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failing-at-sex · 30 days ago

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Monster

Moceit (Patton x Janus) Hypnovember 2020 Day Eighteen: Monster Warnings: hypnosis, bear-hybrid patton, incubi janus, sex, biting, hickeys

Patton stops what he's doing to stare towards the entrance of his cave, where he knows a new creature is standing. Though Patton can't see it from how far away he is - even with his glasses on - he can smell it. Being a bear hybrid provides him with an enhanced sense of smell, and quite a large memory bank filled with different scents and the animals or objects they're attached to. It smells too spicy to be a deer, too earthy to be a fish... Hm. His face raises slightly, and he sniffs harder in hopes it'll give him a better whiff, but it's just the same complex, unrecognizable smell that started just minutes ago, and hadn't decreased in intensity.

And so Patton sets down the animal fur he was holding. He was in the middle of sewing it into yet another nice blanket for him to hibernate in due to the intruding winter, but with something lurking at the opening of his den, Patton knew he had to be on guard.

It was likely prey of some kind - perhaps a small cub that had wandered too far from its parent - or maybe another hybrid, which would explain the unfamiliar smell. But Patton had to keep in mind it could very well be a predator preparing to fight him for the rights to his home, which meant Patton had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of confrontation. He doesn't want a fight, but he will if it comes down to it. There's very little he values over his life, and one of those things just happened to be his den, which he ironically needed to live anyway.

His back cracks as he forces himself to stand at full height, before he slowly stalks towards the entrance of his den. And very quickly a being merely half his size comes into view.

It looks like a hybrid, with digitigrade legs and what look to be scales along half its body, but as Patton nears the creature suddenly a surplus amount of snakes wrap around its head, hissing when Patton gets too close.

"Boys," the creature speaks, seemingly addressing the snakes on his head. His voice comes through muffled, as the snakes seem to protectively curl around his face when threats come too close. Despite this, Patton can make his words out clearly. "Calm down. He's more scared of us than we are of him."

"Who are you?" Patton questions, as the snakes slowly part away from the thing's face, revealing human features with reptile accents. Scales cover half his countenance, with two wildly bright eyes, and sharp fangs in his mouth. Patton slumps over slightly with noticeable fear. He has the size over this creature - being twice its height and probably four times heavier - but snakes have venom, and he knows a predator like that wouldn't pick a fight against something it knew it couldn't win against. Patton swallows the spit in his mouth. "What are you?" he adjusts his question to ask. "Some kind of... snake hybrid?"

"No," the snake-thing answers simply. "I'm just... someone looking for sanctuary. It's awfully chilly out there, and I'm not in the warmest of clothes. Won't a kind stranger such as yourself provide comfort, and perhaps a nice meal to a lowly beggar like myself?"

Patton hesitates. His sympathy for this poor thing being left out in the cold is quite intense, as someone who was made to withstand cold weather and still feels quite chilly every now and again. But still, he mumbles "well..." as he debates whether or not leading someone he doesn't know inside his den is a good idea.

He knows it's foolish to welcome strangers into homes. Soon enough they'll be taking over and kicking you out! That's the way things work out in the woods. There have been plenty of bunnies driven out of safe holes by foxes, and Patton fears the home he's worked so hard to cultivate will be stripped from him at the first bite from this creature's mouth!

But... Patton just can't turn him away! The clothes he's in are far too thin for the breezy fall nights, and the incoming winter.

"I promise I won't make a mess of things," the thing insists, as though it senses Patton's defensive walls crumbling. "I'm honestly just famished, and too tired to continue my journey through these woods. Can't you spare a warm nest and a quick meal for someone as helpless as me?"

Patton's weight shifts back and forth on his feet, before he sighs in relinquishment. "One condition," he says, as his heartstrings are tugged on by the way this poor snake-like being dramatically shivers. "You tell me your name. If I'm providing you with shelter, then I must know who I'm welcoming my home to. Besides, it's only polite."

The creature seems amused by Patton's request. "Of course, of course," it says, before smiling wide. "I'm Janus. And you?"

Patton musters a small smile, a bit more eased by Janus's presence now that there's a name to go with his face.

"Patton," he answers, and then without thinking Patton crouches down slightly to sniff at Janus's body, which he does whilst crawling around Janus on all fours in order to memorize the way this new person smells. He circles around Janus twice, with his nose starting near Janus's odd, goat-like cloven hooves and then traveling up over his legs, torso, and face, before he repeats the process.

And Janus stands perfectly still as he does so, understanding it's only natural for a hybrid like Patton to get to know Janus by first learning his scent, though he does warn Patton "be careful around my snakes. They don't like to listen to me, and they enjoy gifting out love-bites to any wandering limbs," when Patton's curious sniffing gets a bit too close to Janus's head.

Patton stops his nose just short of Janus's... hair (though having snakes coming from his scalp hardly counts as hair) right as a few snakes curiously stretch their bodies towards him. A couple tiny tongues flicker towards his nose, and so Patton whips away, covering his face in the process. Though none of them try to bite him.

"Noted," Patton squeaks into his palms, before shaking off his nerves and turning to head deep into his den. He glances behind him only once to make sure Janus is following him, before explaining "I don't have a spare room or anything; it's just me in here, but my nest should be big enough for the both of us if you don't mind sharing." He glances at Janus, who he notices doesn't bother looking around at the decorative bones Patton's used to construct his cozy interior, nor the collection of furs proudly displayed across Patton's home. Janus only briefly glances down a tunnel that stores meat for Patton to either feast on raw or cook up, but then he looks back at Patton, as if Patton is the most delicious thing in this room. But Patton misses the hunger in Janus's eyes, and instead focuses on the snakes on his head. "There'll be plenty of space between us though, so..." Patton adds, as though it's a bonus, when in reality it's more so an assurance he won't be bitten in his sleep. "So, uh, you won't feel crushed or anything."

As they reach Patton's nest, Janus smiles softly while Patton nudges it with his foot. "It looks comfy," Janus politely comments, but rests a subtle hand on his stomach, reminding Patton of Janus's aforementioned hunger.

"Yeah." Patton rubs his hands together, his claws itching at his hairy arms. "Anyway, you said you were hungry, right? Best not to let a little thing like you miss a meal. You look like you might just wither away!"

"My kind can go days without eating," Janus counters. "Weeks, if we must. Though we try to stay full. I just apparently haven't been trying that hard"

Patton licks his lips. "Your kind...?"

Janus did say he wasn't a hybrid, and as Patton really inspects him he resembles one less and less. Even hybrids with parents of two different species tend to only present as one or the other, not both. And Janus's bent legs contrast with his snake aspects. Furthermore, snake hybrids don't typically have snakes growing from their head! So he wasn't a hybrid, he wasn't a consciousness animal, and he sure as hell wasn't human.

Janus chuckles at his obliviousness. "Yes. My species." Janus lets his words hang in the air for a moment, before elaborating "that of an incubi. Surely you've heard of them, yes? And how we have no interest in your middling meat or subpar vegetables. We're much more interested in... people like you."

Cautious, Patton steps backwards, but in doing so trips over the edge of his nest and falls onto a pile of thick furs and blankets. "Listen, Janus," he rushes to stumble out, "I do believe in animals getting the nutrients they need, even if it comes at the cost of other animals that need to... perish in order to permit another animal's survival, but- but we're not animals! And I'm sure my meat won't even taste that good!" Heart beating fast, Patton genuinely considers swiping at Janus as Janus joins him in the nest, but something about the genuine amusement in Janus's smile has him keeping his paws in a defensive position instead of an offensive one.

"Oh," Janus laughs, his entertainment coming out in the form of high-pitched dulcet tones that echo his musings throughout the stone interior of Patton's den. "Oh you poor little thing! Or... you poor big thing, I suppose. I'm not going to eat you." Janus makes a dramatic face of disgust, and sticks his tongue out, allowing Patton to see it's forked. "You'd just taste like any other animal to me, which would be bland and unsatisfying. It wouldn't fill me up in the slightest!"

Patton's fear eases slightly, though his confusion is still apparent. "Then... what do you eat?"

"Energy," Janus answers simply, crouching down at Patton's side. His hand gently cups Patton's face which he briefly strokes with his thumb, before his touch slides down Patton's front. "Pure, unfiltered, sexual energy. Transmitted by skin-to-skin contact. And you look like you're just full of stamina."

Struggling to make sense of it all, Patton meekly asks "so... will eating my energy hurt me... or something?"

"What? No! It'd be quite embarrassing to hurt my meals instead of pleasing them. You're not going to want to go more than a round if I do a bad job!" Janus shakes his head, as if he can't believe the question that's just been asked. "My goal is to feed, but in doing so you'll feel so incredibly good. And I suppose to reward you for your hospitality, I shall bestow upon you pleasure like you've never experienced before." Janus scratches under Patton's hairy chin, making Patton flush as he hears the soft scritching of Janus's nails as they adorn him with light affection.

Additionally, there's just something about the tone of Janus's voice that further puts him at ease. Despite the fact he hasn't had a visitor in his den in ages, nor another man in his nest... well, ever, he finds he doesn't find one to be an intrusion of any kind. In fact, Janus's fearless demeanor and affectionate behavior does plenty to urge Patton into letting all his fear and anxiety melt right out of his head.

Janus's fingers run down Patton's chest, and over his large stomach, before reaching the front of Patton's groin, where Patton's bulge is rubbed through his trousers.

"That is, of course, only if the big, strong, bear hybrid is willing to feed a poor, helpless demon like me." Janus's snakes slump to further amplify his pathetic demeanor, though the intensity in his eyes and the pressure he applies to Patton's bulge are anything but.

And Patton finds he just can't say no to him! Not when Janus is clearly in need! Even if the concept of having a demon in his den is terrifying on a surface level, if Patton searches deep in his heart he's reminded that they all need to eat, and if Patton wouldn't deprive a weak rabbit of some lettuce then why would he force an incubi to starve when he seemingly had plenty of energy to spare?

And so, Patton nods his head, causing his curly hair to bounce as his face moves slowly up and down. "Okay," he says. "Just don't take too much, okay? I need my energy to hunt."

Janus stifles a laugh. "You have more than enough meat stored up in that little 'food room' of yours. And if you're really exhausted by the end of it, then I'll generously add to your stockpile, so you won't have to worry about missing any food. Believe it or not, I'm quite a skillful predator in my own right."

Honestly, Patton doesn't mind the sound of that. He's never liked hunting - he feels far too much empathy for animals to take more than he'll use - but having someone to offer to hunt for him is amazing. And, with winter coming, it takes a bit of the pressure off of him to gather enough to keep himself satiated!

Janus shuffles closer to Patton's head, where his hands stroke Patton's rounded hair and his thick curls. "You know, I've never heard of a blonde bear before," he comments, as his sharp nails scratch at Patton's scalp gently enough to act like a pleasant massage. His many snakes lean down to Patton's body, and though he winces at first, he doesn't feel them biting him. Instead, he feels little licks or bonks as they nudge him, merely just smelling him to smell him and nuzzling against him because he's close and warm. "I think that makes you interesting, though. You're one of a kind! You're the only bear hybrid I've come across, too. Plenty of fox hybrids, and plenty of bird hybrids too. But bear hybrids?" Janus's scratches slowly go down the sides of Patton's face, where his nails itch Patton's beard. "If I would have known you were here, I would have come knocking much sooner. You'll feed me much more than slim, meek prey will."

As Janus's claws move to Patton's neck, Patton feels a wave of dizziness crash over him. It's hot and disorienting, and he slumps fully against the fur behind him. He lets out a confused moan as his body feels heavy. Janus smiles at him.

"Does it feel nice?" he inquires, as he moves his hands down to Patton's chest. "Can you feel all your thoughts, all your blood, all your energy traveling down, down, down to your cock?"

Patton's cock twitches in his pants, and it suddenly feels uncomfortable being restrained by fabric.

"I'm sure any succubus would lose their mind over you... which is why I'm glad I found you first. Most demons would notice your large stature and large bulge and think you'd be great to ride. But they miss littler things, like how a big guy like you so clearly desires submitting. Isn't that right, Patton? Don't you want to submit to me?"

Patton's head swells with thoughts of submission that weren't there before. To obey Janus's words, and let himself be used in any way Janus desires using him. "I do..." Patton breathes, a low, passive growl rumbling from his chest as Janus's hands finally move to the tent in Patton's pants, which he gropes and rubs, further stimulating it.

Janus grins knowingly. "I knew you would."

With skillful fingers, Janus has Patton's pants off in a matter of seconds, as though he's had plenty of practice. Patton's cock springs out the moment it's free, and it really is an impressive sight to behold. Thick, curly pubic hair framing a large shaft with a thick knot at the base. He'd be quite the mate to breed with, and yet Janus had little interest in doing much more than touching the thing (and even that hardly entertained him, aside from flicking it, as the small whimper a big beast like Patton lets out is utterly enthralling). He's much more interested in what's beneath Patton's balls, and underneath his thighs.

Because he feels it’s fitting, Patton also strips his shirt off, exposing his hairy front in full.

Janus smiles wide and eagerly. "Roll over for me, my sweet. Let me see my meal in full."

Patton doesn't at first, as a rumbling noise comes from him, making Janus smile as he rubs Patton's stomach.

"Oh, come on, dear," Janus scolds him lightly, "don't you want to be a good listener? Because good listeners are rewarded with great pleasure. And if you already feel good and mindless now, then just imagine how much better I can treat you. I am a demon, after all; I can do things your animalistic brain couldn't possibly understand."

Janus's claws drag down Patton's bare thighs, leaving red lines in their wake. Not deep enough to break Patton's thick skin, but firm enough for Janus to teasingly trace his name into Patton's flesh to subtly mark his property.

"Roll over, Patton," Janus again urges, as his hands scratch, scratch, scratch at Patton's legs, subduing irritating itches that Patton hadn't even realized were there. Pleasant heat erupts in the places Janus touches, and all the pleasure he feels goes straight to his cock. "I know I've already worked a lot of thoughts out of that brain of yours, but surely you can still follow simple instructions.”

It takes another moment - a moment just long enough that Janus starts to question his hold over Patton's mind - only for Patton to finally grunt as he rolls over onto his stomach.

The movement is heavy, as Patton is heavy, but as soon as he's on his stomach he's pressing his body deep into the furs beneath him, revealing his ass and small, rounded tail to Janus.

Patton's hips don't raise with instinctual submission, nor do his large thighs spread any further than just enough to allow Janus to sit between them, but these things are to be expected from any non-omega. And Patton certainly was no omega. But that didn't mean Janus wouldn't treat him like one.

"There we go," Janus coos, as he begins to tug down his own pants. Coating the inside of his underwear is a slick, lubricant-like substance that's dripping down his cocks like pre, except in excess. His body produces a natural lubricant to make sex easier. Getting somebody to agree to be fed on was already a hassle; having to prep them before sex would be miserable! Janus dips his fingers into his boxers, pumping his two shafts with one steady hand, until his palm is glistening with lube.

He uses his clean hand to pull one of Patton's asscheeks away from his hole, and then slides his hand against it, smearing slick along his entrance.

"Wow," Janus then comments, putting on an innocent display, "you're so worked up for me already! Can't you feel how wet you are?" Janus rubs more of his pre against Patton's hole, with one of his fingers slipping in only briefly, before Janus quickly pulls it out, not wanting to stretch Patton open just yet.

To Patton's calmed, clouded mind, he does feel mighty wet. Wetter than usual, at least. Alpha's don't produce slick; that's their mate's job. And yet here he was, feeling as though plenty of it was coming out of his hole and dripping down his crack. At some point, Janus even holds his hand to the side and whistles to get Patton's attention, where he then makes a show of spreading his fingers apart and watching Patton flush at the lines of slick that drip between the digits.

"Oh wow," Patton pants, "that all came from me?"

His glasses are halfway down his face, and his eyes are glazed over. Janus doesn't even know if Patton cares about the answer, as in his mind he's already determined that was his slick.

"Of course it did," Janus smoothly answers. "A sweet bear like you knows how to easily please his alpha, and what makes sex easier than lube?"

While not an expert on the breeding speak - Janus doesn't feed off many hybrids, though he's found them to be both reliable and satisfactory partners - he knows the basics, and though Patton moans softly at Janus's words, Janus feels the need to really hammer their dynamic into Patton's head. After all, Patton's brain seems like it's in the perfect state for a few alterations to be temporarily made to his line of thinking.

"You agree with me, don't you, sweetheart?" Janus sweetly asks. "You also believe that omegas are so good at making things easy for their alpha. So good in fact, they do it without thinking! That's practically a fact, isn't it?"

Patton licks his lips, and as he can no longer keep his head up and angled over his shoulder without there being a distracting pain in his neck, his forehead quickly finds its way onto a particularly soft piece of fur. "I... uh..."

Janus slides a finger into him, raising an eyebrow at the whine Patton lets out.

"Yes," Patton finally answers. "They... Their bodies... They do it..."

"Yes, yes. And your body is doing it. For me. Can you guess what that makes me, Patton? You already know the answer, but I want you to say it." A second finger slides into Patton with ease. Janus's slick causes Patton's skin to tingle, as though the lubricant-like substance has aphrodisiac-like properties. It makes him feel sensitive and hot, and as Janus scratches over his rear and down the back of his thigh, Patton finds his mind melting further and further.

"It's... it makes you... You're..."

Patton struggles to get any words out past his grunts and groans of enjoyment, with him getting carried away in the odd feeling of Janus's fingers inside of him.

The thrusting fingers weren't particularly big or intense, and caused little stretch to someone Patton's size, but it didn't have to. The slick being pushed inside of him made it feel significantly more so, and as more is rubbed over his hole and pushed into it by Janus's thrusting fingers, then the hotter and more needy Patton feels. He clenches around Janus's fingers, and as Janus pulls his hand away he unintentionally drags out a good bit of slick as well, making Patton shiver as it feels like he himself is actually producing it in the oddest yet most arousing of ways.

"That may be all you require," Janus teases, "considering you're already so desperate." Scratch, scratch, scratch over Patton's rear, down his thighs, and over his calves. "Isn't that right, my sweet meal?"

