Chapter Text
Logan is already waiting when he arrives sometime after one, nursing a bottle of Scotch that’s far too expensive to be on the bar’s drink menu. A stubbed out cigar - only half finished - sits forgotten in a dirty ashtray shoved to the side, a rather uncharacteristic move for Howlett, given his propensity for those foul smelling cancer sticks.
Not that either of them have to worry about getting sick, what with Logan’s healing factor and the foreign blood that runs rampant through Erik’s body. It’s what keeps them both young and healthy and nigh on immortal; Logan’s mutation, and the fact that Erik has the blood of a thousand year old vampire pumping through his veins.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Logan growls, setting the bottle down and grabbing Erik roughly by the back of the neck. They share a bruising kiss, devoid of any sentiment beyond lust, and Erik lets himself sink into it like he does each and every time he comes to the bar. Logan licks and bites like he wants to devour him whole, as though he hasn’t seen Erik in years instead of the few weeks since his last visit.
“We’re not doing this now, are we?” he says, when Logan finally pulls away, though not before rubbing his impressive bulge temptingly against Erik’s thigh. “I know you own the place and all, but you’ve still got customers to serve.”
Only a few patrons are left at this late hour, though knowing Logan, he probably wouldn’t care even if the place was packed wall to wall; the man is certainly ornery and contrary enough to throw everyone out if it suited his mood. Instead, he takes Erik by the hand and drags him behind the bar, shoving him into the back and into the tiny washroom that barely fits one person let alone two.
“Don’t you have to watch the bar?” he gasps, as Logan presses him against the sink, shoving his pants and underwear down with an impatient snarl. They’re not lovers exactly - more like two people who occasionally have sex - and they’ve never been particularly gentle or careful, but there’s something about the way Logan’s touching him tonight that sets his nerves on edge. “What if they take stuff and don’t pay for it?”
“Don’t care.” He can feel Logan unzip his jeans and take his cock out; hear him spit into his hand and jerk himself quickly before sliding between Erik’s asscheeks. “You better hold on tight, darling, 'cause I’m going to make you scream.”
“What are you–”
But Logan is already pushing in, slow but steady, driving the air from his lungs as he’s inexorably breached. The burn is heady, and the strain just the right kind of sting, riding the thin edge between pain and pleasure that makes Erik’s blood sing. He has to brace his feet to keep steady as Logan starts pumping his hips, clutching white-knuckled onto the sink as he’s vigorously - ruthlessly - pummelled.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Logan breathes, yanking Erik by the hair until he can’t help but stare at their reflection in the dingy bathroom mirror. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, my darling; my beautiful Erik. You’ve been a such a naughty boy, haven’t you? Breaking your promise and running away…and letting this beast of a man touch what belongs to me.”
He freezes, his body numb with shock even as Logan keeps fucking into him with almost vicious glee. It’s been years and he’s kept himself constantly on the move from place to place; it can’t possibly be–
“Charles?”
Did you think that I’d never find you? whispers the voice in his head, as Logan unsheathes his claws and slices a fine line into his neck, clamping his mouth down hard as the blood starts beading on his skin. Did you really think, Erik, that I would truly let you go?
No, Charles, I–
And then there’s nothing but ecstasy as Logan drinks and drinks and drinks from his cut, and Erik is coming with Logan’s cock in his ass and Charles’ mental presence all around him–
The last thing he hears is that voice, as possessive and darkly amused as ever, just as Logan groans loudly and comes inside of him…
I can’t wait to taste you again, with my own mouth.