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The club was darkly lit, full of gyrating bodies, the pulse of heavy dance music reverberating through the walls and directly into Logan’s adamantium frame. It made his body tingle.
Cyclops cut a swathe through the crowd on the dance floor and the people seemed to part for him as he walked across the crowded room. Logan had no idea what they were doing here, but he followed their Fearless Leader since Scott at least appeared to know where he was going.
At the other end of the dance floor was a door guarded by two large bouncers. Twins, Logan noted, the matching tattoos on their forearms revealing that they’d been part of an exclusive prison gang. Scott looked at the guard on the right and wordlessly the man opened the door for them.
Logan gave the man a mock salute as he followed Summers inside. The door opened onto a narrow, poorly lit wooden staircase that lead to the subterranean floors of the club. Ah, Logan thought. So this is where the real action is.
The real action was very different from the club upstairs. Here everyone was dressed – a term that was to be used loosely – in skintight leather or latex, most of it in black with the occasional bright shade of red, fuchsia or white. The usual toys were on display – whips, chains, balls, and spreaders among others. Most of the floor space was separated into discreet semi-circular alcoves, and people moved freely among them to watch or to participate in the spectacle provided. The swirl of pheromones and the heady musk of sex was starting to turn Logan on, inappropriately, given that they were on a mission. He focused his attention on the man directly in front of him, which probably wasn’t the best idea since said man also happened to be the cause of a lot of his sexual frustration of late. How did he wind up in an S&M den with Cyclops?
“Didn’t think this was your scene, Cyke,” Logan commented in an effort to distract himself from their surroundings. “Emma’s got a bigger influence on you than I gave her credit for.”
“Thought you’d approve, Wolverine,” Cyclops replied, voice pitched low but crystal clear to Logan’s sensitive hearing.
Logan did but he wouldn’t admit that out loud. “At least our costumes blend in,” he grunted instead, eyes traveling over Cyclops extremely form-fitting get up. Cyke’s costume didn’t leave anything to the imagination and Logan didn’t mind that one bit.
“Stop staring at my ass,” Cyclops shot back.
Logan barked out a laugh. “It’s one of your better traits, boss,” he said, leering even more. “You know what they say. When in Rome . . .”
Logan was so focused on Cyclops’ ass that he almost bumped into the other man when Cyclops suddenly stopped. He inhaled deeply the familiar scent that provoked such conflicting feelings in him, before leaning around him to see what Cyclops was looking at.
“That where our target is?” he asked, surveying the scene. The main floor of the den branched out into private rooms for the high paying clientele. The private room Cyclops had his eyes set on was conspicuously guarded by suited men who showed no interest in the spectacle surrounding them.
“We gonna knock politely?” Logan inquired with mock graciousness.
“No,” Cyclops answered, Wolverine’s humor completely washing over him. “We’ll wait for him to come out. This looks like it might be more of a recon mission instead of a capture. It might be more valuable to keep him in the open. We’ll play it by ear.”
Logan nodded. Even when Cyke was adapting to the changing situation in the field, he was still ten steps ahead of everyone else. “We can’t just stand around here like a coupla of numbskulls,” he pointed out. “We’ll stick out like sore thumbs.”
Cyclops turned to him. “You just said our costumes blend in,” he reminded the other man.
“I also said, ‘When in Rome . . .’” Logan retorted, suddenly backing the other man into the wall behind them. “Don’t blast me across the room,” was all the warning Logan gave before he reached up and pulled Cyke down to him with a firm hand across the back of his neck.
The kiss was uncoordinated, more a mash of lips and teeth, but Logan was surprised when Cyclops didn’t resist or pull away. His surprise increased when he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and mold their lower bodies together, his half-erect cock finding friction as it ground into Cyclops’ thigh. Cyclops was taking control of the kiss too, opening his mouth and allowing Logan entrance.
The sneaky shit, Logan thought briefly, but he didn’t mind too much who was in control, not when Cyclops could do that with his tongue, not when the other man was rocking back into him and definitely not when he felt a hand cup his rapidly hardening cock. Dimly, he was aware of Cyclops maneuvering them (no doubt Cyke was trying to get a better angle on the door to the private room), but this time he was willing to let the boss do the work. He was more interested in memorizing what Summers tasted like, maybe feeling a bit more skin, maybe even blowing the other man while he was in uniform. Wouldn’t that be something?
They both tumbled into a red velvet sofa that had been placed against the wall, Logan landing on his back with Summers on top of him. He ran his hands down Cyclops’ firm chest, wishing he were touching skin instead of the familiar costume. When Cyclops bent over him to resume their kiss, Logan noticed how he also kept his head angled towards the door as Logan nipped and licked up his jawline, one of the few patches of skin that he had access to. He shifted underneath Scott, trying to get more friction for his neglected cock.
“You getting this Emma?” Cyclops suddenly said, jolting Logan out of the moment.
Fuck, Logan thought with irritation. Even in a godamn high-end brothel filled with half naked couples and their toys he couldn’t get Cyclops to himself.
His hearing picked up the movement behind them, the opening of the door and the rush of new voices speaking in a foreign language. He also knew that Cyclops was having a telepathic conversation with Emma, probably figuring out the next move. Logan continued to run his hands over his team leader’s body to maintain the charade, even as his own erection was starting to flag.
But suddenly Cyclops was kissing him. Kissing him like he meant it, his tongue plundering Logan’s mouth and stealing his breath away. Logan felt dazed by the unexpected onslaught.
“We’ll finish this later,” Cyclops said, starting to move off of him.
“What?” Logan demanded, grabbing Cyclops by the front of his costume and pulling him back. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me, Wolverine,” Cyclops replied, his voice firm with authority. “Get your head back in the game.”
Cyclops stood up this time and Logan didn’t stop him. “Emma and Hank have the exits covered outside,” he was saying calmly, as though they hadn’t just been making out on a velvet sofa. “We’ll follow him. There’s a good chance he’ll take us directly to the doctor.”
“You never did tell me how you found out about this place,” Logan prodded as they trailed their quarry from a discreet distance.
“This is one of Emma’s old haunts,” Summers answered.
“So you’ve been here before?”
Logan took the silence to be a confirmation and he grinned. However this mission turned out, there would be something to look forward to ‘later.’
Fin.