Patton feels his hips raise as Janus guides them up ever so slightly, and he holds them there. A fresh wave of desperation rushes over him, making him whine and nod his head.

Janus seems pleased now that the prep is over, and more than eager to pull his own garments down to his knees, fully freeing his two cocks from the confines of his trousers where they'd been hopelessly starved. His shafts are slick, and Janus only grabs them in order to keep them pressed together as he lines up to Patton's hole. This'll be his first time penetrating something so massive, but he finds that excites him more. Surely a being so large is just swelling with energy for Janus to feed on, and though Janus had subdued Patton's mind and body with knowing touches and persuasive words, there was a reason for that too.

Patton's nerves and hesitancy would only drain him of that sweet, delicious energy Janus wanted. He didn't seem opposed so much as he did scared of Janus upon Janus entering his home, but everybody fears what they don't understand! And what better way for Patton to understand Janus than to participate in the act of feeding? Furthermore, what better way for Janus to understand Patton that participate in the act of breeding. They were mutually benefitting here! Pleasure in exchange for food. Knowledge in exchange for knowledge.

Groaning as the tips of his cocks press between Patton's cheeks, Janus is already stunned by the energy he can feel. It's like having a delicious steak pressed against your lips, with its scent wafting up into your nose, and dribbles of juice making its way against your teeth. It's the briefest of tastes, but you know it's going to taste good, and you know it's going to be filling.

"My god," Janus mutters, with one of his hands grasping and holding Patton's ass to keep himself steady, "I can tell already that this is going to be great."

Janus scratch, scratch, scratches just enough to have Patton's mind flooding with anticipation that echoes Janus's words. This is going to be great, his mind repeats, on an endless loop, in a voice that sounds so sure of itself that Patton has to be sure of it too.

And Janus doesn't keep either of them waiting any longer.

He pushes in slowly, keeping a steady pace as his cocks both slide easily into Patton's hole. His own slick further coats the length of his cock, providing him easy entrance, and immediately a shiver runs through Janus's body.

He curses again, voice breathy as he pants. "Oh my," he breathes, "this is... you just..."

Janus's nails dig into Patton's ass, pricking the thick skin. Patton whimpers at the brief bit of pain, but then moans as he feels Janus push in all the way to the base. Janus's pelvis presses against Patton's hips, and Patton would be lying if he said he didn't feel the slightest bit more tired upon Janus entering him, though he realizes this is likely the transference of energy. This is what Janus feeding on him feels like. It doesn't hurt at all, but Janus had already assured him it wouldn't. It doesn't necessarily feel pleasurable either. But it does feel relaxing, and Patton's eyes flutter shut as he gathers an armful of furs and tucks them beneath his head. He buries his face in the pile, letting the fuzzy comfort further sedate him as Janus milks the energy from his body.

"You're going to be the biggest entrée I've had in ages," Janus confesses. "You're way bigger than a horny human, and you should have more stamina than one as well. I'm interested in a three course meal, if you're willing to provide."

Patton pushes his hips back against Janus in an almost affirmative manner. "Fine by me," he lazily mumbles, "so long as you get moving soon. Before I fall asleep."

Janus laughs at Patton's sweet, sleepy honesty. "I will, love," Janus chirps, "be patient. I want to make sure I don't overwhelm you too soon. Besides, you must let me sample your flavor. I must let it marinate as it soaks into me, refueling me completely. Don't you enjoy appreciating your meals? Fully focusing on the way they melt on your tongue?"

"My meals don't typically come in the form of copulating."

"Hm, it seems like somebody needs to relax." Janus scratches down Patton's thighs, once, twice, thrice... "Trust me, Patton, this will be better for both of us if you let me take my time. Don't you trust me? Don't you want to let me feast on my meal how I please? I'd never tell you how to cook and season a deer, now would I?"

Patton's eyes roll back into his head as he shifts his hips, rubbing his cock into the blankets beneath him. "Mmm, yessir..." Patton lazily mumbles, drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. Janus was sure Patton meant the term playfully, but he finds he quite likes picturing a big, strong bear like Patton respecting him. He knows he's powerful, but he knows that standing side by side with someone as big as a bear hybrid would automatically cause people to underestimate him. But Patton isn't underestimating him.

Patton is obediently submitting despite the fact his instincts would typically prevent him from doing anything of the sort. He'd easily fallen into Janus's control, and it'd taken a few brief touches and soft words to fully ease Patton's mind. He hadn't even used intense hypnosis! Just a few soft suggestions further amplified by a repetitive touch to cement his persuasions in Patton's brain. And now here he was, laying submissively in his own nest, letting a demon he'd just met feed from him as though he was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

"Sweet thing," Janus murmurs under his breath, pinching the fat on Patton's thighs. "You should know you taste utterly addicting. What intense, electrifying energy you store within yourself, and how kind of you to share just a smidge with me. Though we both know I came for more than a taste."

Patton shudders as he feels Janus's cocks pull halfway out of him, and moans again as they push back in. It's not a large stretch by any means - comparatively two of Patton's fingers inside of him would yield the same result - but it is a new feeling, and one that's still pleasurable despite Janus's smaller size. It's not just the penetration that feels good, but also everything surrounding it. Janus's words. Janus's touch. Janus's dominance.

What kind of person knocks on the walls of a den to ask for sex? Let alone that of a predator's home, and expects to be let in?

And yet Patton did let him in, and is letting him feed, and is enjoying it above all else.

Janus sets a slow pace with him, dragging his cock out before pushing it back in, though there is rhythm to his thrusts. He has experience, and that experience shows with his knowing movements, and the sensual way he caresses Patton's hips, massaging his rear and his love handles until Patton's groaning out Janus's name against his nest.

He can see sweat glistening on Patton's hairy neck, sticking to the hair that runs down his body. As Janus leans down to swipe his tongue along a bead of perspiration, his snakes behave similarly, and Patton whines as he feels a bunch of little tongues swipe across his back. Patton feels a twinge of fear as he thinks about how easily they could bite him, but they don't, resorting to just smelling him and nuzzling against him like the affectionate reptiles they seem to be. But Janus doesn't spare Patton from his teeth, as Patton feels Janus lightly bite his back, sucking a dark hickey into the skin. He's careful not to puncture Patton's flesh, but that doesn't stop him from nibbling it, as he bites, sucks, and kisses in a pattern along Patton's spine.

Patton groans as Janus leaves hickey after hickey along his back. "I'm just marking you up," Janus assures Patton, though Patton's hips roll against the furs underneath him out of arousal. "Hybrids like you enjoy that prospect, don't you? Warning other alphas against mating with omegas that aren't theirs?"

As Patton moans excitedly, he breathily asks "does that mean you're claiming me as yours?"

Janus thrusts all the way in again, and is met with a surge of fresh energy rushing into him in response, urging him to tighten his grip. "Not yet," Janus replies, though he starts to speed up his movements as having food in him in turn gives him energy. Energy he uses to hasten his feeding. "Though, if you keep tasting this good, I just might have to. I wouldn't want you committing yourself to some hybrid, dedicating your body to them, and then depriving me of the best meal I've ever had. Likewise, I doubt I'll ever be able to feast on anyone else, as I wouldn't be able to stop the comparisons that'd arise during sex. They wouldn't feel like you. They wouldn't taste like you. They wouldn't fill me up as well as you do." Janus kisses Patton's back seconds before he moans, and begins pulling his cock out farther just to get more leverage when pushing it back in. "You can't even begin to fathom how delicious you are. It'd be such a waste to permit other hybrids to claim you, especially when they wouldn't value you like I do. They wouldn't make you feel as good as I do."

Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Janus moans as Patton clenches around him, and Patton grunts in turn as his cock leaks steadily underneath him soaking into the furs that he then ruts against, creating a moist surface for his cock to fuck, satisfying his alpha instincts to a degree (though, there isn't much left of those instincts following Janus's playtime).

"Please..." Patton breathes, as his body seems to overheat. More sweat runs down him in glistening streams, as his ears twitch on his head and his tail bobs back and forth with each thrust into him. He's never been bred like this, and in reality he's never mated before. He's never had a mate to breed with, and is an alpha anyway so he'd traditionally never submit to someone. And yet he's here with Janus, and it feels amazing.

"You don't have to beg," Janus assures him, "your pleasure brings me nothing but delight. Move your hips and touch yourself however you may please, as it'll only feed me further."

Patton does not need to be told twice, as he rocks his body in tandem with Janus's increasingly fast thrusts. He can't convince himself to move much faster than weak grinding due to the energy being sapped from him, but what he can do makes his cock drip. Patton bites his bottom lip, and then his mouth opens as he growls out noises of ecstasy. His sharp teeth dig into the furs brushing against his face, as he bites down to keep himself composed, though he very quickly (and unintentionally) ends up tearing through the hide as Janus's cocks brush against his prostate.

Both Patton and Janus jolt at the feelings that rush through them both.

Patton's hit with an intense wave of pleasure whilst Janus is immediately filled with that same energy, as Patton's arousal is directly converted to sexual sparks that flows through Janus instantaneously.

"Again!" Patton grunts, in a matter that's quite a bit demanding considering his position, but not unusual for an alpha. He's not asking Janus. He's telling him to.

And though Janus wouldn't normally take orders from a meal, hitting Patton's prostate benefits him too, and it fills him pleasantly full.

"Does that spot feel nice?" Janus teasingly asks, and isn't in any way surprised by the guttural groan he gets in response.

"Yes," Patton moans out. "Feels so... so..."

He doesn't have the energy required to finish his sentence, and frankly he doesn't need to. Janus knows what he means, and he's confident of that, though he's less confident he'll be able to keep himself awake through his slowly approaching climax. With each slap of Janus's hips against his own, more and more energy is sucked out of him. Like getting so cozy in bed that it gets harder and harder to keep your eyes awake.

Janus repeatedly thrusts into Patton's prostate. He can't hit it too hard due to the length of his cocks, but his tips fortunately brush against it repeatedly, and it's intense enough for the two of them to continue making noises of ecstasy.

Janus is calculated in his repeated assault of that spot, causing both of them to moan. Janus grips Patton's body tighter and thrusts harder as Patton sinks further and further into the furs, groaning constantly, but steadily decreasing in volume as if he doesn't have the energy to be any louder. Meanwhile Janus's noises reach a pleasant crescendo as he gets louder and louder following his feeding, as he's desperate to soak in as much nutrients as he can, and his body works to make his satisfaction known. Each thrust only fills his body more and more, until Janus has developed a somewhat bloated stomach, looking as though he's quite literally stuffed himself full of Patton's energy (though it's a guarantee that a lot of that energy will have fizzled out by tomorrow morning as Janus's form progressively burns it off).

"You... you fill me up so good," Janus moans, which are an ironic set of words considering the position Patton's in. And still, Patton feeds off the praise, pushing his hips harder into the furs beneath him, fucking the animal hide with lazy force and persistent need. His abdomen swells with sweltering heat unlike anything Patton's experienced before.

His mind is fuzzy; he's not fantasizing about anything particular. He's just letting his body rock and tremble with pleasure as he's drained for all that he's worth; as Janus drinks him down gulp after gulp, filling each thrust with as much energy as he can before pulling away, only to thrust back in again moments later.

And with such nice, bleary pleasure coursing through his body, causing his hair to prickle as goosebumps form over his furry arms and legs, it's hardly Patton's fault he comes so soon! He hardly even registers his arriving climax until it hits him, in which case he's almost immediately snapped back to full, intense awareness as he clenches hard around Janus's shafts, squeezing Janus's cocks together and keeping the tips trapped hard against his prostate as he moans. His head falls back and his eyes roll far back into his head. No more pleasant fuzziness or the sweet stinging of the aphrodisiac, and no more pleasantries brought on by Janus's scratch, scratch, scratching. For just a singular moment Patton's adrenaline overwhelms his body and mind, and a cry escapes him, before he slumps forward into the blankets. Heavy breaths fall from his open mouth along with thick drool, as Janus continues pleasuring him. Feeding from him.

His cock twitches and spurts thick ropes of semen; his knot swells inside the furs he's been fucking into. And just as quickly as that electrifying energy washed over Patton does it disappear, and seem to travel right into Janus instead, who bites his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he digs his nails hard into Patton's hips and shoves his cocks as hard as he can into Patton. His pace is no longer calm and calculated, but instead messy and desperate. He moves quicker and firmer than he has been, fucking Patton with such intensity that Patton lets out an overstimulated whine into his nest, burying his face in his furs to muffle his sounds, before letting out a final, breathy moan as he feels Janus's teeth sink into his back with a sense of finality, punctuated unsurprisingly with the feeling of come being deposited into Patton's hole.

It's a new feeling - and an odd one at that - but Patton finds himself clenching nonetheless as he tries to keep the semen and Janus's cocks inside of him. Though, that action seems to make Janus laugh.

"My dear, if I stay inside you then I'll just keep feasting on you until you wither away," Janus teases him, his voice sounding a lot more intense than before. It wasn't bad, it was just full of significantly more emotion and inflection. Patton finds he quite likes it. "I know how much your silly little omega instincts must be insisting that I need to knot you, but I guarantee a brood of cubs is the last thing you need right now."

As Janus pulls his cocks out, Patton feels the last of his energy go with it, and he feels so tired and weak that he's not even sure he can roll over if he tried. And any shift of his hips makes him whimper as his overstimulated cock rubs against the different textures surrounding it.

With Janus's guidance, Patton ends up on his back with a groan, feeling Janus's orgasm steadily drip out of him. His own stomach is glistening with a mixture of his own mess that he'd been laying atop of and sweat, though Janus doesn't seem to mind the mess as he drags his finger along Patton's torso, from his chest to his naval, piling up a finger full of a sweat-slick-come mixture that Janus seems to momentarily admire before he brushes the mess back against the nest.

"You really did taste quite delicious," Janus then says, though Patton only lets out a slurred bit of gibberish in response, making Janus chuckle as he's unsure whether or not Patton's even processed the words he's said.

So, he maneuvers to Patton's side, where he lays right next to him. Patton's head lazily falls to the side, making eye contact with Janus despite his clearly exhausted demeanor.

"You don't mind if I stay the night, do you?" Janus inquires, his voice a playful whisper. "I likely won't sleep or anything; not when I'm this full of energy, but I'd be more than willing to bring fresh meat to your pile, and help you get the deep slumber you likely crave."

Janus's fingers brush against Patton's chin, scratching it sweetly. Patton's eyes flutter shut, relaxing into Janus's touch.

Janus chuckles softly, under his breath. "See how much I'm already helping? And you did feel good, didn't you? Surely you'll feel good enough to go another round in a few hours... And of course I'll reward you with more pleasure, more food of your own, and more rest. Bears like you enjoy napping, don't you?"

One of Janus's hands comes to rest on his own stomach, which is swollen with energy. If he kept feeding from Patton, then his lithe figure would dissipate in a matter of weeks! Patton's hardly even listening to him, but a small smile stretches across his face. "That really was quite fun..." Patton grumbles. "Not exactly how I expected my night to go, but it turned out good anyway. And I suppose having somebody else around the den would be a lot less lonesome..."

Janus scratch, scratch, scratches beneath Patton's chin, causing Patton to reach for him and pull him close. Janus is startled by the sudden, cuddly affection, but the warmth radiating off of Patton's body is quite nice, so Janus soaks it in while he can.

"I'll let you get a few hours of rest," Janus murmurs. "And then you'll be up again to feed me. Doesn’t that sound nice?"

Patton lets out an affirmative grunt in response, as he forces their bodies close together.

To sweeten the deal, Janus also whispers "I'll even claim you if you'd like me to, though I suspect you'd like to have a clearer head before making a decision like that. The offer stands though, if you ever decide you want to take me up on it. I'd be more than satisfied sticking with you for the rest of your life, considering how fulfilling you've made my night." Janus’s snakes come to kiss and rub against Patton’s arms, affectionately nuzzling him.

Patton shivers, whining as Janus's nails trace across his nude body in patterns unrecognizable to Patton's clouded brain. He's not trying to sway Patton's decision this way or that, but he is trying to further coax Patton into a deep sleep, which Patton's easily guided into.

He doesn't respond, but he isn't expected to. And very shortly thereafter, soft snores begin to emit from Patton, as he lets himself slumber after a rather interesting day.

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failing-at-sex · 3 months ago

Text

What You Need

Synopsis: Two days without eating and three without sleeping sounded like the normal schedule for college student Logan Berry. He’s in class all day and works all night just to barely pay off his rent every month. Constant bills leave little room for bare necessities, and it’s clear that his current lifestyle is very damaging. While looking for solutions, he comes across one that seems… mediocre at best, but he’s desperate. What is this solution? A sugar daddy.

Taglist: @witchesgetstitchesblog @book-limerence @romans-dull-creativity @seeyoube @dragonheart905 @some-distant-star @rr170 @nightweirdo @librowyrm @kitkat4406

Part Twelve

Masterlist

"Are you and Roman doing anything special for Christmas break?" Logan asks, as he drags a stuffed suitcase closer to his front door. Janus watches him jog through his apartment - checking food expiration dates, making sure there are no dirty dishes, and putting away any stray books or classwork that's strewn over tables and counters. "Since we have a few weeks uninterrupted, and all."

"Nothing specific," Janus yawns, shifting deeper into the couch to get comfortable. "Nothing like what you're doing. I still can't believe Remus asked to come with you to your parents house. Even I wouldn't have considered him to be this attached."

Logan raises an eyebrow as he turns towards Janus. His voice is filled with sheer curiosity as he asks "does he seem attached?"

Janus snickers at the question. "He doesn't seem attached; he is attached. He might be worried that you'll find a hotter and younger sugar daddy while you're back home with your folks. Roman was like that when our relationship first started."

"Really? How so?"

"Well..." Janus hesitates for a moment, as if lost in thought, before reciting "when he met me, I was at a... coffee shop. Working the register. Plenty of people come in and out of there every day, and so even though he offered me a job, he knew somebody else could come in and do the same thing! Perhaps even the man in line behind him!"

Logan pauses what he's doing. "That hardly answers my question," Logan states, before curtly adding "and you told me Roman was recommended to you by a friend. What's this whole coffee shop story about?"

"Shit, did I?" Janus sits up, tapping at his chin, "I swore I used the barista fib with you..."

