Seeing is Believing | By : cathayshu Category: X-men Comics > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1326 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
“-and then, Captain Britain got turned into a duck!”
Logan's response to Kurt's claim was to bark out a laugh and keep on guffawing. Kurt waited patiently for Logan to catch his breath. It was funny; many of Excalibur's dimension hopping adventures were funny in hindsight.
“And he very conveniently got turned back, I figure.”
“Not conveniently! You don't even know what sorts of ghoulish deeds we had to do in exchange to get him turned back and the rest of the team free from the clutches of the Mad Stuarts. I ended up with bringing them a bucket of steaming-”
“Okay, you need to stop there,” Logan shook his head decidedly.
“...If you say so,” Kurt's tail swished; he clearly wanted to finish his story despite Logan's sudden desire to remain ignorant about the contents of said steaming bucket.
“You watch too many movies, Elf,” Logan concluded.
“I'm not making any of it up!” Kurt sat up, straddling Logan and poking him on the chest. “It's just improbable, but definitely not impossible.”
Kurt could tell that Logan was just humoring him from his expression and the fact that Logan was reaching for his crotch in a completely transparent attempt to change the subject altogether.
“No, you don't-” Kurt managed to smack Logan's hand away with his tail-spade and push him down backwards into the grass with both hands. “I will not be disbelieved!”
It occurred to Logan that it would better his chances of getting some more tail if he didn't mention how hot Kurt was when he was mildly annoyed. That would just mean a very annoyed Kurt. A very annoyed Kurt meant not even any ass groping allowed.
“After all,” Kurt leaned in and nipped Logan's lips sharply with his fangs. “Nobody would believe me if I should mention that you like riding my cock.”
Logan growled at that, grinning, making another move towards Kurt's fly.
“No, Logan,” blocked again by the tail-spade.
“Fine, Elf, fine,” Logan snorted. “Captain Britain got turned into a duck. A prince proposed marriage to Kitty. And you disguised yourself as your mother.”
Well that did it. Kurt reared back.
“I did not!” Kurt's voice was scandalized and now he was jabbing Logan in the chest with both his finger and his tail-spade. “When did I ever say that!? You're the one making things up!”
“Quit that- Hey- Elf!” Logan managed to grab hold of Kurt's wrist and tail and hold them away.
“You take that back, Logan,” Kurt readied his left hand to resume the jabbing.
“So I'm mishearing how you put on a skirt and did some infiltrating, is that it?”
“...Oh,” Kurt laughed. “That. I did pose as a Wild West saloon hostess. But only as a disguise in of itself! Not to imitate Mystique! Also, it wasn't the Wild West, it was more like the Wild East, because that dimension's Europe-”
“Gotcha, Kurt,” Logan interrupted. “You just crossdressed. And people didn't figure that out until you managed to pull off your daring rescue. I have it wrong, it's not one bit unbelievable at all.”
Logan thought it could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing that Kurt went completely still and his eyes narrowed with thought.
“Okay, Logan. You don't believe things unless you can see them with your own two eyes. That's just the sort of man you are,” Kurt leaned in to kiss Logan.
Logan let go, glad the issue was finally closed.
“So I'll provide the proof!”
He bamfed away right in Logan's face. Logan sat up with an aggrieved roar, claws popping out. He huffed, shaking his head and drew in his claws. First thing, he got away from the remaining cloud of brimstone. Nobody could think straight with that stench in their mouth.
He surveyed the landscape to see if Kurt was already changing things with the Room. Nope, things weren't going all Alice in Wonderland on him yet. He was still standing in Bavarian Forest, Version 2, with improved Cuckoo Calls. And to be frank about it, Kurt can say he was feeling nostalgic all he wanted, Logan was still convinced that he only added Cuckoo Calls to Version 2 just to annoy the crap out of Logan.
Aw, hell, Logan thought. I need a cigar. The Room obligingly popped one into existence in his hand and he started walking after he had it comfortingly clenched in his teeth. He didn't have to walk far.
