BY : Blu
Category: X-men Comics > Slash - Male/Male > Logan/Scott
Dragon prints: 3118
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.


Scott, Logan
641 words

Companion piece to ĎBabylon Revisitedí
Thanks to Min for the inspiration.

Characters copyright and property of Marvel Comics Group. Story and plot copyright 2002 Blu Fiction and property of Atomic Fantasy Ė all rights reserved. Please contact the author for archive permission and feedback.


Iíve felt him looking at me before; this isnít the first time. I try to remind myself that itís my teammate, but Iíve got this feeling of revulsion in my stomach because even though Iíve known him for years, and even though Iím a grown man and I can handle being looked at Ė in spite of all that Ö it still freaks me out.

And yet, and yet it doesnít. And maybe thatís really where the revulsion comes from. Iím standing there, getting changed, minding my own business, and I can feel his eyes on me. And my initial reaction is to punch him out Ė or at least, that was my reaction the first time I caught him. I never did, not because I couldnít have, but because Logan has saved my ass more times than I can count Ė and now I know maybe the reason why. I struggle to hold back a grin at the thought.

Ever since he joined the team thereís been this strange kind of competition between us. Logan and I are constantly at war for supremacy Ė if not necessarily for the top spot, then certainly for dominance in the minds of the women and men we live and work with. I simply choose to subtly mark my territory, whereas he flaunts his masculinity. Yet exploiting the manís weakness is so easy I canít help myself.

Nowhere is this race of sorts more apparent than in our Danger Room sessions. I guess it must be the heat and the activity and all the testosterone boiling in us, but it seems to bring out the edge Ė in me, certainly, and I think in Logan as well. When we come back, and we take off our masks, and itís just us standing there naked, thereís a weird sort of vibe going through the quiet.

Weíve been through this hundreds of times, now. Heís watching my every move. I at first wanted to rush and get done with things and get out of the room, but that was a long time ago. This is now Ė I go slow. I get some kind of wicked pleasure, deep down, something I know I shouldnít be feeling, knowing that heís standing right next to me, wanting me. Of course Ė he wonít ever have me. But like Bobby always says Ė what are friends for? My brand of friendship, particularly with Logan, is sold at a little higher price than Bobbyís Ė but Loganís obviously willing to pay. And as long as heís willing to stand there and pretend like he thinks I donít know heís getting off watching Ė then Iím willing to indulge him.

I slowly peel off the suit. Itís sticky with perspiration, and the inside lining leaves dark dye smudges on my forearms and chest where the sweat has soaked in. I slide it right down to my waist, and let it hang at my hips. Right there. I have to bite back a grin thatís threatening to become laughter. I can practically feel Logan squirming. Sure itís uncomfortable me, me, too. Iím not into guys. Iíd ask any man who gets stared down if he doesnít enjoy it, though? The attention is great, and for once Iím not being criticized or questioned Ė Iím just being enjoyed.

Hanging up my suit and tossing my towel into the cart, I slowly, steadily saunter behind Logan, and as always Ė Iím such a vindictive sonofabitch sometimes Ė I scrape by with three fingers touching his back. ďExcuse me, Logan,Ē I mumble in affected offhandedness. I can almost see the coals of his eyes burning Ė with hate, with lust Ė probably both.

I get into the shower, turn on the steam, and let it roll over me. Smiling to myself, Iím thinking that the alpha male syndrome is a great thing.

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