Frowning deeply now, Logan wraps his arms around his waist. "You lied to me?" he echoes, which has Janus looking up from where he was mindlessly staring at the floor. He takes a moment to study Logan's face, before sighing softly.

"It's nothing personal, Logan," Janus assures him, in a tone that reads as undeniably honest. "It's just... Truthfully - and this time I mean it with complete earnestness - it's not a story I'm particularly proud of. The way Roman and I met was... unique. In a bad way. In a humiliating way, even, and it's not something I'm comfortable sharing. Even with you."

Though Logan's face continues to reflect hurt for a minute or so, it softens quickly as he actually internalizes Janus's words. With a sigh of his own, Logan replies "then say that next time." As he turns back to his sink, he checks it for the third time, making sure it's empty of utensils, flatware, and any sort of grime that'd end up fused to the cheap steel. "I don't feel entitled to your past. Anything you're willing to tell me, I'm happy to listen to, but if there's anything I ask that crosses a boundary, then I'd prefer you just say that rather than purposefully feed me misinformation. It's unkind."

Janus chuckles softly at Logan's choice of words. "Noted," he swears. "No lies from me from here on out... probably."

Logan shoots Janus a narrow glare, though the small smile on his face reveals his true, playful intentions. Janus grins back at him, smiling wide and dramatically, before stretching out back over the couch cushions.

"Remus is meeting you here, right?" Janus then questions, as he pulls out his phone and begins scrolling through it. Logan bends down to tie his shoes as he nods.

"Yeah. He should be here any minute now."

"Do you have your plane ticket?"

As he stands, Logan shakes his head. "Remus said he'd take care of it. All he said was to tell him the city my parents lived in, and he'd purchase the tickets. Since he invited himself along, I think he wanted to pay to make up for the slight shift in plans."

"Do your parents know he's coming?"

"Of course they do." Logan runs his fingers through his air as he looks over his suitcase again. He's tense. He's anxious. "I told them that Remus would be coming as soon as Remus declared to me he'd be coming. They were going to pick us up from the airport, but my mom doesn't think she'll be back from her shift in time to make it when the plane lands, and my dad will be working on dinner. So Remus and I are going to uber."

Janus glances up from his phone. "What do they think Remus is? A college friend? Your boyfriend?" Janus gives Logan a sly look. "I mean, you didn't tell them he was your sugar daddy... did you?"

Choking slightly on his spit, Logan quickly brings his fist to his mouth to muffle his coughs, before rushing to clear his throat. "I absolutely did not," Logan huffs, as he fetches his own phone from his pocket. He nervously checks his messages for any sign of Remus, with his eyes darting rapidly between the time at the top of his screen, and his recent direct messages. Everything he sees makes his stomach twist. A minute passing, and no incoming text from Remus. "They think he's just a friend I've made while in town."

Janus snorts. "Like you go around town. Before the twins, you'd just go to school, go to work, go home, and repeat."

"I could have met someone on those walks, or coming into the store!"

"Yeah but you could have also just said he was in one of your classes."

Logan bites his bottom lip. "I don't like lying to my parents. And what would have happened if they decided to interrogate him on his studies? What would he say? He wouldn't know a singular thing about astrobiology, aside from the fact it's derived from the bare components of astronomy and biology." He begins to pace back and forth in front of the couch. "I couldn't just say he was in a calculus class of mine too. My mom loved calculus in college; she was excitedly teaching me derivatives and logarithms by the time I was ten. She wouldn't be able to keep herself from writing out practice equations for Remus and I to solve in order to 'keep us stimulated' while away from class." His phone is lifted, scanned, and lowered again. "And I don't take any art classes, which is something Remus would actually excel at. So there wouldn't be any believable overlap."

"You're overthinking this," Janus says, "you can just say stuff without bothering to elaborate."

"Not to my parents, you can't." Logan leans against his counter, positioned so that he can both look at Janus, and stare at the door. "They like to talk, and they especially like to talk about academics. Any lie I told would easily be picked apart."

"Are your parents detectives or something?"

Logan huffs out a soft laugh. "Well my dad's a lawyer."

"That explains it." Janus fidgets with a golden ring on his finger that stands out against Janus's otherwise dark and modest clothing. "What about your mom?"

"A doctor. A surgeon, specifically."

"Jesus..." Janus mutters. He shakes his head side to side while chuckling in disbelief, before suddenly sitting up straight. "Wait. Your dad's a lawyer, and your mom's a doctor... and you had to become a sugar baby? No offense or anything, but you sound like the trust-fund baby poster boy! They don't send you any money?"

Shrugging, Logan again wraps his arms around himself. "I don't ask them for money. They don't really believe in 'handouts.' According to them, I should be independent enough to figure out a solution to any problems that arise while I'm away at college... including financial struggles. They know I got scholarships that fund most of my schooling... I just don't know if they've realized that the prices of everything else is what's killing me. Rent is high, food is expensive, I don't have good enough credit for a car..." Logan puts his head in his hands. "The money I saved up going into college is all gone. And before I met Remus, I had nothing left. I think I asked them to help me cover rent once... and the disappointment in my mom's voice came through so clearly that I haven't been able to even think about doing such again."

Janus slumps over onto his thighs, before offering a strained smile. "Yeah. Parents are... complicated. I bet they think they're teaching you to be self-sufficient."

"They are."

"They can do that without making you feel bad for almost becoming homeless." Janus waves his hand back and forth. "But they're a product of their time, I suppose. And you're doing great now! I no longer pity you every time I step foot into your living room!"

Logan snorts. He goes to give a suave response to Janus's clearly teasing words, but loud, rapidly approaching footsteps silence both of them. And then Logan's apartment door is being unceremoniously thrown open, with Remus stumbling inside.

"Sorry I'm late!" he exclaims, as he rushes to Logan and shoves a crumpled ticket into his hand. "Figured you'd want a physical copy of the ticket but then discovered our printer was broke, and our parents just got home from one of their fancy-shmancy business trips so they were talking mine and Roman's ear off, and I basically had to just sprint away from them at some point in order to leave. But I'm here now! And we have to get to the airport!"

Logan's stomach flips with anxiety, and he feels suddenly queasy, but Remus is grabbing Logan's suitcase and dragging it out of Logan's apartment before Logan can even greet him.

"I'll meet you at the car!" Remus shouts, as he can be heard practically jumping down the stairs, leaving Logan dizzy where he stands.

Janus laughs outright at Remus's enthusiasm, before flashing Logan a grin. "Looks like he's more excited than you are," Janus jests, making Logan shift his weight back and forth on his feet.

"Yeah. Seems that way."

"Nervous about going home?"

Logan gives Janus a confused look. "No? Why would I be? My parents and I have a pleasant relationship; I wouldn't be staying at their house for a few weeks if I didn't actively want to be there."

"You seem tense," Janus observes, "I'm just trying to pinpoint where that stress is stemming from."

A bit embarrassed, Logan mumbles an apology, before saying "it's... it's about flying. I don't like planes. And yes, I know they're statistically safe, even safer than cars. But that doesn't alleviate my worry! There's just so much that can go wrong and..." Sighing, Logan double checks to make sure his wallet with his ID is in his pocket, before shoving his ticket into the pocket with it. "And honestly, I have to leave. We're already running late, and the last thing I want is to have to spend the night in one of those airport terminals. Or find a hotel."

"Yeah, both of those outcomes sound terrible." Janus stays spread out on Logan's sofa. "I'll house sit while you're gone. Did you already pay rent this month?"

"Yes, but I won't be back by January first." Logan curses. "I didn't even think of that. I won't have time to get a money order..."

"Calm down," Janus immediately quells him, finally stepping off the couch. His hands run over Logan's shoulders in a way that makes Logan flush. "I'll cover January's rent for you. Consider it a Christmas gift... because I didn't get you anything else." He winks, and then shoves Logan towards the door. "Now hurry up! You're going to end up missing your flight at this rate."

Nodding quickly, Logan scrambles to check for the third time that he has everything he needs (of which just being his ID, his wallet, and his apartment keys, as Remus had already taken his bag), before waving bye to Janus and heading out the door. Remus is parked in front of his apartment building, and Logan's hands fumble with the buckle as soon as he gets into the passenger seat.

"All ready?" Remus asks, though he waits just a few seconds for Logan to nod before slamming on the gas, causing Logan to jerk and roughly hit the seat behind him due to how fast Remus accelerates.

"You're going to get us pulled over," Logan stresses, but Remus's hand just grabs Logan's thigh, rubbing it in that familiar fashion, and so Logan's worries are silenced as he tries to enjoy the car ride instead. He pushes himself further back into his chair, sucking in a deep breath, before setting his hand atop Remus's and trying to imagine they're driving home from the airport.

He's not in the front seat... he's in the backseat, with Remus beside him. Their uber driver is erratic with his turns and ignores the speed limit, but that's fine. Whatever gets them home quicker. They're not on their way to the airport; they're leaving the airport, and will stay away from it for four whole weeks...

However, Logan's quickly snapped out of these meditative thoughts by Remus slamming on his breaks.

"Damn," Remus hisses, "does everybody try to vacation during Christmas?"

Logan can't help but smile. "Well, yes. Especially since we're in a college town. Either they're going home to visit family, or their dorms have closed for the next few weeks so they have to find some way to kill the time."

"Yeah well they're in our way!" Remus's bottom lip juts out in a pout, and since they're at a complete standstill in traffic he takes his hands off the steering wheel in favor of crossing them over his puffed chest. "Logan, my sweet, sweet sugar baby, if you ever become okay with vehicular manslaughter you have to let me know, okay? Because I can speed up at least half our trips if you just let me hit a pedestrian every now and then..."

A laugh bubbles up from Logan's throat. One that he's unable to muffle in time. "You can't kill people, Remus," Logan scolds him through his smile, "then we'd be stopped by the police and questioned, and that would really waste our time."

"Easy solution you may not have considered," Remus objects, leaning over the center console to touch his nose to Logan's, "I just run over the cops, too."

Logan smiles, and lets Remus lean forward to close the gap between them, before there's an obnoxious honk behind them. Immediately Remus is pulling away grumbling and turning all the way around in his seat to yell "kill yourself!" through his back window. Logan watches through the rearview mirror as the driver flips Remus off, and then watches Remus flip the guy off back, before he lands heavily back in the driver's seat and slams on the gas. The slow traffic that was previously hindering their drive had cleared during their chat, meaning the road ahead of them was able to be sped through.

Remus is still rather reckless with his driving, cutting in front of random cars and at some point moving from the leftmost lane to the rightest without signaling, but they don't die and they don't get pulled over, which Logan has come to consider a successful enough trip by Remus's standards.

Their car is pulled up the curb at the airport entrance, with Remus slamming crumpled up bills into the valet's hand and insisting "put us wherever!" as he tosses Logan a lime green duffle bag covered in weed imagery and grabs Logan's suitcase, before ushering Logan into the entrance.

"Can your suitcase fit in an overhead bin?" Remus asks, as they approach their first stop: security.

Logan glances at the luggage Remus is dragging, tagged with a simple blue ribbon tied around the handle. "No. It'll need to be checked."

"Will we have time to do that?"

Logan slings Remus's duffel around his chest in order to free up his hands, in order to grab his phone. "We should," Logan declares with a sigh of relief when he sees the time. "I honestly thought we were later than we actually are. We still have an hour before our supposed boarding time."

"What the hell? A whole hour?" Remus frowns at Logan's phone. "The way you were texting me made it seem like our flight was taking off yesterday!"

"Forgive me for being nervous," Logan sassily replies, "but airports aren't known to be the quickest place. Haven't you ever witnessed people running to their tunnels and end up not being able to board because they procrastinated showing up? My parents would always leave for the airport three hours early if we ever needed to go places. And if we were ever held up by security or if the plane decided to start boarding early, then we wouldn't be late."

Remus scratches his hairy chin, which is aligned with scraggly pieces of hair as it grows out. "I can't say I ever have. When Roman and I fly places, we typically take a private jet. We get to make the plane's schedule."

Logan sighs, as he and Remus move through the security line. "Of course you do."

With Remus standing slightly in front of him, he shows the woman behind the glass his ID before settling Logan's suitcase onto the conveyor. "You don't have a computer or anything in here, right?" he asks, while kicking off his shoes so he can set them in one of the yellowed, plastic bins, which are clearly decaying with use.

"No. There should be nothing in my suitcase that needs unpacked," Logan answers, as he shows his ID next, and begins doing the same. "What about you?"

Remus shrugs. "I have no clue. I haven't flown commercially since I was little... if ever, even. What typically needs to be removed?"

"Technology, liquids, batteries..." Logan lists, trying to think what he's been warned about sending through the x-ray. "Anything you think either might be dangerous, or might need to be set separately. Also take your belt off."

"Ooh, Logan-!"

Logan's quick to shush Remus as he undoes his own belt, and sets it in his bin. "It's metal," Logan explains, "and it'll set off the scanner they do.

"Logan, I'm covered in metal," Remus scoffs in response, motioning to the rings on his hands and the piercings stabbed into his ears. "If you think I'm taking all of this off, you're nuts. I might as well just let the machine go off and get patted down." Remus glances at the security officers, and points to a particularly scraggly one, with longer hair and tired eyes. "I wouldn't mind letting him feel me up, if you know what I mean."

Unfortunately, Logan does know what Remus means, but frowns anyway as he opens up Remus's bag to check for himself. "You may do what you please but I'm unhappy with your choice," he mumbles, as he looks through the unfolded clothes Remus has shoved into his bag. That's all he finds though. Clothes. That has Logan a bit surprised; he would have expected Remus to have packed a lot of things...

Wait.

Logan's hand hits something solid, and he digs it out of the fabric. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but he does know he's surprised to see a sketchbook once it's lifted from the bag. It's a standard sketchbook - recognizable by the cover detailing the paper's thickness, and the coiling, black spine holding the book together - but it has Logan's eyes lingering on it for a few seconds, and softening slightly. He only tenses back up when he hears the clatter of Remus finally pushing Logan's suitcase into the x-ray, and slamming his tray filled with his phone, belt, shoes, and as many rings as he could take off down as well. Logan rushes to do the same.

Predictably, the human-sized x-ray they all have to step in goes off the moment Remus sets foot inside, making Remus laugh. He makes a joke to the security officers that Logan can't hear, but can tell was inappropriate based on their uncomfortable and irritated expressions. However, after running a handheld scanner over him and patting him down, they seem to have found nothing, and so resume their positions.

Logan steps in next.

Even entering the machine makes him feel claustrophobic in a way he doesn't feel anywhere else. He watches black bars rotate through the tinted glass, but doesn't hear a beep, and so steps out when told to. He sighs once he gets a few paces away from the machine, and rushes to get his belt and shoes back on.

"That was a breeze," Remus whistles, once they've gathered all their stuff.

Logan doesn't even answer as he grabs Remus's bag, double checking to make sure Remus has grabbed everything out of his own bin, before pushing him towards the three huge screens hanging above the main hallway, which branches out into the separate terminals further down. He pulls the printed boarding pass from his pocket as he double checks the flight number, and then looks between it and the screen.

"The plane's on time," Logan announces, "which means it won't land for another half hour at most. And it looks to be in the same terminal. So we should head to the counter to get my bag checked first, and then we can head to the terminal."

"The planes can switch terminals?" Remus asks, as he follows Logan to a nearby counter. They have to stand in line, but there are multiple workers helping people with their queries, questions, and luggage. "How does that work?"

"If there's a delay or an altercation then sometimes a different plane will need to take a terminal reserved for the initial plane. Which means whenever that initial plane lands, it'll need to find its own place." Logan studies his boarding pass again as they wait. They'll need to make their way to B1 when they're done. "Honestly if something goes wrong earlier in the day, then everything at the airport goes wrong. That's why I hate this place."

Remus looks surprised, as he slings an arm around Logan's waist. "You hate this place?"

"Immensely."

Blowing a raspberry, Remus rolls his eyes. "No wonder. This sounds like Hell! Next time you want to fly anywhere, you should just tell me. I can take you on a jet and we can ignore all this obnoxious bullshittery."

Logan side eyes Remus. "I don't want to fly on a jet, either. I'd rather not fly at all. And a jet is far worse for the environment with the amount of carbon emissions they release. On average, they expel five to fourteen times the amount of pollution compared to a standard commercial flight."

"So... you're an environmental buff?"

Shrugging, Logan pulls forward when they're called. He politely asks if the woman will check his bag into their aircraft, and gives her the name and numbers attributed to their flight. As she double checks his boarding pass, Logan turns to Remus to answer "I care about the environment enough to choose commercial flights over a private jet. Though I'd rather just drive if I had the option."

"Isn't that significantly more tedious?"

"I don't mind tedium."

The lady behind the counter gives Logan a smile as she sets Logan's suitcase onto the conveyor belt behind her. Then, she waves them away, and calls the next people in line.

Now that that's over, Remus is forced to match Logan's determined pace as he marches past quaint, crowded airport shops and fast food locations crammed between both sides of the walkway. They pass A1, and then A3, and then they turn down a hallway, with Logan firmly pulling Remus towards B1, as he sees the sign for that area hanging further down the corridor. The waiting area for B1 is only half-full, with Logan guessing it'll progressively fill as more and more people make their way to the airport. With it being Christmas time, he doubts any plane will have empty seats leftover.

"I mind tedium," Remus finally huffs, as he's pulled into one of the uncomfortable, black folding chairs. They get a good look at the door that'll inevitably open up to the plane, and the woman who will inevitably scan their boarding passes bouncing back and forth between the front desk and her own podium. The man at the front desk is having his own time, as he's engaged in what looks to be a colourful conversation with an older couple. The couple's hands are flying back and forth as the poor attendant looks between his computer and the duo.

Remus nudges Logan to get his attention, drawing Logan's eyes away from the large windows giving them a clear view of the runway, and the planes that are both landing and taking off.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Remus asks, motioning to the commotion.

Logan stares at them, before giving Remus an odd look. "How am I supposed to know? I can't hear them from over here."