Kurt didn't waste any energy with transitions. It was like somebody had drawn a line in the sand; one side was Bavarian Forest. The other side? Logan bit back a snort of impressed amusement. Spaghetti Western on steroids. The sky was hot blue, blue enough to start turning white from the glare of a merciless sun. Mirage haze rippled in the horizon. Red rock country spread out before him, mesas and dunes of sandstone rose up and cast deep shadows, perfect hiding places for desperadoes and cattle rustlers. He'd have to ask how Kurt managed to time it so that a tumbleweed rolled by just when Logan stepped up to the demarcating line in the Room.
“Okay, Elf. Okay, I'll play it your way,” Logan said to the Room. “But I am not going to walk, no way, no how. I am also definitely not putting on Eastwood's getup, either. Man's got to have boundaries.”
He stepped over the line.
A horse was waiting for him on the other side. He looked down at himself. Kurt was considerate of his request; he was wearing acceptably generic working cowhand's gear. He adjusted the cowboy hat that suddenly appeared on his head, saddled up, and let the horse take him where he needed to go.
He heard it before he saw it. Tinkly, slightly out of tune piano, the clinking of glass, the tromping of boots going through reels and waltzes, talking, laughter, and the snap of cards being shuffled and dealt. Logan didn't know how Kurt did it. It sounded just right, enough to bring him snatches of memories. He exhaled some cigar smoke. Not now. Wasn't the time to get all broody.
He pushed through the saloon doors and stepped to one side, before making his way towards the bar. He had to move past the dance floor, where skirts swirled and heels were kicking up. The bartender got him whiskey to start.
“Take a turn on the floor with me, mister?” a soft voice came from behind Logan.
Kurt had to bite his lip to hold back a laugh. It was really too much like a movie, how Logan's automatic tip of the hat towards a saloon “lady” became a double take and a jaw drop. Kurt motioned for the bartender to get another drink while he waited for Logan to finally say something.
“...You have boobs?” Logan was confounded.
“You are such a gentleman, sir,” Kurt quirked an eyebrow.
Logan coughed. He earned that bit of sarcasm. He had to hand it to Kurt; when he meant business, business happened. The man had something to prove.
Logan looked Kurt over while Kurt took a drink. That had to be a wig. It worked, actually. Why shouldn't some saloon dove in the middle of some rough and tumble mining town miles from civilized society own something like it? The blond was very blond, unabashedly artificial and pouffed, teased, and curled to within an inch of its life. Ostrich feathers and bows were affixed to the whole elaborate affair and wafted out perfume with every move of Kurt's head. Red was slicked onto his lips, he'd drawn on a beauty mark that was pure Marilyn and Logan wasn't sure if he was going to ask about those eyelashes.
Kurt's shoulders were bare and it caused a thrill of remembered taboo in Logan. Good girls back then didn't bare their shoulders before 3 o' clock. Kurt was cinched in tight with a corset under a dress that was as red as the lipstick, heavy with flounces and cord fringe. The bodice over the suspect boobs sparkled with sewn on glass beads that caught the hazy light from the oil lamps. Kurt's petticoats rustled as he stepped up to Logan after finishing his drink.
“Am I going to have to be forward, sir?”
“Naw,” Logan put down his glass and offered his hand. “You don't.”
They entered the whirl of the floor.
Logan couldn't help a quietly happy smile while they danced. Kurt was just so into it; he loved dancing, he loved showing off how he could move.
“How about we move this to somewhere private?” Logan ventured after the music changed to something more sedate and he could lean in to whisper into Kurt's ear.
Kurt nodded and gave the usual silent warning of squeezing both of Logan's hands once before teleporting.
They landed on a bed. That was pretty much all Logan needed to know before pinning Kurt down and finally kissing him.
Kurt was laughing through his nose at Logan when he wasn't making pleased purring noises; Logan was fighting with the layers of petticoats all the while. It would've been much easier to undertake if Logan could see what he was doing, but Logan wasn't going to leave off kissing yet.
