X-Men 100s

These were written for the X-Men 100 LiveJournal community.


Challenge: The Morning After

War Zone by Ransom (L/R Movieverse)
Posted on 04/05/03

The living room was a disaster. Logan stood in the doorway, yawning. Assessing the damage. It was even worse in the daylight.

The carpet was littered with torn wrapping paper and crushed potato chips. His ashtray was filled to the brim with something that looked suspiciously like Kool-Aid, and his chair. . .was that cake?

He took a step, and his bare foot stuck to the carpet. He looked down. Chocolate ice cream.

"Goddamnit!"

Behind him, a little voice piped, "Gawdammint!"

Wincing, he turned to find Marie, birthday girl on her hip. She looked amused.

"What?"

"You have frosting in your ear."


Challenge: The Morning After

Early To Rise by Azurine (Logan/Peter, Ultimateverse)
Posted 04/05/03

Technically, it was morning. It was okay to wake him up.

Okay, it was really, really early. But still. Morning.

It wasn't actually light outside, but it would be. By the time they were done, maybe. Or by the time they got out of the shower, after they were done.

Peter turned on his side and eased toward Logan, closing the space between their naked bodies.

He was only inches away when Logan mumbled, "It's not morning yet."

He slid up against Logan's bare back. "Does it look like I care?"

"I dunno, but it sure doesn't feel like it."


Challenge: Open

Frenzy by Azurine (Logan/Peter, Ultimateverse)
Posted on 03/28/03

Then Logan did something completely unexpected: he kissed him.

Even though Peter knew what was he was going to do, he still couldn't quite believe it until it happened, until Logan's mouth closed over his, until Logan's tongue touched his lips. His own mouth opened to let him in and it was *good*. So good they stumbled, banged against the countertop. Something fell to the floor, probably broke.

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

"Wait, wait. . ."

"No."

"Upstairs. . ."

"Which room?"

"Don't care."

"Mine."

"Go."


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