"I'm not asking you genuinely; think of it like a game." Remus pats Logan's thigh, before pointing at the man. "He's mad that his flight got delayed because he has an urgent haircut appointment scheduled to fix that rat's nest on top of his head. He's thinking about going bald. His wife, however, wants him to get a haircut like the attendant helping them, because she thinks he's cute. The attendant is secretly betting on horses to try and win enough money to get him away from this stupid job." Remus does a jazzy motion with his hands, finishing his guess.

Logan's confusion grows. "But... that's likely not what's happening. We can't hear them."

"Well yeah." Remus shifts a little in his seat, sinking deeper into it. "I'm not actually insisting that that's what their discussion is over. It's sort of like a... creative exercise to pair with people watching. You made extravagant guesses over what people are doing to pass the time. The less plausible, the more fun." Turning to the couple, Remus watches as they're handed what he assumes are new tickets, and then walks away. "Roman and I used to do it at those annoying business gatherings my parents would attend. Rich people become a lot less intimidating or uptight if you imagine they're all pitching self-cleaning toilets that not only scrub your butt clean, but scrub their bowls clean as well."

Smiling softly, Logan's shoulders droop a bit, and he finally removes Remus's bag from his lap where he'd placed it onto the floor. "That's actually a quite unorthodox solution," he murmurs, "but if it works, it works. What do you think the solution was? To that couple's problem?"

Remus's eyes gleam. "Why don't you tell me?"

"Oh. I'm not... I'm not great at being imaginative."

Squeezing Logan's thigh, Remus implores "try."

Though he initially chews his inner cheek, Logan tries to conclude the story Remus started. "Well, since they were given new passes, I assume the attendant found a different flight for them."

Remus raises an eyebrow.

Logan clears his throat, and continues "one that... would get him back in town on time to get his haircut. And she kissed her husband's cheek as they walked away, which means she's pleased with him. Which implies he compromised about his hair... and is no longer going bald, but is instead getting a trim and then letting his hair grow out. And the staff member that was betting on horse races seems..." Logan watches the guy groan and slam his head onto his desk. He grimaces. "Well, he seems unhappy, which I would assume means he lost all his money, and now he has to stay here helping more angry couples navigate the airport."

Clapping, Remus decides "now that is an interesting ending! See? You nailed it!"

Though he smiles softly at first, Remus ends up looking past Logan with awe, which has that sinking feeling entering Logan once more as he turns to see what's caught Remus's eye.

The plane - their plane - has pulled into the runway.

It careens into their terminal, and pulls up close to the door.

"How do they get the people from the plane back into the airport?" Remus asks, eyes wide. Logan feels incapable of answering at first, as he reads the plane's logo and follows the painted lines from the tip to the tail. Boarding would start as soon as everyone was off the aircraft. They'd be in the air very, very soon.

"It's..." Logan starts, before he shakes his head. He forces himself to look away from the plane. "There's this thing called a jet bridge. It's a moveable walkway they securely attach to the door of the plane and the terminal. There are supports underneath it and stuff. It's safe."

"Are we going to get to see it?"

"If you watch, you should."

Remus leans practically over Logan's lap to watch the men on the ground wheel a big looking stand over. Logan actively avoids watching as that walkway is opened, attached to both the terminal and the plane, and people begin pouring out of the door in the airport, scrambling to make their way to the baggage claim and down to the parking lot. More and more people come out of the large aircraft, and Logan finds it difficult to breathe as people's legs brush his knees or their feet make contact with Remus's duffel. Logan picks it up off the floor entirely when someone who's rushing outright steps on it.

“It seems kind of annoying to have to navigate around awaiting guests," Remus mutters, as he takes his bag from Logan, and kisses Logan noisily on the head. "But I guess this is convenient for the airport. I mean, imagine if the plane had to make one stop further down the runway, and then roll over here to be boarded again."

"Yeah, that would be annoying for the pilot..." Logan mumbles, as he watches the screen overhead flicker from saying "disembarking" to "now boarding: first class." Remus follows Logan's eyes to the TV, before the woman standing at her podium sweetly announces "first class passengers, please get in line for boarding," and then pulls out her scanner as a handful of people stand up.

One of these people is Remus, which begets him a nervous look from Logan.

"What are you doing?" Logan asks, as Remus pulls him out of his seat, "didn't you just get us tickets in economy?"

Remus gives Logan a dumbstruck look. "Why would I ever get you tickets in economy? Only the best for my sugar baby." Remus makes a dramatic kissing noise as he pulls out his ticket to show Logan his seat, and Logan rushes to pull out his own boarding pass to double check Remus's purchase.

Logan opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He stands there just staring at his ticket as Remus adjusts his duffel bag to be around his shoulders, before grabbing Logan's hand and pulling him towards the woman.

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief when she sees Remus, but she still wordlessly scans their tickets and waves them into the plane when she receives an affirmative beep. Logan's completely quiet until they step into the airplane.

He feels like he can't breathe even after Remus directs him to the spacious seat he'll be enjoying the entire flight. He settles into the window seat, rubs his thighs, and then immediately shakes his head.

"I've never been in first class before," he expresses, as he shuts the window's cover. "I've seen it before, of course, but I've never..."

"I did some research on it," Remus proudly declares, as he messily stuffs his bag into the overhead bin. "I compared the seat quality, the reviews of service, everything. I didn't really think capitalism would encroach into public aviation, but where there's a will there's a way!"

Logan glances to his right, and shakes his head again. "Remus, can we... can we switch seats?"

Remus - who was just about to plop down into the seat next to Logan (double seats, surprisingly; Logan had never seen airplane seats in duos as opposed to trios. But the size of these seats when pushed together definitely took up the same space as three chairs would) - seems shocked by the request. "You don't want to see the plane take off?" he asks, mouth agape.

"No. Can we switch? Please?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course we can switch."

Remus backs up into the aisle to grant Logan the space to step out of his seat, and then Remus slides into Logan's previous chair as Logan sets himself in the aisle seat.

"I can't believe you don't want to watch the plane takeoff," Remus sighs dreamily, as he lifts the cover Logan shut. "I love takeoffs! Watching the runway end... feeling the plane speed up... and the fact that most planes typically crash either during takeoff or upon landing! Which means those are the most exciting parts!"

Logan tenses. "Remus, please. I don't want to hear about stuff like that." His fingers dig into his armrests as he swallows the spit in his mouth. He feels Remus slowly turn to look at him, and his face flushes in humiliation as Remus just... stares.

Until finally Remus quietly asks "are you afraid of flying?"

Hearing Remus question his fear has Logan wanting to vomit everywhere... and they haven't even taken off yet! Logan glances to his side solely to gauge Remus's expression, and is somewhat relieved to see Remus looks a mixture of intrigued and concerned, instead of... mocking.

So, he nods, slowly.

"I don't like being so high up in the air," he murmurs. "It's... unpredictable. One bird gets sucked into one of the engines, we lose that engine. One bolt is a millimeter too small on the windows, a pilot gets sucked out. There are so many instances in which something trivial goes wrong, and tons of people die because of it."

Remus taps his chin. "Didn't everyone survive when the pilot got sucked out?"

Logan's head snaps over to look at Remus. "What...?"

"Yeah. If I remember correctly, the pilot was grabbed by an engineer or something? Maybe it was one of the flight attendants... Anyway, he was held onto by the other flight crew so he wouldn't fly into one of the engines. They thought he was dead because, obviously, he was hanging halfway out of the window in the cockpit and was being suffocated and rapidly slammed against the plane... but he lived, didn't he? And the copilot successfully directed the plane to safety."

"What?"

Remus glances around. "Am I allowed to search something up on my phone really quickly? I've heard stories about how not switching your phone to airplane mode can cause planes to spontaneously combust."

"They don't spontaneously combust." Logan leans over to watch as Remus brings out his phone, though he waits to turn it on until Logan answers him. "But you can use your phone regularly until we're about to take off."

"Sweet."

Logan watches as Remus pulls up his phone's search engine, and types "pilot who's pulled out of the window and lives," before showing Logan a picture of a bruised pilot smiling in a hospital bed with two men in ties sitting either side of him. The pilot is bruised and clearly injured, but also clearly alive.

"His name is Tim Lancaster," Remus hums, "and that slightly-too-small-screw almost killed him. Keyword: 'almost.'" Smiling cheekily, Remus clicks on an article and passes his phone to Logan to read. "I know this isn't super assuring or anything, but those flight attendants and co-pilot all thought super fast on their feet and sprung into action! And I'm sure it's standard procedure for any airplane worker to be trained on what to do just in case there are any issues."

Leaning closer to Logan's ear, Remus adds in a whisper "plus, we're in first class, which means we're super rich. That means we're likely to be prioritized in the event of an evacuation."

He winks and nudges Logan's arm, and Logan let's out a soft laugh, before passing Remus his phone back right as a stewardess makes her way to the front of first class and pulls out a life jacket. Over the airplane's speakers rings out another feminine voice who begins to explain safety procedures.

Logan glances at Remus to make sure he's paying attention, and finds Remus leaning forward eagerly, though Logan doubts it's because he's actually worried about their safety and more so out of morbid curiosity. That, and the fact Remus has apparently never been on a commercial aircraft, meaning he's never heard the standard safety spiel. Regardless of why he's listening, Logan's at least glad he is, and sets his hand overtop Remus's without thinking. Remus immediately folds their fingers together, and leans happily back into his seat once the flight attendant puts away her life jacket, her mask, and the seatbelt she was using to demonstrate, and announces to everybody to prepare for takeoff.

"I'll hold your hand through the flight," Remus insists, "so you won't be as scared. And we'll be at your parent's house in a few measly hours."

"I'm not sure if simply holding my hand will completely erase my fear."

"Can't hurt though, right?" Remus presses a dramatically loud - and wet - smooch to Logan's knuckles, before stretching his legs out. "And luckily, first class is supposed to provide plenty of distractions. I'm like ninety percent sure we get an entire-ass meal halfway through our ride. And complimentary alcohol!"

Chewing on his inner cheek, Logan utters "I don't really think I want either of us to be drunk during this flight," which has Remus reeling in a bit of his excitement.

"That's fine," Remus replies, "we don't have to drink. The option's just there in case you want it. Honestly, though, airplane alcohol doesn't seem like it'd be as good as-"

"Limousine wine?" Logan interjects.

Remus cackles loud enough for a few of the other first class passengers to look over and glare. "Limousine wine is delicious!" Remus proclaims, slapping his thigh, "and I guarantee it's at least six times better than whatever beer they'll bring out for any of these unlucky alcoholics." Remus juts his thumb towards an older man in the aisle opposite of them, but a row up. "I'm more excited over whatever they bring us to eat. I'm starving!"

"Did you pack any snacks in your bag?"

Remus whips his head towards Logan. "I was allowed to do that? We were never allowed to bring any food on the private jet! Not after I convinced Roman to help me dump animal crackers in every seat. I thought the animals deserved to be safe and comfortable during the flight, just like us! My mom thought it was very inappropriate to sit down and feel an elephant go up her ass. And I was like 'well Mom, that makes one of us!'"

"Well, I can't say I disagree with her implementing that rule..."

"Buzzkill." Remus blows a raspberry in Logan's face. "You should have seen how happy all those cracker giraffes and monkeys were. They were even happier going into my stomach."

"You still ate them after setting them on the seats?"

"Well duh." Remus picks at his teeth, and then swallows the plaque he scrapes off to temporarily satiate his hunger. "Why do you think my immune system is so good? Besides, they scrubbed that jet down hourly. It's not like any delicious germs were leftover for me to ingest."

Before Logan can respond, the seatbelt sign flashes on behind them, and the plane slowly starts moving. Logan immediately tightens his grip on Remus's hand, digging his nails into Remus's pale flesh, and leaving red indents whenever he shifts his grip. Remus lets him, though, and doesn't do anything but squeeze Logan's hand in turn.

"What's your favourite airline to fly with?" Remus suddenly asks, as they begin rolling through the runway. "I mean... I know you hate all of them, but if you had to choose, which one would it be?"

"Any of them, except for Delta."

Remus raises an eyebrow. "Is Delta that bad?"

"Delta is basically a death wish." The plane speeds up, and Logan's free hand grips his other armrest so tight his knuckles turn white. "I don't trust their planes, and their staff have always made me feel... immature. I don't like it. Literally any other airline is better than theirs."

Snickering, Remus inquires "alright, new question. Where do you prefer sitting on a plane? Front, middle, or back."

"The back," Logan answers instantly. "Planes typically nosedive when they crash, guaranteeing fatalities at the front of the plane. Obviously the passengers in the back don't fare much better, but the odds of survival are slightly higher when you sit back there, so it's a lot more comforting."

"So basically you hate me for getting us first class tickets."

Logan musters a small smile. "I don't hate you. I can simultaneously appreciate the thought you put into wanting me to be comfortable and spoiled while also feeling like this guarantees my death if this plane drops out of the air."

"Does that mean I shouldn't get us first class tickets on the way back?"

"Well, hold on now," Logan's quick to express, "I don't know how... comforting the first class experience is yet. Maybe the different treatment, the food, and potentially the liquor will actually quell my fears." The plane shakes right as Logan says that as they properly begin their ascent into the side, and Logan immediately presses himself as far back against his seat as he's physically able to.

The turbulence is hard on Logan's psyche, and even as he closes his eyes it only worsens his fears of the plane experiencing some sort of malfunction and crumbling back onto the pavement below.

He's never been much of an imaginative person unless it came to his fears.

While he wasn't the best at sitting down to write short, fictional stories, or coming up with what three strangers may be feuding about in an airport, his mind was surprisingly good at making him think any shake or jolt that causes the plane to quake means they're all going to die. Even when he tries to calm himself by insisting thoughts like that are illogical - as he knows planes are considerably safer than cars (which he survived his entire childhood riding around in the backseat of) - it's like his brain just won't listen.

"Hey," Remus suddenly pipes up, "have you ever heard of Juliane Koepcke?"

Logan cracks an eye open, shaking his head. "No."

"She fell from a plane, you know."

Logan lets out a queasy moan. "Remus, I don't want to hear about somebody dying right now..."

"Oh, she didn't die!" Remus gives Logan's hand a little shake, and turns in his seat so that he's fully facing him. Logan instinctively shifts a little too, so that he could see Remus fully. "That's the coolest part! The plane she was in basically ripped open. There was a hole in the floor and everything, and seats were being sucked out into the air-"

"Remus."

"Right, yeah. Anyway, Juliane basically grew up in the jungle. Her parents would study wildlife in the rainforest, and she and her mother were actually on their way to her father's research station! So aside from hunger problems she couldn't really solve, she basically followed the river until she found shelter. And - listen to this - in the shelter she found petrol, which she poured onto an open wound she had to kill the maggots that'd decided to make themselves cozy there! And then she was eventually found by some forest workers, who obviously brought her to the hospital."

"Woah," Logan breathes. "She must have been incredibly smart."

"She absolutely was." Remus wiggles his eyebrows. "Just like somebody else I know."

Logan shakes his head to disagree - feeling as though he would definitely not be able to do what Juliane did if in her situation - but he feels a bit of his anxiety melt away when he realizes the plane has steadied itself. He still gets uncomfortable when he glances out the window though, and sees a lack of ground beneath them. Without even looking back, Remus reaches behind him and shuts the window cover.

"I can keep telling you marvelous plane survival stories if you'd like me to," Remus proposes, which has Logan scoffing.

He grabs a pamphlet from his peripheral, where it's tucked into a pocket on the back of the chair in the row in front of them. He stuffs it into Remus's hands as he says "I'd honestly rather not think about the fact these people needed to survive their planes... regardless of how impressive some of these stories are. How about we watch a movie instead?"

"I thought my phone had to be on airplane mode!"

"There's plane wi-fi," Logan explains, as Remus's hand releases Logan's in order to fumble between his phone and the pamphlet. "I think you can access the movies offline, though. There's a limited selection, but I'll watch anything on there."

"As a distraction?"

Logan smiles. "Yes. As a distraction."

Remus's eyes dart between the pamphlet and his phone until a website loads up. Remus then unloads the tray in front of Logan, and props his phone up. "Do you typically watch movies while flying?"

"Sometimes. I mostly enjoy downloading audio books and reading along during the flight. If the story is good enough, sometimes I'll even be able to ignore turbulence. But movies are okay during instances where I may have forgotten to download a book or two..."

"Do you think they have porn on here?"

Logan's quick to cover his mouth to muffle that laugh, but does adjust his glasses as he answers "I'm afraid not. I'm sure if they did, it might make the cleanup between flights way worse than it already is."

"Sucks for them," Remus huffs, "I don't need porn to get me going. Not when I have the hottest bitch I've ever seen sitting so close to me..."

Remus leans in close, making obnoxious kissy noises in Logan's direction until their lips press together, before Remus lowers his voice to ask "seriously, though, have you ever thought about joining the mile high club? I've heard first class airplane bathrooms are roomy."

Because of his words, Remus finds himself quickly shoved away, as Logan turns his attention fully to Remus's phone. "Remus, I'm not going to get thrown off this plane because you can't keep it in your pants," Logan states, as he scrolls through the list of movies. "We can always..." he goes a bit red in the face and hesitates, before clearing his throat and lowering his voice as he says "we can always do something once we get to my parents place. My room is pretty separated from theirs, so as long as they go to bed before us, there shouldn't be a problem."

"Ooh," Remus wiggles his eyebrows, "have you, by chance, already thought of us doing some naughty things at your parents house?"

Logan avoids eye contact completely now as he taps on a random movie, hoping a film will help this topic shift. "Maybe. I like creating lists of things to do in general, and having a list of things I wanted to do while home for break may have contained a... a few hypothetical situations in which intercourse would be viable..."

"Sounds like you were planning out our fucks!"

Somebody looks behind them to stare at Remus again, and Logan fights to urge to slam his head down onto his tray out of humiliation.

"Aww, don't be ashamed," Remus teases, in a tone that only furthers Logan's shame. "I think that's stupidly hot! And it's not like you're the only one who does that. How many times have I pulled up to your dinky apartment, already knowing how and where I'm going to wreck your cute little hole?"

Logan turns the phone towards Remus, giving him a pleading look. "Not while we're on the airplane, please," Logan quietly begs, and Remus lets out a final laugh before wrapping his arm around Logan's waist.

