myself...I want to be equal with you in this."
Logan frowned, and thought pensively, his hands trailing over Scott's body. "What happened t'night...it showed me a side o'you I ain't never seen b'fore. I want more a'that, an' I know you want more'a me." He looked up at Scott with that familiar defiance in his eyes. "Why's it gotta be more complicated'n that?"
Something about that struck Scott as unutterably funny, and he threw back his head and laughed aloud. Logan let himself crack a grin. It felt good, seeing Slim express himself. Logan couldn't explain why. "I guess it doesn't, at that!" Scott said, when the laughter had finally died down. "So...we have the rest of the night together before I start combat training in the morning. You wanna spend it here, or...?"
"Nah." Logan threw his jacket and gloves back on, and started trotting back to the bike. "I'm ready ta go back. I wanna keep fuckin'...but I wanna do it in an actual bed. We c'n always rough it some more later...take a week off, go campin' somewhere. You ain't been fucked outside till ya been fucked b'side a roarin' fire in th' Canadian Rockies." He grinned.
"Sounds like a plan," Scott said, climbing aboard after Logan. As the engine revved up and they sped into the shadows of the forests around Westchester, he wondered what he'd awakened inside himself tonight, and how far it would go.
He knew one thing: He'd enjoy finding out.
~FIN~
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