“I'm- I'm surprised you didn't start tearing at them,” Kurt finally gasped when Logan growled in frustration and sat back in order to properly pull Kurt's skirt up and began rummaging through the obstructing layers.
“...Before washing and sewing machines were everywhere, you better believe men were trained to never mess with a lady's getup. Could be the only nice things she'd ever own.”
Kurt didn't laugh at Logan's archaic sense of courtesy. It was too honest, too sweet. Not that he would ever say so, of course. Logan didn't like being called sweet.
“Huh,” Logan pursed his lips in a downright lewd manner that made Kurt's insides tingle. “You got on garters.”
“Of course I do,” Kurt quipped. “Nylon wasn't invented yet.”
“Haven't seen proper garters in a long time,” Logan was petting both of Kurt's legs through the stockings. “You're keeping them on. Got that?”
“I can do that,” Kurt was eager to oblige; he did so love Logan's voice when he got that tone.
When Logan finished piling up all the petticoats, both he and Kurt laughed; Kurt was entirely out of view and vice versa.
Logan wasn't sure if he'd mentioned lately to Kurt that he had a pair of ace gams. He ought to, because it would be a damn shame to have this be the only time he'd get to see said legs in stockings and garters. He ran his fingers against the grain of all that soft fur on Kurt's thighs, drawing circles with his thumbs. Kurt shivered and sighed, muffled by the petticoats.
“I like a good tease, Logan, but-”
Kurt's tail-spade found one of Logan's arms, snaked upwards, and quickly coiled around Logan's neck.
“Get on with it.”
He gave a firm pull with his tail, dragging Logan's head downwards toward his exposed cock. Another point to Kurt for historical nitpicking, Logan thought. Open crotch drawers or going without underwear for the saloon gals.
He got down to business, taking it in and loving the feeling of it getting hot and hard as he worked it with his tongue. He didn't need to see Kurt's reaction. Kurt's tail slacked and fell away from his neck and now it was doing that restless slithering and coiling that came from mindless reaction to how good it felt to have Logan's mouth on him.
Beyond the rustling of all those starched petticoats from Kurt's hips rising up in spite of himself Logan could hear him. So soft and quiet that you had to have Logan's hearing to hear Kurt's gasps, abrupt and sharp, coming in faster as Logan went on.
And then, Logan couldn't hear anything at all. Full stop.
“...Elf? Kurt!”
“...Lo- Wha...?” when Kurt finally came to, he was not sure at all what just happened.
“You know what I definitely don't miss from back then?” Logan smiled, fanning Kurt with his cowboy hat. “All that fainting just when the really fun part's about to happen.”
“I-” Kurt couldn't say another word. He was simply too embarrassed.
Logan shrugged.
“Hey, not like you wear these,” he tapped the corset. “on the regular. So we're just going to keep things simple. Getting you all the way out of these clothes.”
Logan pulled Kurt up into sitting position. Kurt just helplessly laughed. Logan tapped on the dress.
“Off.”
The Room disintegrated the dress.
“And now to figure out the mystery,” Logan hooked a finger into the corset over a suspect boob, leaning forward to examine it with a raised eyebrow.
“It's all just padding,” Kurt chuckled. “I definitely don't have my mother's abilities.”
Logan was satisfied with the truth of it and proceeded to strip Kurt down. He left the garters and stockings on, of course.
“You aren't going to keep that wig on, are you?”
“Too Marie Antoinette for you, Logan?” Kurt batted his eyelashes and tilted his head so that the ostrich feathers bobbed jauntily. “Was she an acquaintance of yours?”
“...Ha. No, seriously, ditch it.”
Kurt pulled it off and tossed it across the room. Logan reached out and roughly tousled his hair, getting the curls back up. Kurt let him, closing his eyes and enjoying the attention.
“Now, since it's my fault you even strapped yourself into that corset,” Logan was nuzzling and nipping at Kurt's neck. “I'll take care of you, okay? Just let me do all the work.”