"Fine," Remus groans, though he's extra dramatic in expressing his disappointment. "What'd you turn on?"

"An action/thriller, I think. I clicked so fast I'm not sure I even read the title."

"Lame. Never been much of an action/thriller fan." Remus digs headphones out of his pocket, and plugs it into his phone. He puts one of the buds into his ear, and hands the other to Logan, who gratefully accepts it. "I like those documentaries that talk about weird shit... Like anything about the ocean is fucking crazy. Or horror movies! Though a lot of the stories nowadays are the same regurgitated nonsense. I bet I could direct a killer horror movie... pun fully intended."

"I'd watch a horror movie you made," Logan says, before glancing towards the plane window again when the plane shakes slightly. Of course, the cover is shut, so he doesn't see anything, but he still nervously bites his bottom lip. "I'm... I'm sure it'd be more interesting than half the movies currently being pumped out. Your brain works so differently compared to everyone else's that I believe you'd introduce new ideas to the film industry that would have never been conceived before you."

Remus kisses the tip of Logan's nose. "Thank you," he smiles, "even if I can't tell whether or not that's an insult or a compliment."

"It's a compliment," Logan clarifies. "It's good to be odd. If everybody thought the same, the world would be a much more structured place... but a much more boring one as well." Then, as a joke, Logan adds "unless everyone thought like me. I think the world would be perfect in that simulation."

"I would love to exist in a world full of yous."

"In a world where everyone was me, you'd also be me," Logan objects, "but I suppose I'd also enjoy living in a world full of mes, so I guess your point still stands. Though I think I'd miss Janus, and my parents, and you and Roman of course. So ideally everyone but you five would be me. That way I could still enjoy your company."

Remus shifts a little in his seat. Logan isn't oblivious to him rescinding his hand from Logan's body, where he'd been affectionately petting Logan's thigh, and looking away briefly. But still, Remus jokingly responds, "aw, you really like us that much?" which has Logan scoffing.

"Of course I do. I wouldn't choose to spend my time with you guys if I found it uninteresting or problematic."

Remus smiles, but that's all he does, as he merely motions to his phone and states "we've missed the beginning of the movie. Why don't you rewind it so we're not contextless whenever the plot gets moving?" which is a suggestion that has Logan lighting up.

"Absolutely, I will! It'd be a pity if this happens to be a good film but we've missed too much exposition to properly understand the complexity."

Logan rewinds it, and then reaches for Remus's hand, but is a bit surprised when he notices they're buried deep in Remus's short pockets. Assuming Remus just wants to be comfortable, Logan rests his forearm on the armrest instead.

Having a movie to focus on helps about as much as Logan thought it would. It's easy to forget they're flying whenever the plane flies smoothly, but being tens of thousands of feet up in the air means the large aircrafts shake a lot more than a car would when faced with shifting air and windy skies. He still stiffens or trembles when there's turbulence, but surprisingly Remus being there makes things better. Whenever the aircraft rumbles particularly bad, Remus will conveniently ask a question about the movie.

"What does 'besmirched' mean?" Remus mutters, about an hour in.

"To besmirch someone is to damage their reputation," Logan explains.

About a half hour later, Remus is nudging Logan again. "What's that guy's problem with our main girl?" he asks, as if he's genuinely missed their conflict.

"He robbed her father," Logan reminds him, "and to get revenge she put his mother into debt, but framed it in a way that she thinks her son's done that to her. Now he feels, coincidentally, besmirched."

Right around the time the movie ends, a stewardess conveniently comes around to ask if they'd like drinks, and to pass out a small baggie of peanuts or pretzels. Remus passes Logan the drink menu stored in the seats in front of them, but Logan just politely asks for ginger ale, while Remus orders soda. When given their small snacks, Remus immediately tears his open, while Logan passes his pretzels in Remus's direction.

"Oh, come on," Remus huffs, "you're not going to eat your pretzels?"

"You said first class offers big meals! I'm trying to save space."

Remus's bottom lip juts out. "A small-ass bag of pretzels isn't going to reserve any space." He passes the bag back. "Now eat it! Eating might help ground you, or something. Quell your fear a bit."

Logan represses the urge to counter by saying it could also offer his stomach something to regurgitate if he gets particularly stressed out. But, Remus's adamancy does make Logan flush... especially because he knows how Remus is in regards to feeding him. So, he sighs as he opens the bag, but tells Remus "there's only six pretzels in here. Six pretzels you could have had..."

Remus snorts. "That's six pretzels that'll go straight to that fat butt of yours. And I like to eat cake way more than I like to eat pretzels."

Raising an eyebrow, Logan asks "are they going to serve cake on the flight? Is that why you rejected the second bag?" which has Remus laughing briefly, before shaking his head.

A stewardess comes by to give them their drinks.

Remus immediately downs his soda, before burping loudly and finally responding "no, no. It's an innuendo for… well, you’ll find out tonight.” He winks, licks his lips, and then tilts his cup back to try and suck down any leftover droplets. "But now... I could go for some actual cake. Any good bakeries near your parents' house?"

Still reeling from Remus's quick change of topics, Logan answers "yes, there's a Bundt cake place about a block away. Does that sound appetizing?"

"Very. We can even pick up a few to impress your parents." Remus smooths out his tattered shirt, which has been cut open and safety-pinned on the sides in a manner that's clearly intentional. "I think coming with gifts might help me make a better impression on your parents than I would normally." He runs his fingers through his hair, and takes in a deep breath. "The last thing you want them thinking is that you're befriending hooligans and sluts while you're supposed to be focusing on your studies, right?"

"They're not judgmental like that," Logan immediately argues, frowning slightly. "Even if you told them you were a high school dropout focusing on an art career, they'd commend your independence. They just... don't want that sort of life for me." Logan passes Remus his phone back. "It's an odd double standard, but I sort of get where they're coming from. I'm their kid; they want what's best for me comparatively. A doctor, or an astrophysicist, or a microbiologist would guarantee me a future of financial stability and job security, as those sorts of things are always in demand."

There's silence for a second, before Remus asks "if they... if they weren't influencing your college courses, as I suspect they might be, what would you have chosen to do?"

Logan's cheeks go pink. "I don't... I don't know," he says, but he knows he doesn't sound super convincing. He avoids meeting Remus's eyes, as Remus's gaze pours into him.

Remus - looking a bit more curious than before - turns fully in his seat, so that his legs kick over the armrest, and into Logan's lap. "Well, what are they currently encouraging you to major in?"

"Neuroscience as a major. But I'm getting a minor in astrobiology."

"Are the required classes you have to take interesting?"

"Of course!" Logan responds, sounding almost offended that Remus doubts they would be. "The neuroscience courses themselves are incredibly fascinating, the biology courses have always been fun, and the psychology course is where I met Janus. We’ve been attending those lectures together, and even helped each other study for the final exam." He sighs, and more dreamily adds "and to aid in achieving my astrobiology minor, I take a physics and astronomy course, with a geology course scheduled for next year."

"What exactly does astrobiology do?"

Logan sits up in his seat, and pushes Remus's calves off his thighs. "It studies the science between life's origin and how it survives, evolves, and adapts in different situations, like in space. They also focus on observing other planets in order to discern whether or not those planets might be habitable one day." Smiling softly, Logan adds "I know it's... unlikely, but I've always dreamed about being one of the first people to go to mars. To actually see the dried up rivers, and search for any fossilized bacteria that would prove that life has survived on that planet before... and that there's a chance it could again someday."

"That sounds fire," Remus declares. "Why don't you major in astrobiology, then? If that's something you want to do eventually?"

"Because there's no guarantee I'll actually get to." Logan exhales, deep and deflated. "I probably won't even get to witness something so significant in my lifetime. Besides, my mom's a doctor, and she seems happy that I'm interested in neuroscience because it relates somewhat to her field. Similarly, my dad tried to convince me to try my hand at law school, but I shut that right down."

"Damn. Your mom's a doctor, and your dad's a lawyer... and you live in that shitty ass apartment?"

Logan snorts. "That's exactly what Janus said." Dismissively, Logan quickly explains "they want to encourage independence. I don't want to ask them for money, and I know they dislike sending it. Besides, they have to save up for retirement. And it's my place as their son to take care of them now that I'm an adult; not the other way around."

Looking away from Logan, Remus incredulously mutters "geez, you sound like my mom," before scrolling on his phone through the list of movies until he finds another one. He clicks again, and then sets it back on Logan's tray. "Here," he starts, "this one's about a guy stuck in space. It's right up your alley."

This movie is watched through without any interruptions, though occasionally when Logan goes to comment on a part of the film, he finds Remus looking away from him and towards the closed window. So at some point he stops trying to make conversation, and fidgets with his hands until Remus notices and grabs them, and holds one of Logan's palms gently.

At some point in the middle of their movie, a flight attendant comes by to collect their trash. She takes their pretzel wrappers and Remus's cup, while Logan sips at his ginger ale, working through it slowly in hopes of not upsetting his stomach. The stewardess comes back shortly after to hand them menus for their first-class meals, which has Logan staring at the options in shock. He knew first class residents got special treatment, but the variety of food and the presumed use of fresh ingredients is honestly baffling! So when he and Remus are asked for their orders, he just has Remus order for him.

Pan-seared chicken is what's served, and Logan can't help himself from eating up every bite. Pretzels weren't nearly as appetizing as sizzling meat, served atop fresh veggies.

Remus even scrapes his remaining broccoli, zucchini, and cucumber onto Logan's plate, which Logan doesn't utter a single complaint about.

By the time he's finished eating, he's hardly even focused on his fear anymore. Instead, Remus gets the movie set back up, and Logan's consistently able to keep his brain preoccupied. He hasn't had a plane ride like this ever, and somehow - despite his initial anxiety - he's mostly calmed down. Sure, his stomach still flips whenever the plane shakes, but he doesn't stew on it. Not when Remus provides him things like affection and entertainment he can be focusing on as well.

It's only when the pilot comes over the intercom when Logan realizes the flight is nearing its end.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we kindly ask at this time that you all remain in your seats and fasten your seatbelts, as we begin our descent into Florida."

"Do you think Florida is going to be as breezy as back home is?" Remus asks, as he haphazardly does his seatbelt. He doesn't adjust or tighten it, and just leaves it loose around his waist. He gets a look from the flight attendants who do their final walk through through the cabin, but they don't say a single thing to him, as they instead take Logan's empty ginger ale cup and fold up his tray, before disappearing back into economy to finish their checks there.

Then, right as the plane begins its descent, Remus turns to kiss Logan.

It's so sudden it catches Logan off guard, but kissing Remus feels safe while in a situation that - to Logan - feels incredibly horrifying. So, Logan eagerly kisses him back, staying locked into this breathless act of affection for what feels like minutes upon minutes upon minutes.

The shaking of the plane occasionally pulls their heads apart, but a steady hand on the back of Logan's head always guides them back together.

They kiss so much that it's inevitable when they eventually start making out, with Remus's overeager tongue worming its way past Logan's lips and messily licking into Logan's mouth.

It's only once the plane hits the ground and bounces does Logan pull away, pushing his hand between his mouth and Remus's with the explanation "it's bumpy during landing; I don't want either of us to chip a tooth," which is a worry conveniently supported by the quaking of the plane as it careens down the runway, and slows to an inevitable stop. As soon as it does its last slow pull into a terminal, Logan sighs in relief, and undoes his seatbelt.

"I'm glad it's over," Logan expresses, and stands as soon as they're told he's allowed.

Remus grins at him. "Does that mean I should avoid reminding you that we have to do this again in four weeks?"

Logan snorts. "If you'd be so kind."

He waits for the other first class passengers to slowly file out before finally stepping into the aisle himself, and reaches into Remus's overhead bin to grab his duffel bag for him, which he then hands to Remus before leading him off the aircraft.

Logan sucks in a deep breath of fresh air once they're back into an airport - this one unrecognizable to Remus, but a staple to Logan.

"Come on," Logan says, as he takes Remus's hand in his, "we need to head to baggage to wait for my suitcase. We can order an uber while we're down there, so one will be waiting by the time the luggage is unloaded from the plane."

Remus lets Logan confidently guide him through the building, due to the fact this is his home airport, meaning they reach the baggage claim in a matter of minutes.

Logan's been in this place enough times - whether it be trips to his grandparent's house, out of state family reunions, or heading to college - and so easily navigates the wide halls while sidestepping rushing patrons in order to reach the escalator.

He and Remus descend to the bottom floor, and then Remus is led to a giant baggage carousel. As Remus pulls out his phone to order them an uber, Logan watches out for his suitcase, and grabs it quickly once he spots it. Then, they head outside, where they wait on the curb for their uber to arrive.

He and Remus stand side by side as Logan sends a quick ‘just landed’ text to his mom, before Remus is pulling Logan towards a small car.

They load into the backseat after getting their bags situated in the trunk, and then Logan's sharing his parents address. It's about a half hour drive from the airport, but it's a welcome trip compared to the flight they just took.

"The sun's out," Remus comments, pushing his face up against the window.

"It typically is here," Logan responds, squinting towards the sky. "Unless it's raining, or a hurricane is coming, you can expect to sweat when you step outside."

"I'm already sweating."

Logan turns to look at Remus, who is indeed already glistening. The uber they're in is blasting the air conditioner, but it's hot enough outside for it to be humid in the vehicle. "Did you pack a lot of short, warm clothes?"

Remus snorts. "Do you think I own anything else? Jeans are restrictive; I'm not suffocating my cock for the sake of warmth. A true hoe never gets cold!"

Smiling, Logan says "at least you're comfortable," and then continues to stare out the window.

The drive is uneventful aside from Remus making small talk with the driver, who was clearly hoping neither of them would want to conversate. Remus mostly just talks at the man driving them, who nods and goes "uh-huh" and occasionally glances towards Logan and gives an awkward smile, hoping Logan will intervene. But Logan quite likes the white noise Remus brings by just speaking into the air, and so listens quietly as they get closer and closer to his parent's house.

When they finally pull up to the sidewalk, Logan sees his dad's car in the driveway, and his mom's car absent, though he's not surprised as she did already mention the chance of her being late.

Remus pays the driver with a handful of crumpled up cash that's clearly way more than what was asked of him, which has Logan sighing.

"Do you just keep a handful of bills in your pocket?" he asks, as he drags his suitcase up to the front door.

Remus shrugs. "I keep some larger bills in my wallet. But it's annoying having to constantly unfurl it and pull money out. It's easier to just have some on hand to pay up."

"But you don't even count it out."

"I don't need to." Remus smiles, as Logan knocks on his parents' front door. "My family's crazy rich, Logan. A thousand dollars thrown to the wind here in there means nothing to them, and money in general means nothing to me."

Logan stares at Remus as he hears shuffling on the other side of the door. Remus is grinning proudly, as though he's just been honest and profound, but Logan doesn't commemorate him for being so careless with his money. Instead, a pit of resentment takes hold in his gut, making him frown. "There are so many people who wish to have the wealth your family has," he comments.

Remus, ignorant to Logan's bitterness, smacks Logan's ass quick and playfully. "Why do you think I find hot babes like you to share it with?"

Before Logan can respond, the door is opened, and standing before them is a man. He's Logan's height, with dark brown hair, and the same cheekbones and nose. He smiles at Logan, who musters a small smile in turn.

"Welcome home, L!" Logan's dad greets, as he pulls Logan inside. Remus steps in too, and Logan's dad offers a hand out to him. "Hi; you must be Remus. I'm Anthony. It's a pleasure to meet you; Logan's been telling me about how great of a friend you've been to him. You and that Janus fellow."

Laughing, Remus takes Anthony's hand and shakes it wildly, clearly catching Anthony off guard. But instead of perhaps being annoyed or unnerved by this erratic greeting, Anthony instead chuckles at it and pats Remus on the shoulder as he gives him a gentle push towards the stairs. "Well, you do seem as excitable as Logan mentioned you were! Tell me, what are your thoughts on chicken parmesan?"

"Deee-licious!" Remus draws out.

Logan can't help but smile as Remus and his father have a brief, pleasant conversation about food, before Anthony's sighing.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you from two unpacking," he says, as he turns back to the stove. "Logan, your mother will be home in about an hour. She's been raving about this surgery she's doing... Apparently it's a heart transplant of some kind? But the heart has been kept in a box nearly all day, hooked up to machines to keep it going while they waited for someone who needed it."

"They didn't have someone who needed it at the hospital already?" Logan asks.

Anthony hums. "Not according to Caroline. We only fleetingly talked on the phone, but I think she mentioned something about the recipient being airlifted from another hospital." He looks at Remus, and smiles. "To her, this is exciting stuff. It's not every day she gets to do a transplant."

"It's not every day you get to be around a heart in a box either!" Remus proclaims. "That sounds so cool! She wouldn't happen to have any pictures, would she?"

"Mm. Doubt it." Anthony sets some raw chicken breast on the sizzling pan he's using. "She doesn't typically have her phone anywhere near her while she's at work. She likes to be absorbed into her job; she wants to be completely focused on it, with no outside distractions. That's where Logan gets it from."

Logan begins ascending the stairs, wanting to unpack, but turns to direct Remus to follow him. Remus does so happily.

Up the small set of stairs is a bedroom that's almost pathetically barren.

Remus raises an eyebrow as he looks around. "Did all your decorations explode while you were on your way to college?" he questions, as he sets his duffel on Logan's bed, "because your apartment is empty, too. Where are your posters? Your trinkets?"

"I have a bookshelf," Logan says, waving to the very visible bookshelf positioned against the wall opposite his bed. "That's enough decoration."

Scoffing, Remus replies "hardly. What kind of room is void of anything fun! This is supposed to be your safe space! Your creative sphere! At least your apartment was littered with books and paper to show someone lived there... This is completely desolate!"

"In all fairness, I haven't lived here in months."

"Still. Your childhood bedroom should resemble that of a child. This looks like a guest bedroom at best, and an unused room at worst."

Logan kneels down by his suitcase, and begins pulling out neatly folded clothes, setting them in specific piles before deciding to put them away. There's a few notebooks and binders packed up in his bag as well, but those are also just set aside. No stuffed animals, no toys, nothing. "I don't need anything like toys, especially as an adult," Logan states, as he picks up the pile of shirts and carries them to his dresser, which is void of any trinkets or figurines atop it. "Those things are distracting."

