Frenzy (Calculated Risk Remix)
by Victoria P.

Remix of Frenzy by Azurine.

Logan knew, of course. He was always aware of the undercurrents of sexual tension that radiated around him like spokes from a wheel. It was kind of hard not to know, after all, what with the super senses, so even though Peter tried to be subtle, tried to play it off as friendly concern, Logan knew.

He didn't mind. In fact, he kind of liked it. Not that he was looking to take advantage or exploit the guy or anything. He wasn't.

Some men would have had a problem. Some men didn't think you could be a man and like other men, like the way their muscles rippled beneath smooth, fair skin, the broad, chiseled planes of a chest, the feel of another hard cock sliding against your own, the firm, sweet curve of an ass that made you want to sink your teeth into it, mark it as yours.

Logan wasn't one of those men.

He had nothing against a good hard fuck with another guy.

But that wasn't exactly what Peter wanted.

Well, yeah, okay, it kind of was exactly what Peter wanted, but Peter would also want the more. The after. It would be almost as complicated as it had been with Jean, and that had almost driven Logan away, because Logan didn't do complicated. Get in, get fucked, get gone was his usual modus operandi, and he'd blown that plan to hell once and where had it gotten him?

And with things the way they were, it didn't seem like a good idea to go off the map again, get involved in a relationship. And Xavier and his merry men could go on all they liked about tolerance and acceptance, but Logan knew what kind of looks he and Peter would get from the rest of the team, the rest of the world. Even in supposedly liberal Salem Center, New York, in the supposedly enlightened twenty-first century, among an already-hated and feared minority.

What Logan hadn't known, didn't expect, was how much he wanted Peter, especially once they were separated.

It was one thing to be vaguely aware that someone had a thing for you. It was another thing completely to find yourself jacking off in some cheap motel room shower after a mission, imagining large, pale hands in place of your own darker ones, or a hot, red mouth sucking you off as you tangled your hands in his thick, dark hair while the water cooled from hot to lukewarm.

Not expected at all.

So Logan had a lot to think about on top of all the other stuff he always had to think about.

They danced around it some more once he got back, with late night talks and occasional not-quite-accidental touches that lit fires under his skin and kept him plenty occupied in the shower every morning.

But Logan had never gotten anywhere in life playing it safe, and he'd never been one to not just go after what he wanted. And as much as he enjoyed their little flirtation, after a few weeks of dancing around each other, of "You know I know you know and I know you know I like it," it wasn't enough.

On Friday night, while everyone else was out, Logan and Peter sat watching the Rangers game in the living room.

When Peter got up to get more beer, Logan followed him into the kitchen. He was surprised at how nervous he was. After all, he knew Peter wanted him, knew he wasn't going to be rejected tonight, no matter what happened in the morning.

Maybe it was just the idea of changing what was a pretty decent friendship into something infinitely more complicated. Logan decided not to think about it too much, because thinking too much led to not acting, and he really, really wanted to get some action tonight.

Logan was a risk taker, and this was a calculated risk. He was pretty sure it would pay off in the end.

Peter was rummaging through the fridge, placing beer bottles on the counter, and Logan leaned against the wall, admiring the view.

When Peter straightened, letting the refrigerator door swing shut behind him, Logan moved, quicker than you'd expect for a man with a metal skeleton.

He pulled Peter toward him, enjoying the feel of another hard body pressed against his, slid a hand around the nape of his neck, and kissed him.

He licked at Peter's lips, and Peter opened his mouth to let him in. It was good. So good they stumbled, banged against the countertop. The bottles fell over; one rolled to the floor and shattered, spraying their legs with beer.

They didn't break the kiss, didn't bother to stop and clean it up.

Logan's hands went up under Peter's shirt, pressing and gliding, as Peter yanked the tail of Logan's flannel out of his pants.

"Wait, wait. . ." Peter said when Logan broke the kiss.

"No." Logan threaded his fingers through Peter's belt-loops, bringing their bodies into close contact again.

Peter gasped. "Upstairs. . ."

"Which room?"

"Don't care."

"Mine," Logan said, and they both knew he was talking about more than his room.

"Yes," Peter said against his lips. Logan felt a slight ache in his chest at that, and knew, whatever the outcome, he'd made the right choice, taken the right risk.


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