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Wolverine thought the mission had gone rather well. The Fearless Leader didn’t seem to agree if the thundercloud hanging over him was any indication.
“Wolverine, my office,” he barked as soon as the elevator doors opened to the dark panelled halls of the School.
“Dad’s mad,” Iceman said with a grin, quietly enough that Cyclops wouldn’t hear.
Wolverine snorted and rolled his eyes at the boy before ambling towards the office as slowly as he could while still moving. He tugged at the collar of the ridiculous suit the X-Team had to wear, wishing he could change before getting scolded. If he didn’t know better he would swear Cyke had a leather fetish. The idea that their uptight leader got off on ordering around people dressed in leather made Wolverine’s brain short-circuit a little before he dragged his mind out of the gutter with force.
As much as he was a bad guy with no morals, no hope and no future he still couldn’t bring himself to have sexy thoughts about a man whose wife had died only a few short years ago. For long. To tell the truth he’d occasionally cracked onto Jean and Scott at the same time but the man had never noticed – he was unsurprisingly oblivious to the existence of bisexuals. More than once Wolverine had entertained the fantasy of being the short hairy filling of a Jean/Scott sandwich. He shook his head roughly. Thinking sexy thoughts about a grieving widower and his dead spouse was definitely a fashion don’t.
“Wolverine, get in here now,” Cyke growled out, glaring at Wolverine from the doorway to his office.
Wolverine grinned at the glaring man as he wandered into the small study that Cyclops used as his office. “Eager are we?” he said, an almost flirt. He was only human. Kind of.
Cyclops said nothing as he shut the door a little too firmly. He stalked over to where Wolverine had stopped in the middle of the room and began circling the shorter man. Wolverine watched him when he was in view but didn’t try to keep the man in his sight, not giving in to the intimidation tactic.
“Wolverine,” Cyclops began in his ‘I’m-being-patient’ voice, the one that always made Wolverine smile. “You do realise what you did?”
“Saved the day?” he asked, unable to keep the smug out of his voice. He was winding Cyke up, like always.
And like always Cyclops took the bait. “You almost got everyone killed!” he exploded, crowding into Wolverine’s face, his breath hot and tempting. “You almost got yourself killed! I almost wish you had!”
“Ouch, Cyke,” Wolverine feigned a hurt tone, patting his chest as though wounded.
“I ordered you to retreat, and yet you engaged the enemy!” Cyclops wheeled away to pace out his frustration on the rug.
“I did what now? All’s I remember is punching some guys,” Wolverine always found a good beat down got his motor running, and this little back-and-forth was keeping that spark well lit. He was definitely going to have to jerk off after this little spat.
“Your blatant disregard for the safety of your teammates and for the orders of you leader-”
“You ain’t my leader, bub,” Wolverine cut in.
“Yes I am. I am your leader and you will listen to my orders-”
“Fuck your orders,” Wolverine interrupted again.
“Shut your filthy fucking mouth,” Cyclops growled, something truly threatening in his tone.
And to his eternal astonishment, Wolverine did. He shut his mouth so fast they both heard his teeth click and simply stared at the other man. All of a sudden this whole thing stopped feeling like just a little bit of fun and started feeling like something dangerously arousing. The spark that had been sitting in his belly flared hot and hummed lasciviously at the dark rumble of Cyke’s voice and the dirty words it was wrapped around. Wolverine swallowed thickly and licked his dry lips.
Cyclops’ eyebrows creased with suspicion then rose slightly in what could have been surprise. Or realisation.
Pulling himself together Wolverine cleared his choked throat and laughed in a forced way. “Gees Cyke. I had no idea you even knew that word,” he laughed again at the flat retort, no idea what the man was thinking now the mask had settled back in place.
But the almost condescending tilt of the younger man’s head was not promising for Wolverine’s chances of his momentary lapse being ignored. “I know a lot of words, Wolverine,” Cyclops said, his voice little more than a rough caress that made Wolverine’s insides shiver. “Like insolent, disrespectful, impudent. All things you are on a regular basis.”
The team leader stepped forward to loom over the older man once more. Neither of them was ever shy about each other’s personal space but right now the move seemed more erotic than Wolverine assumed his teammate meant it to be. Cyclops stared down his nose at Wolverine, or seemed to, and the older mutant tried not to noticeably sniff the other man. Like he needed to give the kid even more fuel for this awkward dressing down.
Oh, and that was a poor phrase to use because now all Wolverine could think of was slowly peeling Cyclops out of his clothes like a banana. With his teeth.
“You are an incorrigible dissident, Wolverine. Swaggering around and ignoring my orders, acting like you know better when you’re little more than a glorified wall of flesh. A meat-shield for me to use,” Cyclops snarled.
Wolverine had to hold back a whimper. He had no idea where Cyke had been hiding this true dominant streak but damn he wished the kid had brought it out earlier. The intimately low growl, the intimidating posture, the fact no matter how much he tried he couldn’t tell just what the other man was thinking, it was all working to give Wolverine some pretty embarrassing chub in his pants. If the kid kept it up he was pretty sure was going to get a boner right here in the study.