Remus throws himself onto Logan's bed, sitting criss-cross with his boots pressing deep into the comforter. "What about childhood toys? No sentimental stuffed animals made it to adulthood?"

"I didn't have many toys growing up," Logan simply replies. "I think I had a stuffed animal... one of those animal heads attached to a small blanket, fit for an infant. I don't have any memories of it past the age of six though, so I assume I outgrew it."

"Six-year-olds don't outgrow toys." Remus blows a raspberry. "In fact, that's the best age to have toys! You have to exercise your creative thinking! Workout your imagination! Isn't learning to play independently important to a child's development?"

"Probably," Logan answers, "but by that age I already knew how to work independently. I didn't need toys; I had colouring sheets and spelling words to occupy me."

Perking up, Remus inquires "colouring sheets? Like from colouring books?"

"No. Like from kindergarten to teach you the colours, and permit you to identify red, and differentiate blue and green. I never owned any colouring books."

"Jesus," Remus huffs, as he falls back dramatically onto Logan's pillow. "I don't know how you didn't just... shrivel up and die of boredom!"

Logan glances back at him, and then again waves his hand towards his bookshelf. "I read to pass the time. Or I'd talk to my parents. Both of them loved to talk about their work... which if I think about now may have violated some privacy agreements..."

"Yeah but playing is so much better than reading!" Remus insists. "You read one book, and now you've used it all up! It's the same story every time. Even if you think you can squeeze three or four more reads out of it to truly absorb the details, eventually you're going to have to take a break from it because it'll start to grow repetitive. With a doll, you can come up with a new story every time! It's limitless fun!" As he unzips his duffel bag and begins throwing clothes everywhere, he says "growing up, Roman and I had tons of toys. Our dad always came home with an armful, and whenever we wanted to spend time with our mom she'd just send us to the store with one of our maids with handfuls of cash to buy our own stuff! We had a designated playroom and everything, with custom built slides, art supplies, musical instruments..."

Shoulders slumping a little, Logan fidgets with a pair of pants he has in his hands. "Did... did your parents ever play with you?"

Startled, Remus dumbly goes "huh?"

Logan turns to face him, watching the way Remus seems to stare down into his bag, but doesn't continue dumping out its contents. "You know... play with you? You had all these toys; did they ever sit down to create stories with you? Or colour beside you?"

"Did yours?"

"I never had any toys. Mine would help me with homework sometimes."

For a moment, Remus goes silent, before he goes back to pulling clothes out of his duffel. "No, they didn't play with us," he says, as more of his shirts land on Logan's floor. "But Roman and I were twins. We could always just play with each other. And when he didn't want to play with me, I could always just go anywhere I wanted and play by myself. Like out into the backyard, digging up worms, or in the kitchen, pulling food from the fridge. But it was fine. We had everything we needed, and could get anything we wanted to keep us entertained. If we wanted people to play with us, we could always ask a maid."

"Did you ever?"

"Ehh." Once Remus's bag is empty of clothing, he grabs his sketchbook and sets it on Logan's mattress, before leaning back against the pillows. "I know we did once or twice, but I think they started complaining about being forced to play with kids, because our mom bitched for a bit about how we were 'wasting the maids' time,' and 'distracting them from doing their job,' and the maids would look at us all sad and guilty-like."

Nodding, Logan finishes unpacking his clothes into his dresser and then drags his suitcase to sit near his closet. He then joins Remus on his bed.

"This bed might be bigger than the one in your apartment," Remus says, as he pulls Logan close to him. Both of them are easily able to spread out on it, but choose instead to cuddle close to each other.

"It is," Logan responds. "The one in my apartment is a twin. This is a queen."

"It's a comfy queen," Remus groans. He lays flat on his back, and then rolls over atop Logan, who laughs softly and struggles under Remus's weight.

While they're wiggling around and playfully pushing each other, Remus suddenly asks "hey, do you have lube around here?" which catches Logan so off guard that he chokes on his own spit.

He turns away from Remus in order to hide his red face as he hisses "no I don't have lube! Why would I have lube in here? I don't live here!"

"Is there any in your suitcase?"

"It would have been confiscated by the TSA when we went through the airport," Logan explains, before looking over his shoulder back at Remus. "Why? Are you... are you thinking about anything specific?"

Remus grins. "Hell yeah I am. It's a goal of mine to fuck you in as many unique places as possible, and how many opportunities am I going to get to ram your ass in your childhood bed?"

"Probably not many..."

Arms wrapping around Logan's waist, Remus asks "do you still want to get Bundt cakes after dinner?" in a tone that lets Logan know Remus is already formulating an idea. So Logan swallows the spit in his mouth and hums in affirmation, which has Remus saying "perfect. Then we can run by the convenience store and grab some. Sound like a plan?"

"It sounds like you can't keep it in your pants," Logan answers, but rolls back over to let Remus kiss his face, "but... I'm fine with it. I told you on the plane I was fine with it. We'll just have to wait for them to head to bed."

"Or find a way to keep you quiet while they're still awake." Remus presses his nose to Logan's. "It's a shame you didn't bring your collar. It'd do a great job choking you while I hit it from the back. But I guess my hand could always do the job itself..."

To tease Logan, Remus brings his fingers to Logan's throat, and squeezes very lightly. There's no real pressure limiting Logan's blood flow, but Remus's desire is made abundantly clear by the mere action, and the way he searches Logan for any reaction, and seems delighted by how red Logan's face goes. Logan has to pull Remus's wrist away and writhe away from Remus again, though this time he presses his thighs together to hide his growing arousal.

"Remus," Logan scolds, though his voice lacks any sort of conviction, "dinner will be done soon, and it'd be highly inappropriate to head down there with a bulge."

"Then I guess you better take care of that," Remus tauntingly whispers, grazing his lips against Logan's earlobe, before suddenly Anthony is shouting from the bottom of the stairs.

"Logan! Your mom's home!"

Logan's hands immediately press over his face out of humiliation, but Remus just laughs at his plight and aggressively rubs his face against Logan's cheek.

"You can stay here and do whatever you need while I go charm your mom with my excellent people skills," Remus says, as he rolls himself out of Logan's bed. "Though, don't take too long. It's already torturous enough picturing you getting off without my mouth open and ready to catch all your spunk-"

"Remus!" Logan pleads, curling in harder on himself, which has Remus cackling.

As he wipes the tears from his eyes, Remus says "fine, fine, I'm going. But be quick; there's only a certain amount of 'normal' dialogue options I can choose from before my urge to ask your mom if she'd ever put her heart into a box erupts out of me. And I don't know if she'd appreciate that thought-provoking question as much as you would. Speaking of which, would you ever put your heart in a box-?"

"Logan!" Anthony calls again, which has Remus jumping slightly.

He whistles at Anthony's impatience, before chuckling out "my bad! Answer me later!"

Logan turns just soon enough to see Remus spin on his heel and race out of Logan's room, thoughtful enough to close the door and grant him privacy to handle his... problem. He's almost ashamed of himself; he's been here for less than an hour and he already is experiencing horniness... in his parents' house no less! Maybe if he still lived here he wouldn't feel as inappropriate unbuttoning his pants, but it's the fact that this room isn't his anymore that's furthering the flush spreading from his face, down his chest, and all the way down to his hardening cock.

However, that embarrassment doesn't drive away his desire to touch himself.

Remus is just so openly lewd, and Logan's still unused to it! He shouldn't be; he shouldn't be this hot because of some flirty joke on the airplane, some playful rubbing, and a question about lube, but he is. He is, and he needs to quickly get on with it, so he can go see his mom, which was the purpose of this trip back home.

As Logan kicks his jeans off - not wanting to dirty them - and slides his boxers away too, he's faced with the problem of what he's going to come on.

The floor is carpet; any excrement would soak and stain the floor. The same goes for his comforter, blankets, and pillows, which would soak up any mess he's bound to make. Briefly, he considers using a sock like he's heard of juveniles doing (though, when Logan ever decided to get off, he smartly went to the bathroom to shower at the same time, ensuring no mess was left behind), but he doesn't have the impulsivity nor the desire to bust his load in a random sock.

However, while looking around his room for options, he spots Remus's clothes scattered across the floor.

Remus was careless in just tossing shirts and shorts this way and that. His socks weren't even folded together, meaning singular items were multiple feet away from their matching pair! But closest to him is a tee shirt, with some holes near the collar and the bottom. There's a graphic design on the front that Logan doesn't really understand - a green, swirling sword, covered in thorns. Perhaps a band's logo or something? But it's so indistinguishably Remus. The colours, the design, the rips...

Logan grabs it off the floor before he even fully processes the idea in his head, and once he does stop acting on a whim and thinks about what he's about to do, he wants to turn and scream into his pillow.

At the very least, this is defiling Remus's property without his knowledge. At the very worst, Remus is going to be upset with him for ruining one of his shirts until they get around to doing laundry.

But he's already holding Remus's shirt. His lower half is already naked. He might as well commit.

With a shaky hand and a flushed face, Logan puts his hand inside Remus's shirt, and uses that hold to wrap the fabric around his shaft as his fingers curl around his cock, sending immediate pleasure through his body. It's not just the pent-up arousal that's now exciting him, but also the taboo-ness of using Remus's garments without his knowledge to solve this problem. It's Remus's fabric. It's the idea of Remus.

Who goes from cuddling their partner to asking about lube, while on Christmas vacation? Was that normal? Remus inquired about it like it was normal! And now Logan feels somewhat disappointed he didn't have any lube on hand, because what would they be doing right now if he did?

Slowly, Logan begins moving his fabric-covered hand up his length, bringing the shirt up to the tip of his cock, and then all the way back down to the base. Every once in a while, he can hear Remus's particularly shrill laughter carry up the stairs and reach his ears, which just makes him think more about Remus, and how he wishes his mom was a little later, so Remus could have been in the room with him.

Logan's hips jerk slightly as Remus's shirt tickles his slit, making his toes curl and his head fall back.

It's a light, unusual sensation, but that's what he likes about it. The graphic print on the front is a weird texture pressed against his shaft, but that's enjoyable too. It's odd, but it's an experience. And what Logan is experiencing is undoubtedly good.

He spots more of Remus's clothes strewn about, and whines when he sees a pair of Remus's boxers about a pace away. He's regretful of the fact he didn't see them first, as he would have loved to wrap those around his cock instead, and made a mess of Remus's underwear himself. But he's too involved with the shirt to stop now, and so tucks his chin down against his chest as he sucks in a sharp breath and humps up into his fabric fist.

While he's not typically good at imagining things, it's hard not to fantasize about the things Remus has done to him in the past, and apply them to his current situation. Like what if Remus came back and rubbed their cocks together while pinning Logan to his bedroom door? What if Remus fucked him in the bathroom? What if he'd brought his collar? Would Remus have him wear it constantly? Would Remus have brought his leash?

Logan's head swarms with hypotheticals that leave him flushed, and he pushes himself back fully onto his bed in order to rest back against his few pillows. With his head and shoulders supported, Logan feels he can fully relax while his hand slides up and down his shaft, making him shiver and moan as he works his cock with increasing speed.

It doesn't feel as good as when Remus does it, though Logan isn't surprised by that acknowledgement.

The fabric of Remus's shirt, however, at the very least makes this a unique experience, which Logan appreciates. It's something he hasn't felt before - it's not like he frequently got off with other people's clothing - but it feels good. And he feels good.

To stop himself from being too loud, Logan presses the back of his hand to his mouth, and moans against his knuckles. He's sure he could at least groan a bit without anyone hearing, but he'd rather not risk it. The last thing he needs is for dinner to be awkward because his parents were made aware of his perverseness. But he is loud against his own hand, and his noises echoing back into his own ears makes his hips buck into Remus's tee.

Remus's name falls from Logan's lips before he's even registered what he’s saying. And once he does realize, he simply moans it out again.

He wonders if Remus can hear him from downstairs. Unlike his parents, Remus was actively aware of what was going on. Was he listening for Logan to slip up and be just a little too loud? Was he already prepared with an excuse for any strange sounds that may travel down to the kitchen, which was sitting at the foot of the stairs? Would Remus make an excuse for him? Or would he just grin to himself and laugh, and smirk at Logan whenever Logan came back downstairs?

God... Remus's smirk. He somehow looked both more smug and more attractive with the messy stubble Remus was too lazy to shave off.

Logan so badly wants to press his cheek to Remus's own to rub and feel the soft scratching that'd accompany those little, spiky hairs protruding from his jaw. And though Remus looks generally... unique - or disheveled, depending on who you ask - the scraggly facial hair he's started to grow compliments his mustache quite a bit. Logan likes the way it makes his face look.

He wishes Remus were still in the room with him, so he could be kissed, and so he could feel the hairs from Remus's mustache and chin scratch against Logan's upper lip and his face.

His hips jolt again, and Logan quickly rushes to clamp his hand down hard over his mouth as he moans out, while squeezing his fingers tight around his cock. His chest arches upwards as his back momentarily leaves the mattress, and his hand speeds up as a result.

He keeps telling himself he needs to be quick, but despite his general sensitivity he keeps getting lost in his own head and slowing, and speeding up briefly, and then slowing again. So he forces himself to focus on the present; no longer will he be distracted by his mind, no matter how tempting his thoughts seem. He hears a pan clatter downstairs, and bites his bottom lip hard as he fervently works Remus's shirt over his cock. At some point his shaft starts to burn slightly from the friction of the cloth being moved so fast over his length, but he still doesn't stop, and instead has to muffle a cry at how good the pain makes him feel.

With his body feeling hot, Logan can only hope he comes soon, and he tears one of his hands away from his mouth and brings it to his breast to help him get there.

He's inexperienced compared to Remus at playing with his own chest, but pinching his nipple and rolling it between his pointer and his thumb feels incredible. It causes pleasure to surge through him in extreme, intense waves, with his cock throbbing in his hand. He's no doubt drenching Remus's shirt in pre, but he doesn't care about that. He cares about how warm he is - warm enough to start sweating, letting out a small sob into his hand as his toes curl, and as his fingers squeeze his breast. What was previously hardly anything has become a rather graspable amount of flesh. Logan was still thin, but he wasn't as thin, and as he groped himself, he could feel the difference. And that difference felt good.

Remus's name is spoken into his hand a variety of times at a variety of tones, as his breathing quickens and he humps messily into his fabric-clade fist.

He feels his pleasure build and build and build, until it inevitably reaches its peak and comes gushing out of him.

His climax is orgasmic, and his eyes roll back into his head as he presses his hand so hard against his mouth that the pads of his fingers leave red marks in the skin of his cheeks. The sound that escapes him is loud and desperate, and Logan can only squeeze his eyelids shut and pray that no one heard him.

Remus's shirt is guided up and down Logan's cock to both work him through his orgasm and to gather up all Logan's come, which soaks instantly into the fabric and leaves it damp and used when Logan finally drops it to the floor.

As soon as that post-orgasm bliss fizzles out into general awareness, Logan's again haunted by shame, though this time his humiliation amplifies as he stares at Remus's shirt.

With his socked foot, Logan kicks Remus's shirt closer to his duffel as he shuffles off his bed, and shakily gathers up his jeans and boxers while still panting. He slides them on before slipping out of his bedroom door and quickly scuttling to the bathroom.

He washes his hands with a ridiculous amount of soap, before grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water while hurriedly taking his glasses off and setting them to the side. Once his washrag is drenched, he squeezes out the excess and then aggressively scrubs his face, being meticulous in pressing the cool rag to his flushed cheeks, and being relieved when he pulls it away to see that most of the bright red blush that'd covered his face before had now drained from his cheeks and his lips. Then, he a lot more carefully dabs away the sweat glistening at his hairline, and uses his wet hands to comb through his hair and smooth it down. When he's done, he smooths out his clothes, and then finally heads downstairs.

There, he sees his parents have set the table, but food hasn't been served yet.

Logan's mother - Caroline - gives a small smile when she sees him. "Did you finish unpacking?" she asks, as Logan glances towards Remus, who's taken the seat next to her.

"Uh," he breathes, "yeah. I wanted to make sure everything was neatly packed away, so I wouldn't have to worry about anything for the rest of the time I'm here."

"That's a smart way to break things down," Caroline responds. "Though, we've been waiting to eat until you were down here to join us."

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, ma'am."

"It's okay. I'm proud of you for handling things one at a time." Caroline stands, and grabs her plate, and Remus eagerly mimics her, assuming they're about to eat. "Besides, having time to get to know your friend was good for Anthony and I. He asked some rather thought provoking questions about the heart in the OCS I got to spend my day with!"

As Logan grabs his own plate and follows Caroline and Remus to the stove, he asks "did he ask you if you'd ever put your heart into a box?"

Caroline lights up at the question, while Remus glances back at Logan, and then looks on eagerly. "No, he didn't! But the answer is a resounding yes. Both your father and I are registered organ donors, meaning when we die our organs will more than likely be loaded into organ care systems of their own!" As she approaches Anthony, and he serves her a large piece of chicken, dressed with cheese and red sauce, she sighs "if I'm lucky, I'll still be alive when he passes, and I'll get to hold his heart in my hands before passing it on to someone who needs it."

"How romantic," Anthony replies, before having to get up on his tip-toes to kiss her cheek before she heads back to the table. "But that's assuming I don't die of a heart condition, which is likely considering all the palpitations you give me."

"You won't die of a heart condition," Caroline states, matter-of-factly. Remus and Logan both listen intently to her words as Anthony serves them up too, piling their plates with plenty of chicken and a side of green beans, before he makes his own plate and joins them at the table. While Caroline and Remus sit on one side, Anthony and Logan sit on the other, so each couple is facing each other. Caroline brings a bite of food to her mouth, before swallowing and elaborating "you're a lawyer. You're likely going to be murdered, and the average person doesn't aim towards the heart when they fire. They go for the head. So you would lose your brain, which is a pity because it's a marvelously smart brain."

"I'd rather lose my brain than my heart if transplanting my organs would make you happy."

"It'd delight me to no end."

As they give each other goo-goo eyes, Remus leans forward slightly, and whispers "are they always this romantic?" which has Logan sighing.

