Chapter Five
Logan rolled over,pushing Peter to his back, and propped himself up on his forearms. "I want my mouth onyou."
For a second, Peter just looked up at Logan and blinked, because those words - those exact words - had featured heavily in some of his most-frequently-recurring fantasies, and he wasn't sure for a second whether he'd fallen asleep with his tub of ice cream and dreamed up this absolutely impossiblereality.
Once he realized he was very much awake - only because the bruise in his chest throbbed slightly the second Logan lowered himself down to kiss at his neck - he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Logan had spoken the words like a question. He was waiting for Peter to grant permission before they moved on any further, not wanting to take advantage, which was so sweet that Peter's heart melted in hischest.
It was probably stupid - the kind of shortsighted, immediate gratification that would come back to haunt him - but Peter couldn't say no. Not when he thought about the strange confluence of events that had gotten them here in the first place. It was fate, or cupid—the real one, not the one who went around assaulting innocent partygoers—who'd gotten them heretonight.
"I want that too," he whispered, "I want that somuch."
With faltering breaths and fumbling fingers, Peter stripped Logan's shirt, running his hands over every inch of exposed skin, loving the latent power in Logan's abs and traps and biceps. The hair on Logan's chest was short like he'd shaved it before and no longer bothered. Peter found himself fascinated by the texture against his fingers and then -oh fuck- his nipples, as Logan bent his head so their tongues could tangle onceagain.
And then like someone had lit a fuse beneath them or reminded them that the clock was ticking by on this night, they were in a race to get one another naked as quickly as possible. Peter ripped at Logan's fly, tearing his pants down, while Logan kicked off his socks and shoes to push the garments down the rest of the way. He gripped Logan's ass tight - bruisingly so - but the hiss Logan gave was of pleasure, notpain.
Logan knelt up, nudging Peter to lift his hips so he could pull his jeans all the wayoff.
But the second they were both free, Logan straddled Peter again, gazing down at him with such blatant arousal and appreciation that there was no room for doubt or insecurity. He ran the tips of his fingers down the center of Peter's chest to his belly button, and Peter's cock twitched inresponse.
"So fucking hot," Logangrowled.
But just when Peter expected him to reach for his cock, or shimmy further down the bed, Logan shocked him by running those same fingers backuphis chest and cupping his jaw oncemore.
"I wanted you seven years ago," he said. "So much. But... Jesus, Peter. Neverthismuch."
Peter could only nod because he got it. Whatever feelings he'd had for Logan back then, whatever feelings had lain dormant inside him for the past few years, had all been awakened -resurrected- and coupled with the insane attraction he had for the man Logan had become. He couldn't remember wanting anyone like this. Not Arthur, not the guys before him. Noone.
Logan bit his lip and very slowly, very deliberately, lay down on top of Peter, cock-to-cock, belly-to-belly, chest-to-chest. He grabbed Peter's hands and lifted them to the bed above Peter's head and held them there, so they were arm-to-arm, too. And for a second, they lay there - not moving, not kissing, just staring at one another in the near-darkness while the weight and the warmth kindled anticipation in every cell of Peter'sbody.
"Why did we never do this before?" Logan demanded, and Peter prayed it was a rhetorical question. He shook his head mutely. "I was such an idiot," Logan whispered. And then he bent his head to press a feather-light kiss against Peter'slips.
Logan's mouth moved lower, then, trailing over Peter's jaw, and down his neck, nibbling at the place right at the juncture of his collarbone that drove Peter crazy. Lower, teeth grazing over his nipple making Peter's breath catch, and then lower still until he dipped his tongue into the groove down the center of Peter'sstomach.
And then,oh hell, oh Jesus, oh Cupid, or who-the-fuck-ever, his head moved even lower thanthat.
Logan lifted his head and looked up at Peter for half a second, while his warm breath tickled the soft hair on Peter's groin, and Peter cursed the fact that there were no lamps in the room, that it wasn't broad daylight, that he wouldn't be able to remember every single detail of this night. Then Logan took Peter in his mouth, and Peter realized he was an idiot for worrying because he'd never forget a single second ofthis.
Jesus, it feltgood. Good, and hot, and wet. All the words in his brain had suddenly turned into one-syllable grunts, but that was fine because sometimes all you needed were the simple words, anyway. Words like, "More,"and"Please,"and"God!"and"Logan!" which Peter babbled at increasing decibels as Logan sucked and swallowed and lapped with histongue.
He could feel Logan's arm brushing against his leg as Logan rose to his knees and began to work himself. Peter tried to tell him to stop, to turn around so Peter could get his mouth on Logan, too, but Logan just shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like, "Next time," no matter how unlikely thatwas.
Peter's hips stuttered uncontrollably, pushing up into the warmth of Logan's eager mouth. His hands searched for purchase on Logan's head, but there was nothing to grip. Finally, his hands flopped to the mattress and dug into fabric beneath him, holding on for dear life as Logan moved his head faster, sucking and swallowing like a fuckingboss, drawing the very breath from Peter's lungs in little pants that sounded likeah-ah-ah.
"I'm close." God, so close. But Logan didn't pull away; he gave an excited little whimper and redoubled hisefforts.
Peter arched his neck, feeling the orgasm racing to meet him, and dug his head back into the mattress; the very mattress where he'd once lain and jerked off at the veryideaof Logan wanting him, of Logan kissing him, of Logan's mouth on him. And that thought was enough to send him over theedge.
He came with a hoarse cry, and Logan swallowed around him, then a few seconds later, he felt the hot splatter of Logan spilling against his thigh. Jesus Christ, it wasperfect.
When Peter opened his eyes to look at the shadows on the ceiling a second later, Logan was pressing soft kisses to the inside of his leg, and the dulcet strains of Miley Cyrus were floating up thestairs.
Who says dreams don't come true, Past Peter? Whosays?
He laughed out loud, delighted with Logan and himself and fuckinglife,which was unpredictable and sometimes took a seven-year delay-of-game before giving you what you wantedmost.
"What?" Logan demanded, smiling in thedark.
Peter pulled at his shoulders until Logan was more or less sprawled on top of him, then tangled his hands in Logan's hair. He gave an experimental yank at the longer part in thefront.