And wouldn’t that be a fun reaction to see? Would his own embarrassment be diminished by the hilarity of seeing Cyclops’ horrified expression? Wolverine wasn’t so sure it would be, so he tried to step around the other man and put some distance between them.
But Cyclops stepped with him and they just ended up standing even closer to one another. Wolverine could feel the heat radiating off the man, could smell him with every slightly shaky inhale.
“You don’t like taking orders from me, Wolverine, but the fact is you have absolutely no choice in the matter. For all intents and purposes, I own your arse,” Cyclops growled in his ear. “If I tell you to fight, you fight. If I tell you to retreat, you retreat. If I tell you to suck my dick,” he stopped there seeming to stare at Wolverine intently.
Wolverine felt his groin kick at Cyclops’ words. Holy shit, did the kid want to kill him? He had no idea what he was doing to the older man. Crowding him in like this, whispering filthy things in his ear with that low, sexed up voice. No idea at all. Wolverine inhaled again, just a hint deeper, unable to help himself from seeking more of the kid’s scent. Musky, masculine, aroused.
Wait, what?
That wasn’t him. It was definitely coming from Cyclops. The kid was getting off on this as well. He glanced into the impassive face still hovering close to his cheek. The expectant silence began to stretch a beat too long. The kid was going to back off soon, thinking Wolverine wasn’t interested. All Wolverine had to do was decide if he was or not.
Ask a stupid question.
He licked his lips. “I suck your dick,” he responded, his own voice sounding rough and damningly eager.
The smirk that flicked up the corners of Cyke’s mouth was arrogantly detached but Wolverine could see the pulse in his neck starting to hammer. “Well then,” he drawled leaning back, cocking his hips forwards. “Get to it.”
Wolverine was on his knees embarrassingly fast. He yanked at Cyclops’ pants zipper hard enough to bend the metal tab before dragging his dick out into the open.
“Eager are we?” Cyke smirked down at him, echoing his earlier comment.
Wolverine snarled at him even as he felt electricity shot up and down his spine at the smugly drawled words. No matter how much the kid was affecting disinterest his dick was already filling in Wolverine’s roughly working hand. The dissonance between Cyke’s attitude and his response sent even more shivers up and down his backbone.
He snuffled at the dark curly hairs peeking out of the zipper, smelling leather and sweat and wanting. He sucked at the base, thumb working the head with tight strokes.
“Shit,” Cyclops cursing was ridiculously hot. “Should have known you’d be good at this, the way you run your damn mouth off all the time.”
“You been thinking about my mouth?” Wolverine asked with a grin, swirling his tongue around the head.
In response Cyke gripped his hair roughly and tugged Wolverine’s face closer. “Get going already,” he hissed, rocking his hips, dragging his cock against Wolverine’s mutton chops.
Wolverine grinned, scraping his teeth lightly along the side of Cyclops’ dick. “Who’s eager?” he asked, squeezing muscular thighs with his big hands.
Cyke unsuccessfully tried to hide his own toothy smile, the aloof mask dropping away. “Just suck my dick, Wolverine,” he said, laughter threatening in his voice.
“Yes sir,” Wolverine responded with a joking salute. He pulled the head between his lips and sucked down the flavour of Cyclops greedily.
“Fuck,” thick thigh muscles flexed sharply in Wolverine’s firm grip. “Of course you’re obsequious now, you contrary bastard.”
Wolverine hummed around his mouthful, testing his gag reflex carefully. Obviously he wasn’t doing a good enough job if Cyclops could still use multisyllabic words. His hands slid back to the man’s incredible arse and pulled him in. Cyke carefully rocked forwards, letting out a worried sounding moan as Wolverine let his throat open up around his cockhead. Wolverine coaxed Cyclops into a smooth rolling rhythm, letting the man slowly fuck his throat, moaning around him as he did.
“Oh fucking god, Wolverine,” Cyclops breathed his head rolling back, his visor blinking like crazy.
Wolverine dragged off Cyclops’ cock reluctantly and rasped, “Call me Logan.”
“Logan, shit, Logan.” Cyke looked down at him, running a rough hand through his sideburns. “Get up.”
Wolverine did and found himself pulled up onto his toes into a kiss. Cyclops had to practically bend in half to reach his mouth and Wolverine found himself laughing at the picture they had to make. Cyke picked up the chuckle and pulled back saying, “You’re too damn short.”
“You’re too tall,” Wolverine shot back still laughing.
“Get on the desk,” Cyclops ordered, pushing Wolverine backwards until his butt hit the wood.
Wolverine slid up and Cyclops folded around him again, recapturing his mouth. Wolverine was surprised that Cyclops kissed dirty. Like, more teeth than tongue, shameless noises and rough hands in his hair, dirty. He felt Cyke’s erection riding his hipbone, his own hard-on pressing painfully against the inside of his suit. He reached down and encircled that erection with his hand, the tug and slide smoothed by all the spit and precome.
Cyke was humping up into his hand, huffing breaths out of his nose, unwilling to release Wolverine’s mouth even to breath. Finally he pulled back to gasp against swollen lips, “Shit, fuck, shit. Logan, Logan.”