As he cuts up his chicken into small, bite-sized pieces, he answers "they've been married twenty years, and they show it constantly."

"Better than my parents. They've been married twenty years and you'd think they're strangers if you ever saw them interact." Remus leans back and takes a particularly large bite of his chicken, as Caroline dabs her face with a napkin.

She folds up the towelette in a neat, particular way that hides the smeared sauce, before looking across the table at Logan. "Remus told us you two were going to grab Bundt cakes after dinner," she says, as her polite smile falls back into a neutral expression. "How many do you think you're going to grab? Two? Or four?"

"One for each of us might be pleasant," Anthony insists, as he pats his stomach. "That way we can each get our particular flavors. You know your mother doesn't play about red velvet."

"And your father doesn't tolerate anyone touching his snickerdoodle," Caroline counters. "So four cakes might be the way to go."

"I might have to buy eight cakes if you guys keep naming flavors," Remus jokes. "I originally thought I knew what flavor I was going to get, and now I'm super fucking torn!" He turns to Logan, and leans so far over the table that it looks as though his chest might end up in his chicken parmesan. "What flavor do you get?"

"Lemon blueberry."

Remus noisily falls back into his chair, alerting Logan and his family to the fact he was sitting in a way that lifted the chair's legs off the floor. "Fuck, that also sounds good! I'm going to be stressing over flavors the entire ride there!"

"Well, how about you focus on your supper for now," Caroline suggests, "and having a full stomach might help you eliminate some of the options. For example, a double chocolate chip cake might sound more filling than a light, airy, plain lemon one, so it's easier to decide which one you want based on how much room is left in your stomach."

"That's a smart way to consider it."

Caroline smiles. "Of course it is. They don't call me Dr. Berry just because they feel like it."

The four of them finish their food and set their plates in the sink, with Logan thanking his father for dinner and nudging Remus in the side to encourage him to do the same, before Caroline takes over dishes.

"The keys are hanging by the door like they always are," Anthony states, as he gets himself comfortable on the couch. "You two can take my car to go get snacks. Feel free to grab my card too. Since you're on vacation, if you want to stock up on any junk you probably avoid eating in your day-to-day, then it's all on me."

Logan gives his dad an appreciative nod as he gathers up his father's debit card and car keys. "Thanks," he says, before grabbing Remus's hand, flushing and immediately correcting himself to grab Remus's wrist instead, and pulling him outside.

Remus is guided to Anthony's small, five-seater car, with Logan getting in the driver's seat and Remus in the passenger for once.

"I'm shocked you even have a license," Remus jokes, as Logan buckles up and signals Remus to do the same. "I drive you around so often that I sort of forgot you were able to drive!"

"Just because I can't afford a car doesn't mean I was never taught how to use one," Logan responds, as he backs them out of the driveway. "My parents would take me out driving in both their cars so I could learn how to use either if I ever needed to in an emergency. They'd tell me I could eventually drive myself to school once I was able to trade in my permit for a proper license, but that never happened. They both work odd hours, so there was hardly ever a car in the driveway in the mornings, and if there was then that car would be gone by noon."

"Speaking of your parents, they're fucking awesome!" Remus eagerly leans over the center console, and grins in Logan's face. Logan glances at him briefly, before turning his attention back to the road. "I expected them to be stuck-up and uptight, maybe even a bit entitled, but no! They're cool!"

Logan shifts slightly in his seat, before questioning "you... you think so?"

Immediately, Remus deflates, and his excitement is replaced by genuine caution. "Am I not supposed to?"

That has Logan raising an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't you be able to think that? Everyone's entitled to their own opinions, based on their perception of things. And I'm glad you think they're cool. I'm only asking because... well, when I'd have friends over in my youth, they found my parents odd." Logan shrugs, as he feels the disappointment and insecurity from his youth creep over him. "They love each other quite a bit, and they have no hesitation in flaunting it. And then adore me just as much, hence why they've always pushed me to do my best and be independent. But some of the compliments they exchange or dates they go on aren't... typical."

"They're not boring, is what you mean."

Logan hums. "No, I suppose not. They've never been boring."

"Well, I think that's neat. Way better than my parents, at least." As they pull into the quaint, cutesy Bundt cake shop parking lot, Remus stretches out in the chair, raising his arms as high as they can go and bending them behind the passenger seat. "All they do is smile stupidly and laugh at shitty jokes, and then bitch at each other when they think they're alone. It'd be a lot cooler to have parents who would want to do each other's heart transplants."

Logan chuckles, and shakes his head. "My father would not attempt a heart transplant for my mom. He'd leave her organs to the professionals. He would, however, make sure her will was followed down to the very last letter, and her assets are allocated to the incredibly specific places she dictated."

"I'm pretty sure my mom's threatened my dad into leaving all his assets to her when he dies," Remus claims. "I'm sure Roman and I will get something, but she already doesn't like what we have access to, and is no doubt trying to limit our claim on the family business. I can only pray she dies first... and soon, for my dad's sake!"

Remus laughs like what he's said is funny, but Logan just gives him a sad look. "Is your mom really that bad?" he asks, as the two of them step out of the car.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Remus shrugs and scratches his neck. "I mean... I guess. I'm an adult now, so she doesn't have a huge impact on my life anymore, so maybe she's better? But I doubt it. She's always been a skank."

Remus grabs the door to the shop and pulls it open, stepping in after Logan.

An employee greets them with a tired smile behind the register, though after being asked for a moment to pick out flavors, the worker heads off to the back. It's just them in the store, and both of them stare up at the bright, blinking menu, scanning the flavors. Though Logan quickly looks away from the menu and leans against Remus as he says "you already know what I want, and what my parents want. So you're the only one who really needs to make up his mind."

"Everything you guys were listing just seemed so good," Remus groans, before spotting one of the display cakes. He snickers when he sees it. "Geez... have you ever noticed how the cream on these cakes kind of looks like semen?"

"Not really," Logan answers, "semen wouldn't fall in perfect streams like that."

"Unless it's from hentai."

"If it's from hentai you should have specified hentai." Logan directs Remus back to the menu. "I hardly know what hentai is outside of its name, though, so I can't affirm nor contest your claim."

Remus grins. "Well, hentai is like... It's Japanese porn, basically, in the form of manga, comics, and drawings. So in art, spunk can be represented in clean streaks like this, unlike in real life where it’s a lot messier and unpredictable." Tapping his chin, Remus thoughtfully adds "now that I'm thinking about it, though, I think I like real life portrayals more. Porn art is hot and all, and sometimes the unrealistic elements make shit hotter, but if I had to choose between you squirting and some random anime girl, I'd choose you every time."

Logan can't help but smile. "Good to know. But what you need to be choosing is a Bundt cake flavor, so we can..." he trails off, before clearing his throat and quietly continuing "so we can hurry and run by the gas station, and grab... things we need."

Eagerly, Remus proclaims "like lube!" right as the employee comes back out to take their order.

While Logan quickly swallows down his embarrassment in an effort to look as though he was not just discussing purchasing lube with his sugar daddy, Remus excitedly begins ordering Logan and his family's Bundt cake requests. After he gets all three miniature cakes down, he ponders over a flavor for himself, before just shrugging and saying "honestly, that'll be all! I have my own cake waiting to be eaten back at his place." He jabs his thumb in Logan's direction, which has Logan giving him a weird look as the employee just nods and tells Remus the total.

Remus quickly swipes his card before Logan even has the chance to grab his father's from his pocket, and then watches the worker head to the back to fetch everyone's cakes. While they're waiting for their order, Logan asks "what do you mean by 'cake' back at my place? My parents don't really keep sweets on hand, so they absolutely do not have cake back at the house."

But Remus just slaps Logan's ass. "Another innuendo," he vaguely explains, "you'll see when we get back."

Three small boxes are handed to the duo, and Remus piles them all high as he and Logan head back to the car.

"To the gas station we go!" Remus cheers, as he carefully places the boxes on top of the dashboard, and squishes them close enough to the windshield that they're being pinched properly in place. "Is there one close by?"

"There are gas stations everywhere," Logan replies, voice quieter than he intends it to be. The sweet smell from the cakes mixes harshly with the remnants of Logan's sweat that he was unable to wipe away - like from his thighs or his pits, which became slick with perspiration during his masturbating. It has Logan cringing when he realizes how he smells, but if Remus can smell it he doesn't comment on it. For now, at least.

Logan pulls them into the gas station, parking at a pump so they can run inside, but before he can unbuckle himself Remus is hopping out of the car with a brief "I'll be quick!" followed by him slamming the door and basically sprinting inside.

Logan watches him from his seat as his head bobs above the printed labels surrounding the lower half of the ceiling-to-floor glass front as he scrambles around the store. Logan can tell by his movements that he's grabbing way more than just the thing they were stopping by for, but he finds it's a lot less suspicious to come in carrying multiple grocery bags than just one with a tiny bottle in it.

A few minutes pass before Remus comes running out of the gas station with a few bags, and stuffs them all into the floorboards.

"Got the lube!" Remus proudly declares, "as well as some general snacks. It'll be good for you to keep stuffing your face while you're here so we don't lose all that progress." He pokes Logan in the side, which tickles Logan a bit and makes him squirm away.

"My dad gave us his card specifically for food," Logan then says, but he's cut off by Remus.

"Yeah, but you're my sugar baby," Remus argues. "And it's my job to keep you looking hot and sexy enough for me to eat whenever I please. And whenever you allow it. I'm considerate like that." He leans over to kiss the corner of Logan's lips, and then Logan's shifting fully so they can kiss properly, with Remus grabbing Logan's thighs and waist best he can while Logan stays buckled, until finally Logan pulls away panting.

As he shifts the car into drive, he mumbles "we have to get home," which has Remus patting Logan's thigh.

"Eager to eat up your Bundt cake?" Remus teasingly asks, even though they both know what Logan's really excited for. "I'm sure it's going to taste so good on your tongue, with all that deliciously sour-sweet lemon, and those tangy wild blueberries... I might have to snag a bite or two!"

"You might have to wait a bit for that," Logan replies, gaze fixed intensely on the road. "I don't feel super hungry right now."

"Really? Because I'm starved."

Logan feels Remus stare at him the entire drive, and all of his rubbing against Logan's sensitive body is making it hard for him to repress his growing arousal, though he does desperately try in order to not walk into his house with an obvious hard on.

He swats Remus's hand away just long enough for him to pull into the driveway without crashing into his mom's car, before he grabs some of the bags by Remus's feet before Remus can gather them all, and carries them in such a way it hides the growing tent in his pants. Remus snickers at his predicament as he gathers the remaining snacks, and the three Bundt cakes.

When they walk in, Logan finds the kitchen has been straightened out and both of his parents are sitting in the living room, side-by-side on the couch watching TV.

"Back with the snacks already?" Anthony calls, as he turns to lean over the arm of the couch.

Remus holds up their contained cakes like trophies. "Hell yeah we are!"

"Sweet! Can't wait to dig in."

Remus goes ahead to distribute the cakes to Caroline and Anthony respectively, before bringing the rest of the stuff upstairs to Logan's room, where Logan's already dropped the bags of snacks to the side and seems to be peering into them. When Remus laughs at him however, he quickly pulls away, and hops onto his bed instead.

"Looking for something specific?" Remus taunts him, as Logan rapidly undoes the buttons on his jeans.

"Of course I am," Logan answers, "you've been touchy and sensual since the plane. Am I not supposed to be expecting sex right now? Were all your sensual slights just red herrings to make fun of me?"

"You know they weren't."

Logan presses into the pillows behind him, already tugging his jeans halfway down his thighs. Remus sets his own bags down on the floor, and then reaches into his pocket to pull out a rather large bottle of lube, that he shows cheerily to Logan, who flushes dark when he sees it.

"Did you really have to buy so big of a bottle?" Logan asks, as Remus tears his clothes off with little hesitation.

"Obviously."

Swallowing a mouthful of spit, Logan mumbles "if you try to take that through TSA they're just going to confiscate and toss it..."

But Remus just laughs. "You think there'll be anything left for me to take home?" he inquires, though his question is clearly rhetorical as he tosses the lube up by Logan's head and shuffles his naked body between Logan's legs, which he fully exposes by pulling the pants and underwear away from Logan's body.

As he presses his cheek to Logan's inner thigh, he sighs out "you know, it was torture having to keep myself downstairs knowing you were up here getting off. I wanted to just run up here and finish the job for you. You took forever."

"I tried to be quick," Logan insists, "it's just... not as good when you're not the one doing it."

"Damn right it isn't." Remus's teeth trail along Logan's thighs, and right up to Logan's hard cock, which Remus's tongue flicks across, making Logan shiver. "Don't ever forget that I'm the best at making you feel so, so good."

Logan slings his forearm over his eyes, pressing his glasses hard to his face. "I don't think I could ever even try with you constantly doing stuff like this," Logan pants, before suddenly squealing when he feels his thighs get lifted. His hips are pulled off the bed with it, as Remus slings Logan's legs over his shoulders. To Logan, it's a weird position, that causes a bit of strain in his neck, but Remus is grinning excitedly down at him.

"Do you want me to explain those innuendos now?" he asks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Nervous, yet excited, Logan nods. "Please."

"'Cake' is a slang term for ass. You have a nice, fat ass. I've loved squeezing it, smacking it, pinching it... but I haven't gotten to eat you out yet."

"I thought being eaten out was a vaginal term," Logan stammers, "reserved for the action of cunnilingus."

"Nah, it's more of a broad term," Remus says with a shrug. "And it applies to this situation, right now."

Logan whimpers. "What's the lube for, then? I thought we were going to..."

"Bang? Well duh." Remus uses his positioning to squeeze Logan's thighs hard with his sharp, painted nails. "I'll fuck you after I get a nice, long taste of you. Besides, this way I won't have to use my fingers for prep work! I'm sure that's getting rather repetitive, huh?"

Stuttering, Logan replies "I like everything you do," which just has Remus laughing at him again, though this time Logan nearly feels his soul leave his body when he feels Remus's tongue lick over his balls.

Without a care in the world, Remus's lips press and drag along Logan's sack, licking and sucking on it the way he would Logan's cock, before he finally brings his head lower and he basically disappears behind Logan's body aside from his messy hair that sticks in every conceivable direction.

Logan doesn't know what he's expecting, but whatever he mentally braces himself for is completely disregarded the second he feels Remus's tongue slide against his hole. It's wet, writhing, and completely foreign to him, and it has Logan shivering.

"Oh- oh my god," Logan gasps, as he feels the tip of Remus's tongue begin to prod into him. However, shortly thereafter Logan feels the tongue slip away, and Logan himself is dropped back onto his bed. Before he can ask Remus what he's doing, Remus is flipping Logan onto his hands and knees, and pushing Logan's face hard into his pillows by the back of his head. Logan lets out a muffled moan at his roughness, before he feels Remus's hands grip and spread his thighs once more, and then his face slides back between his cheeks.

It's incredibly odd, and yet not unwelcome, and Logan tries to just relax and focus on this new experience as best as he's able.

Once more, Remus's tongue slides over his hole, running over it repeatedly to tease him, before slowly beginning to push the moist muscle inside of Logan. Logan's fingers grip the sheets beneath him as he feels the intrusion, and can't help moaning as Remus's tongue wiggles deeper inside of him.

"This is... so weird..." Logan pants, raising his head from his bed as he turns to look over his shoulder at Remus, though he finds himself moaning and pressing his chest harder into the mattress when he again sees that most of Remus's face is blocked from view.

Remus doesn't respond - it's hard to talk when your mouth is already occupied - but he does moan against Logan's hole, which is another new experience that has Logan moaning.

It gets even lewder from there, as Remus starts making disgustingly sloppy sounds with his mouth, smearing his spit anywhere he can, and thrusting his tongue in and out of Logan the same way he would his fingers or his cock. Except his tongue is both wet and malleable, and with every clench of Logan's ass, it squishes and twists in ways Remus's fingers or cock can't.

Logan's unsure of whether or not Remus's tongue is long enough to reach his prostate, and frankly he doesn't care. This feels so odd yet so good, and Logan's cock is already leaking pre.

Remus continues wiggling, thrusting, and moving his tongue both in and around Logan's hole, before he finally pulls it out and presses his face up against the base of Logan's cock and his balls instead. Breathing hard, Remus groans out "you smell fucking sweaty... must be from when you got off earlier. Were you that worked up? To have been literally sweating your balls off?"

Logan whines.

"What'd you get off into, anyway?" Remus continues. "A cumrag? A cumsock?"

That has Logan going silent, and Remus immediately notices this silence, as he goes from licking at Logan's shaft to pulling away suddenly. He grabs Logan by the back of his hair, and yanks his face back so that Logan's forced to meet his eyes. "What was it?" Remus repeats, sterner this time. He's plagued with curiosity, and Logan knows that Remus knows Logan's embarrassed by whatever it is. "What has humiliated you to the point of silence?"

Still, Logan doesn't answer, and it isn't until he's pushed back so Remus can peer over the edge of the bed that Logan desperately tries to come up with an excuse. "I didn't have anything good to use so I had to improvise," Logan rushes to say, as he sits on his knees at Remus's side. He doesn't even realize he's cuddled up to Remus's side until Remus slings an arm around him and points to a crumpled up shirt on the floor. Remus's crumpled up shirt. The one Logan used without asking.

"That it?"

Logan doesn't even have to answer; the way his face goes dark red is answer enough.

"It is, isn't it?" Remus's head falls back as he cackles, before he stretches his leg out in order to pinch the fabric of the shirt between his toes. With this grip, he drags it onto the bed, and then unfurls his shirt for Logan to see.

Most of his mess had been absorbed into the black fabric, but that means there's noticeably dried streaks all over it, specifically around the shirt's graphic design and the entire front side, though a lot of the back had fallen victim to Logan's climax too, thanks to the way he'd wrapped the shirt around his hand. As Remus shows it off, looking over it almost... proud, before he shoves it into Logan's face.

"Looks like you really enjoyed yourself, huh?" Remus mocks him, as he uses the shirt pressed against Logan's face to push Logan onto his back.

