Title: Fireworks

Author: Titti

Fandom: X-Men

Pairing: Scott-Logan

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Scott, Logan, fireworks and sex.

Fireworks
by Titti

Logan's POV

*Happy Forth of July, America. It is another hot day,* the radio says in the background.

I grab another cold beer and sit on a beach chair, at the poolside. I look around. Sweaty bodies are everywhere, trying to find relief any way possible: the pool, ice, cold drinks. Only one person remains as cool as ever.

My eyes travel over him. The sun doesn't affect Scott Summers. His skin remains pale and dry as his body absorbs the sun's rays. He's dressed in a crispy, white, linen shirt and a pair of khakis. Not a hair is out of place. Nothing mars his perfection.

The heat must be getting to me because I can't stop thinking about him. How perfect it would be to make him lose that coldness?

I can picture his sweaty body, spread beneath mine as I pump into him. I can hear him moan and whimper, calling me, begging me as if I were his own God, the only on able to grant his every wish.

I groan at the picture in my head. I adjust my erection, which feels as hard as adamantium within the confines of my jeans. I don't particularly care if anyone is watching. I'm a man.

I still look around and see Scott staring at me. I know he's probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. His air of superiority annoys me and I decide to play with him. I keep my eyes on him as I swirl my tongue over the beer bottle before taking a long sip.

Even at a distance, I can see him blush and he looks away. My fucking God, I get even harder at the virginal act from the boy. I wonder if he's ever had any lovers besides Jean. He doesn't seem the type, but then again, he did spent some time on the street. Even more importantly, has he had a lover since Jean's death?

I take another sip and his eyes are on me again. Jesus, he can raise the fucking temperature just by looking at me. I casually put the bottle on the ground, next to the floor and move toward him.

I wonder what he thinks when he sees me move toward him. I feel like an animal on the hunt, closing in on his prey. He must sense it because I call see him tense, as if readying himself.

"What do you want, Wolverine?" he asks me when I get close enough.

"I was thinking," I say, licking my lips.

"Should I worry?" He crosses his arms in front of him.

"Depends." No one has ever accused me of being talking.

He cocks his head to one side. "On what?"

I move closer and I whisper in his ear. "On what it takes to make ya sweat." I pull back and wait until I see realization dawn on him.

"Can't you ever be serious?" he hisses.

I grin at him. "Who said I'm kiddin'? I've been thinkin' it would be quite exciting to see the fearless leader lose it." I circle him until I'm standing behind him. I press my body as close as I dare with the kids around. "To see you all sweaty and flushed, needy and wantin'. I think that would make my Fourth of July."

"You're..." His voice cracks and I can feel the heat coming from him, and it has nothing to do with the temperature. "You aren't even American."

I shrug. "I never pass an opportunity to enjoy myself.

Scott's POV

I swear I hate the man. He always knows what to say and do to make me lose it. First, he went after my girl and now...Fuck, I can't believe I want him. He's arrogant, rude, and did I mention arrogant? But damn it, each word goes straight to my cock.

"Ya must be tired. Always in control, always keeping a cool temper..." he whispers in my ear and it's so true. I never allow myself to act less than perfectly.

"I bet you're looking for someone to take ya in hand. To tell ya what to do and when. I bet ya just wanna give up control and be fucked senseless." I groan at the image he's painting for me. For a man who doesn't say much he surely knows how to use words.

His hand sneaks around my body and stops on my stomach. I look around and fortunately no one is paying attention. "I can smell ya, ya know. I know how aroused ya are. Are ya going to accept what your body is telling ya or are ya too much of a coward to let go?"

His eyes are locked on mine and I want to punch him. How dare he say that to me! I'm not afraid of anything, let alone an old, brainless thug like him. "You think I'm afraid," I challenge him.

He smirks. "I know yer afraid. Behind those glasses and the leathers, yer just a little boy."

I push against him. I bet they all think we're ready to punch each other. "You have no idea of who I am. Follow me."

I walk to my bedroom, without turning to see if he's following. The moment he closes my door, I'm on him, ripping that tight wifebeater he's wearing. And yes, his idea of giving up control has some merits, but at the moment, I want to prove to him that I'm not a coward.

He grabs my wrists and pins them behind my back. So much for fighting him. "Easy, Slim. I don't wanna hurt ya."

I doubt he can see the rage in my eyes, but he must smell it, because he chuckles. "I'm not insulting ya. Just ...let me."

As if I have a choice. He begins kissing me. But by God, he is good. Slowly, his tongue runs over my teeth, it touches my palate and finally he begins to fuck my mouth. I arc my body to press against him, my arms still behind me.

He smiles against my mouth. "Ya like that? I'm just beginnin'." I hear his claws come out and I shiver. His smile is predatory, like an animal that knows that he's cornered his prey.

He runs one clawed hand over my clothes, never releasing me. Soon, I'm standing, buck naked in front of him.

"Like it?" It doesn't quite come out the way I intended. I sound more like I'm ready to croak.

"I like ..." He caresses my face. "...you." He dives in for another kiss and I'm lost. When he releases me, I sink against him. He closes his arms around me to keep me up.

He walks me to my bed and pushes me down. "I want ya to prepare yerself, while I get undressed. Yer gonna show my how hungry yer hole is for me, and when I get rid of all my clothes, I'll slam into ya, so ya wanna be ready."

My cock twitches with each word. I close my eyes for a moment, to calm myself, before obeying him. He watches me like a hawk. I decide to tease him. I stare at him as my finger pushes inside my body. With my other hand, I pinch my nipple and moan at the sensation.

He growls as I push another finger in. He's stops undressing and just stares at me for a few moments. "Oh, I'll love fuckin' ya," he says before moving into action again.

He tosses his clothes around the room, uncaring of where they land. He kneels on the bed and crawls over my body. With my legs bend over his elbows, he opens me up for his view. "Yer fucking perfect even when yer not."

I don't really understand what he's telling me, but I don't care as he buries himself in one long trust. As he starts to fuck me in earnest, the world disappears. I'm not a leader. I'm not a teacher. I'm not the strong one.

Logan is the only one who exists as he slams into me. My body is here for him, for his pleasure. As he fills me with his thick cock, he grounds me, he makes me feel loved, cared for.

Soon, I stop thinking. I repeat his name like a mantra, my own prayer to the man who can grant me my release. I get louder as his hand closes around my cock. He pumps me brutally until I'm coming all over his hand. Only then, does he let go and reaches his orgasm.

Hours later, I stand at the window. He stands behind me and hugs me, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Ya know what?"

"What is it know?" I try to sound upset, but I can't. Being thoroughly fucked makes me nicer.

"I saw lights the last time we came." He can barely keep from laughing.

I elbow him gently, but laugh. "Those were the fireworks."

### The End ###