Kurt smiled and lay back, pulling Logan down and kissing him.
“I don't see why not. After all, I let you lead while dancing this time.”
“You let me, huh?”
“Of course!” Kurt's fangs flashed out with a grin.
Logan snorted, made a thought so that the Room got rid of all of his own clothes at once, and flipped Kurt over onto his stomach, using his tail as a convenient handle. He ignored Kurt's annoyed protest at getting his tail so roughly treated in favor of spreading Kurt's buttocks and liberally applying his tongue.
“Logan-! Just like that, yes-”
Logan had Kurt's cock in his hand and was stroking it in tandem with his tongue. Kurt was making nonsense noises now, closer to a cat in heat than anything else; his tail was now arching in a distinctly inviting manner. Logan got that signal loud and clear. He began working lube the Room provided for the purpose in with his fingers, taking it slow partially because he really did feel a bit guilty about goading Kurt into a corset with his disbelief and partially because Kurt made the best sounds and he wanted to draw them all out.
Kurt wasn't thinking at this point. It was all just too good, being pampered like this; he didn't want to move at all. He was also still a little light headed from fainting so he was being more compliant than usual.
“Turn over,” Logan was licking long trails on his back.
Kurt made a languid blink before moving. And Logan might be getting just that much more out of his mind because he thought even something as simple as that was hot, coming from Kurt. Logan's the one moving now, kissing at his throat and taking his scent in, before catching his lips. Kurt's waking up, his body tightening with renewed arousal. Kurt rubs up on Logan and that's a sensation Logan knows he can't get with anybody else with that soft, soft fur; the voluptuous whole body feeling of it makes him shiver. Kurt's got his legs up and he laughs a little when Logan maneuvers them so that they are both propped up on Logan's shoulders. He's petting them again, rubbing a cheek against the silk of the stockings.
Kurt makes a pointedly impatient shimmy, grinding on Logan's hardon.
“I do the work, I set the pace, Elf,” Logan's smug.
That earns him a whipsmack from Kurt's tail right on his ass and Kurt shows off those fangs again when Logan flinches and growls. It takes another strike from Kurt's tail before Logan gives it to him, sliding in deep and Logan watches Kurt's eyes slide closed and his nostrils flare from the feeling of it.
Logan grits his teeth and keeps it deliberate and measured. He's testing the both of them and he gets what he wants; Kurt's finally opened his eyes and there's promise of retribution in his glare for Logan's choice. Logan's all for it.
Kurt is at a distinct disadvantage; he's got no leverage at this angle and Logan's smiling at him again. It's infuriating just as much as it is arousing and Logan distracts him by reaching down and squeezing Kurt's cock. It doesn't distract him for long, though. Kurt was on the single minded goal of getting fucked properly.
If Kurt's ass alone wasn't invitation enough to quit messing around and really fuck, Kurt was using everything else he had to dismantle Logan's control. Kurt was clawing at him with his nails and his tail was aiming to leave marks. Logan broke finally; he cursed and Kurt let out a exultant yell when Logan clamped down on his hips to keep him for any further wriggling and just dove right in.
“Kurt,” Logan's rumble of a voice, low and desperate-
“More,” Kurt's curling up, digging those nails into Logan's shoulders- “Yes-”
Logan bucks hard when Kurt bites down, hurts- fuckyesithurts-
“Lo- Logan-!”
He feels Kurt shuddering, all of him shockcoiling, and it hits him hard, hard enough to knock all the breath out of his body.
Kurt hisses more than he gasps as Logan half drops, half guides him back down onto the bed. His tail's practically cutting off circulation to Logan's left thigh. He loosens it while Logan just lets the heaviness of his body take over, laying stock still on the bed, lax.
“That corset was completely worth it,” Kurt concluded.
Logan huffed out a laugh.
“...Elf, shut up already. Can't we just afterglow in peace?”
Kurt grinned, throwing an arm over Logan. He smiled back and closed his eyes.
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