Cyclops yanked the zipper down the back of Wolverine’s suit down, tugging the clinging leather off roughly. Once he had Wolverine’s arms free he pushed and pulled him saying, “Roll over. Shit, roll over.”
It was unbelievably hot to have their Fearless Leader all worked up and breathless and pawing him all over so Wolverine rolled eagerly, pressing his forehead to the cool wood and groaning as he was quickly stripped. Cyclops pressed against his back, rocking his dick between Wolverine’s arse cheeks.
“Gonna fuck you, Logan,” it was a statement; it was a question, “Gonna fuck you till your legs give out. You want that?”
“Yeeeaaaah,” Wolverine groaned out long, pressing back against the hot line of Cyclops’ cock.
A hungry mouth chewed on the back of his neck as a blind hand scrabbled awkwardly at the drawers on the other side of the desk. Finally Cyke slapped a bottle down on the wood next to Wolverine’s head.
“Hand lotion?” Wolverine asked with a smirk.
“Yeah, feel how soft,” Cyclops confirmed, wrapping one long fingered hand around Wolverine’s aching cock. Wolverine arched into the soft smooth slide of Cyke’s hand around him with grateful sound. “Good?” Cyclops asked, his other hand fumbling with the bottle again.
“So good,” Wolverine moaned, “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” was the reply before one of those long fingers slid into his arse.
Wolverine groaned breathlessly as he was finger-fucked and jerked off, rocking helplessly between the two sensations. He murmured in anticipation when the fingers finally left and something bigger and much, much hotter pressed against his waiting entrance. Then all was still. Wolverine shifted, trying to work himself back onto the hardness he could feel behind him.
“Who’s the leader?” Cyclops asked. He sounded serious.
Wolverine blinked. “What happened to never stopping?” he asked, trying to laugh this off as well.
Cyclops leaned over his back, breath washing over Wolverine’s ear as he asked again, “Who is the leader?” He rubbed the head of his cock against Wolverine’s arsehole making him want to whine pathetically.
Gritting his teeth he hissed, “You are, you fucking bastard.”
“Who is your leader?” God, the man sounded so fucking serious; like he was trying to prove a point.
“Cyke. Just fuck me. Please,” Wolverine was not above begging. Cyke’s breath stuttered, his hands clenching on Wolverine’s hips but he didn’t move. Banging his head once against the desk Wolverine ground out, “You’re my leader.”
“Thank you. And call me Scott.” Finally. Finally Cyclops slid that thick, perfect dick into Wolverine making him moan with relief, pushing back when Cyclops tried to go slow. “Holy shit, Logan!”
Wolverine grinned and rippled his muscles around Cyke, making him unleash a very creative string of swearing and finally start to move his hips. Wrapping his hands under Wolverine’s shoulders he pulled him back onto every thrust. They were deep and hard and Cyclops was gasping into Wolverine’s ear. Wolverine reached back and grabbed Cyclops’ neck holding him against his back as they rocked together.
“Fuck yes, Scott,” Wolverine growled turning his head so he could bite at Cyclops’ jaw. “Fuck me just like this. Good and hard.”
“Oh shit Logan!” was all the warning Wolverine got before he was slammed with rapid fire thrusts that made his toes curl. He groaned at the scalding heat of Cyclops’ come filling him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Cyclops breathed, banging his head lightly on Wolverine’s back with every word before he pulled out and rolled him over.
One soft hand wrapped around Wolverine’s dick and the other thrust two fingers back into his stretched out body. Seeking fingers pressed against his prostate ruthlessly as he was jacked, Cyclops breathing filthy words into his ear, making him moan shamelessly.
“That’s it Logan, come all over me. Want to see how much loved me fucking you. Want you to paint it all over my chest,” Cyke rumbled his voice hoarse.
Wolverine grabbed the back of Cyclops’ head and smashed their lips together, moaning his completion into that teasing mouth. Once he’d stopped coming Cyclops slowly pulled his hands away but Wolverine held on to his mouth, kissing him languidly until he came down from the high.
When they finally broke away Wolverine grinned up at Cyclops feeling perfectly relaxed and absolutely fucked out. “Do I get this treatment every time I’m bad?”
Cyclops laughed and stood up, tucking himself back into his pants before moving away to gather up Wolverine’s uniform. “Like you need more incentive to ignore orders,” he said holding out the leather for Wolverine to take.
“What if I’m good?” Wolverine asked grabbing his clothes and pulling them on.
Cyclops forewent responding in favour of laughing for an insulting length of time. Wolverine glared at him for a while before smiling himself. By the end of it he was even chuckling a little.
Slapping Wolverine on the shoulder Cyke exclaimed heartily, “God, I really needed that.”
“The laugh or the fuck?” Wolverine asked, letting Cyclops steer him towards the door.
“Either,” was the reply as he was lead into the hallway.
“Well, let me know if you need either again,” Wolverine told him, patting him on the back.
Cyclops clapped his shoulder again before moving off down the corridor. Wolverine headed towards the stairs. As he climbed towards his room, and a much needed shower, he started to whistle cheerily.