Logan gasps as he's forced down against the mattress, causing him to take in a deep breath tainted by the smell of his own sweat and old semen. He can hear Remus's teasing in his tone, but the fact he's so casual about Logan defiling his property only furthers Logan's embarrassment.

As Remus clamps the shirt over Logan's mouth, he muses "you really wanted me to be here, huh? But I couldn't be, so you just used the next best thing."

Whining, Logan struggles beneath the shirt, and finally Remus pulls it away from his face, granting him a breath of fresh air. As he pants, Logan meekly admits "yeah... it... it was both yours and a convenient way to... to avoid making a mess."

"It'll be a convenient way to help us avoid getting caught, too," Remus proclaims, and before Logan can ask what he means, the shirt is being balled up around Remus's fingers and crammed into Logan's mouth.

Logan gags instinctively - as one would when a rather thick, foreign object is shoved into their throat - but his eyes roll back into his bed as he opens his mouth as far as it can go to allow Remus to shove the shirt further and further into his mouth. Logan can taste his own sweat on his tongue, and is forced to suck his salty orgasm out of the fabric if he wants to even try and breathe.

"We can use this as a makeshift gag since I didn't think to bring an actual one," Remus explains, before dragging Logan's shirt upward and off his body. He takes the opportunity to immediately grab and grope Logan's tits, pinching at his nipples like they're mere toys for him to fidget with. Logan moans loudly at the pain that surges through his chest, but his sounds are quite muffled by the fabric wrapped around his tongue, which has Remus smiling wide. "Don't get me wrong; I love when you're a noisy little slut. But you want to keep up appearances... You want to pretend you're an independent, self-sufficient adult, when in reality you're a pathetic, obsessed whore who couldn't even go a week without my cock."

Remus leans over Logan, grinning wildly. His eyes are more intense than Logan's ever seen them before. He doesn't even look particularly sadistic. He looks... desperate.

"You need me," Remus spits, "admit it. You need me."

Logan tries to repeat him, but the words don't come through thanks to Remus's shirt. Remus seems frustrated by this, as his eyes narrow, but his smile only stretches wider as he lets out a sardonic laugh, before leaning back on his calves.

Remus turns away from him and wipes his face in a manner that doesn't necessarily look like he's swiping away sweat, but he's looming back over Logan before Logan can really process it.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard into the mattress that you're not going to be able to walk tomorrow," Remus sensually threatens. "I might even keep you bedridden during this entire trip. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Getting ruined every night? Fucked full right before bed?"

Logan reaches for Remus, and grabs his shoulders tight. Remus's lips come near Logan's forehead, but never actually press down, just hovering there.

Then, Logan sees Remus grab the lube in his peripheral, and shivers when he hears it open and squirt onto Remus's cock. His thighs are being grabbed shortly thereafter, and guided to wrap around Remus's waist. It feels somewhat reminiscent of the first time he and Remus had sex, though this time Logan knows a lot more about what they're doing, and has cloth stuffed down his throat. He feels Remus's cock press between his cheeks, and slide against Logan's hole, which clenches around nothing in anticipation.

Logan moans softly at Remus's humping, before Remus presses his body flat against Logan's, pushing them chest to chest at the same time he finally presses the tip of his cock inside of Logan.

As a loud groan escapes his throat, Logan's head falls back against the pillows, and his hips jerk forward in an involuntary act of impatience, trying to get more of Remus inside of him much, much quicker, as Remus instead chooses to take his time. Logan can't tell if Remus is doing it on purpose to be a tease, or if he's actually just going slow to savor the moment, but either way its torturous considering Logan's high sensitivity - which has only been heightened by the fact he had an orgasm just a few hours ago!

He tries to squeeze Remus's shoulders and beg him to speed up wordlessly through soft cries and whines, but Remus ignores him in favor of pushing his hand over the shirt in Logan's mouth, pressing it harder against Logan's tongue.

"So noisy," Remus teases him, "I'm not sure if this shirt is doing a good enough job. If you keep this up, I might have to do this instead..."

Remus's hand creeps up Logan's chest, and makes its way to Logan's neck, which he grasps firmly. Unlike earlier, where he was doing it just to rile Logan up, now he actually presses down his thumb and fingers on the sides of Logan's neck, immediately making Logan's head feel pleasantly fuzzy, and Logan's body feel insatiably hot.

His hips jerk with excitement, but Remus's free hand just grabs Logan's waist to pin him firmly down.

"Do you like that?" Remus asks, voice low and tantalizing. "Your sounds, your voice, your breathing being completely in my hands... Do you trust me enough with that amount of control? Are you confident enough that I won't get a bit too carried away and crush your windpipe? I mean, you are quite the temptress; I always find myself lost in pleasure when I play with you. Who says I won't take things way too far?"

A shiver travels down Logan's spine at Remus's words, but despite what he's saying, it's not all dirty talk. To some extent, Remus sounds too serious for it to all be just pointless words, said solely to arouse or spike fear in Logan. And it's not like Logan does feel afraid; he knows Remus no doubt thinks about doing those things. About hurting Logan. About doing irreversible damage. But he hasn't, and Logan has faith that he won't. But the way Remus is speaking makes it seem like Remus himself doesn't.

Logan's hands travel across Remus's shoulders, and then up to Remus's face, which is grabbed and pulled closer. He can smell Remus's breath as he pants over Logan's face, and gives him a needy look as Remus's eyes needily flicker over Logan's face, taking in every niche crevice and quirk in his expression.

And then, Remus slides most of his cock out of Logan.

Anything that'd been slowly pushed in is pulled out, leaving just the tip pushed into Logan's hole, making Logan whine. But he knows what's coming next. They both do.

Before Logan can even grip Remus hard enough to keep himself grounded, Remus is roughly shoving into Logan with animalistic desperation. He sets a pace of quick, hard thrusts instantaneously, finally answering Logan's unspoken prayers for him to speed up, but perhaps going too fast, as Logan's left reeling where he lays.

He cries around the shirt he's biting down hard on, his eyes welling with immediate tears at just how quickly overwhelmed he's becoming. And just how little he can think with his brain slowly becoming clouded with static.

He watches Remus squeeze his eyes shut and bite his bottom lip hard enough to bleed while pounding Logan hard enough to shake the mattress. Even if his parents won't hear him, they're bound to hear the bed creaking as it rocks back and forth. And to Logan, the sounds of Remus's bare hips slapping against his (supposedly) fat ass is even louder, filling his ears with the sound of sweaty skin rubbing and smacking together.

And Remus hardly even tries to muffle his pleasure!

He moans outright, often right into Logan's face, as if he's teasing him by showing him what he can't have. And when Logan manages to get out a weak whine, Remus squeezes harder around his throat cutting off his noises completely.

And at the same time, Remus's cock slams right into his prostate.

The dual feelings of light-headedness and ecstasy are a wild mix, that has Logan feeling instantly orgasmic and hot. With his brain so fuzzy, he feels like he might both pass out and come at the same time! But neither happens, as Remus eases up the pressure on his neck just long enough for Logan to take in some large, tainted breaths of air in, of course filtered by the semen-soaked shirt, before it's cut off yet again.

Remus constantly flips between letting his blood flow to his brain, and limiting that flow in an unpredictable pattern, constantly keeping Logan on his toes. At the same time, he keeps an unrelenting pace between Logan's thighs, as he thrusts fast and hard against Logan's prostate, ramming that bundle of nerves over and over, causing Logan to constantly writhe beneath him.

He'd be crying out if he could, but he can't, and so he just grabs and squeezes Remus as tight as he can. He tries to arch up into Remus's touch, but he can't thanks to the hand still pressing down on his waist, though luckily that grip slides away shortly after and Logan's finally able to wiggle and roll his hips as much as he desires. And he does; he's nearly incapable of lying still with just how overwhelmingly good he feels. And when Remus decides to grab his neglected cock, and give it a few firm strokes? Logan basically comes on the spot. The only thing that stops him is the fact Remus is flushed from the face down, with a splotchy red blush covering Remus's cheeks, all the way down his chest.

He moans quietly, and then Logan watches as Remus's own head falls back, with drool spilling from his lips and his eyes lightly pressed shut. He looks like he's having the time of his life, and that amplifies Logan's pleasure tenfold.

Logan tries to groan Remus's name around the fabric, but he can't enunciate any syllables. He tries to reach for Remus, but with Remus having pulled himself partially back, the only thing Logan can grasp is the hand around his throat.

Holding tight to it, Logan squeezes Remus's fingers, which has Remus once again permitting him to breathe, but not slowing his pace despite this.

"Keep clenching around my cock like that and I just might treat you the same way you treated my shirt," Remus moans, before laughing. "But you'd like that, wouldn't you? My come soaking into you from the inside out?" Remus plants a dramatic kiss to the shirt in Logan's mouth as he presses his fingers tight into Logan's neck, catching him off guard with his firm grip.

Logan nods best he can while his head is being held back against the mattress. He'd say yes if he could.

As if triggered by Remus's noises of pleasure, Logan's hole clenches around Remus's cock, making them both moan as Remus's shaft stretches him out and abuses his prostate. It's constant, unyielding pleasure, that causes both of their orgasms to build, and build, and build, until Remus himself is biting down on his own shirt, moaning into it as he comes right at the same time Logan's back arches off the bed and he comes too.

With their climax's synced, the mess that's made against both of their bare skin is a mix of both of their enjoyment.

And though Logan's trembling at his second orgasm of the night, Remus continues to thrust into him as he rides out his ecstasy until he's completely satiated, which is when he finally pulls out of Logan, and yanks his shirt out of Logan's mouth.

Logan's finally able to breathe properly once Remus's hand falls away from his throat and his mouth is cleared of fabric, and he watches as Remus uses it to lazily wipe up the semen and then carelessly toss it onto the floor. Then, Remus just sits there, sitting back on his calves as he stares over the edge of the bed at the floor below and attempts to catch his breath.

But that has Logan finally pushing himself up. Though he breathes hard, he leans against Remus's side as he murmurs "we should toss that in my hamper, so nothing soaks into the carpet."

Remus blinks, and then nods. He slides off the bed and grabs the shirt, which reveals Remus's sketchbook, which had fallen out of his duffel at some point. As Remus stands and walks his dirty shirt over to Logan's empty hamper, Logan points down at the object.

"I assume that's your sketchbook," he says, as Remus comes back over to stare down at his sketchpad. "Can I look through it?"

Remus considers his request, before grinning wildly and grabbing the book off the floor. He tosses it to Logan, and then climbs into the bed. He situates himself behind Logan, holding Logan in his lap from behind as Logan holds Remus's drawing pad. Though they're both naked, neither of them seem to care as Remus rests his head on Logan's shoulder.

"Start from the beginning," Remus urges him.

"I planned on it."

As Remus rubs his itchy facial hair against Logan's throat, he responds "I figured you would, but some people open them to the middle and just flip to random pages. That always bothered me. Each page is something interesting, and if you just skip around you're bound to miss something."

"Well, I'll look through everything," Logan assures him. And then he opens to the first page.

He doesn't know what he expects, but what he sees blows him away.

He's seen Remus's drawings before - little doodles, rushed scribbling, but doodles nonetheless - but these are fully coloured. Logan can see that the drawings on the first two pages are done with a mixture of coloured pencils and markers, with the markers being swiped and layered over each other to create the initial colours and textures desired, and the coloured pencil having been brought in after to add finer detail with thinner tips and differing intensities. The drawings themselves are detailed rats of varying colours, sizes, and breeds. Some of the rats are angled in odd ways too, as if they're being looked at from underneath, from the back, from a variety of directions, and each of them look incredibly realistic.

"I always imagined you'd draw more abstract," Logan comments, as his fingers lightly caress a grey rat on the far right paper. "Don't get me wrong; these are incredibly impressive. I adore how different each drawing is from the rest. They each feel like their own characterized animal, with differing personalities."

Remus smiles, big and genuine. "I enjoy characterizing things," he declares, "and rats do have differing personalities. Some of them have giant balls, too. My grandpa breeds rats, and he has to make sure they're incredibly fertile, meaning some of them have disgustingly huge nuts. It's awesome."

"Fascinating. And gross." Logan glances at Remus over his shoulder. "Imagine if human fertility was dependent on the size of your testicles."

"If that was the case, you'd be pregnant by now." Remus's hands drum against Logan's bare stomach as he snickers, before flipping Logan to the next page. Logan turns his attention back to the sketchbook as he does so.

The next two pages are more animals.

There's a drawing of a horse, cut in half in a manner that looks morbidly realistic. The bones and organs visible are anatomically accurate, and again Logan finds himself dazzled by the art. There's some ugly, crusty dogs, drawn in manners that make them look uglier and crustier than usual, and then there's some hairless cats. A lot of them have injuries, which has Remus rushing to explain "they're modeled after a pair of cats that roam our neighborhood. I don't just fantasize about hurting pets."

"I didn't think you did."

Remus snorts. "But some people do. I... I think about it, sometimes. But I wouldn't do it." Remus taps the page, and specifically scratches his nail over the neck of one of the cats, where Logan notices a collar. "There's this couple that just lets their cats just travel outside. They've both been hit by at least one car, but are still kicking. Roman and I have considered just stealing them, but we're pretty sure they're chipped." Remus looks peeved as he speaks. "Those owners are idiots. Their cats are going to die one day, and it's going to be their fault. And we're going to have to listen to them sob dramatically over deaths that could be easily prevented."

As Logan squints at the collar, he notices the name "wafer" neatly written on the tag.

"Wafer?" he reads, which has Remus nodding.

"The other one is named Biscuit."

"That's cute... though I never understood naming animals after food. Why not give them actual names?"

Remus chuckles. "Because naming them things like 'Adam' or 'Tyler' would be silly. Imagine calling that wrinkly kitten over to you like 'Tyler! Come here, Tyler!'" Remus makes himself laugh, before nipping at Logan's neck. "I feel like that's a lot sillier than naming them after food. Or objects! If I was in charge of naming those cats, I'd name them Wrinkle and Dustfart." Remus taps the page, where he's written the two names off to the side, next to two tiny, cartoonish drawings of the cats.

"Those are awful names."

"I know, right?" Remus kisses Logan's cheek. "That's what's fun about it."

As Logan traces his fingers in a circle over the doodle, he asks "did you write them down so you wouldn't forget?" which has Remus making a noise of ambivalence.

"Kind of. I have a lot of important thoughts while doodling, and since I'm already touching pen to paper, I figure it's best to just write stuff down while they're on my mind." Remus presses his lips to Logan's shoulder in an uncharacteristically soft manner. "Sometimes it's a good method for confronting my thoughts. Because I can write them out while doing something I already enjoy... and since I'm already having fun, it's easier to look at these problematic ideas I have in a less stressful light. It doesn't always work though, and sometimes I have to blot out the stuff I write down for my own peace of mind. Some things are better left repressed.”

"I don't think anything should be repressed," Logan counters.

Remus just shakes his head. "You wouldn't believe that if you knew half the shit that plagues my brain."

Logan flips to the next page, and goes red in the face. These drawings are just as realistic as the first two pages, but they're not of animals. They're of him. Fully rendered, colourful, life-like renditions of him.

"Oh..." Remus breathes, before nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "Did I forget to mention I started this sketchbook just a couple months ago? It's... it's recent."

Logan can tell it's recent, as though there are two sketches of him in normal clothes - with his tucked-in polos and his bright blue ties - the rest of the page is filled with drawings of Logan in the suit Remus gave him. And some of him partially nude, with the pants of the suit pulled down and Logan touching himself.

It's odd to see what's essentially porn of himself, drawn by the man he's been sleeping with. He hasn't even taken naked pictures of himself and looked back on them, so now to see fully rendered art of him touching himself, rubbing his cock, and even little speech bubbles drawn to the side that just shows him moaning, Logan doesn't know how to respond.

He just stares for a second, before flipping to the next page. There are more drawings of him. More in the suit, most with normal clothes, one every now and there that's him naked. Remus has drawn himself with Logan in one of them. Their lower halves aren't even sketched, but their upper bodies are pressed together, and their lips are hovering over each other. There's a scribbled out section of words between them, as though they were drawn speaking to each other. Curious to know what they're saying, Logan lifts the book and begins to angle it in a way that'll allow the light to shine over the indents left behind by Remus's original pen marks.

"What are you doing?" Remus asks, his voice no longer playful.

"Trying to read what you blacked out," Logan answers, before he suddenly lights up.

He turns to speak to Remus, but is caught off guard by Remus grabbing the sketchbook from Logan's hands and shutting it roughly, before tossing it back to the ground.

"Is everything okay?" Logan asks, shrinking where he sits. Something about Remus's actions makes him feel... bad, as though he's done something wrong.

"Everything's fine," Remus answers, though the heavy sigh he lets out after speaks the exact opposite. "I just have a sweet piece of ass in my lap, and we're focused on artistic bullshit when we could instead be focused on some fine shit." When Logan raises an eyebrow, Remus goes "you. You're fine shit."

"Okay," Logan merely responds, as he turns in Remus's lap. "You could have just said that without risking damage to your sketchbook."

Remus shrugs, and lets Logan's words roll over him as his hands slide down to grab Logan's ass. Logan quickly grabs his wrists to stop him.

When Remus looks at him - an unreadable expression on his face - Logan gently says "before you get too carried away, though. I have a question."

Though briefly annoyed and worried, Remus masks any undesirable thoughts behind a quick facade of openness. "Ask away, slut," Remus encourages, "I'm an open book. A gaping book, even." He winks. Logan smiles for a few seconds, before he points down at Remus's sketchbook.

"The scribbled-out words reminded me of when you handed me that recipe, when we were..." he clears his throat, "when we indulged in that housewife scene. The packet had doodles in it - cute ones, might I add - but had some writing in it, too. There was one where you called the housewife dress pretty, and another where you mentioned lobsters and humans being boiled." Logan notes that Remus is starting to look pale, and almost stops talking entirely, but his curiosity is eating at him. "But, there was another one, too. It was crossed out repeatedly with a pen, but when held up to the light and angled right, I could make out some of the words. Not all of them, mind you, but most."

Remus's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows a mouthful of spit.

Logan continues "it said you needed to tell someone something, but what exactly you needed to say couldn't be made out. And that this person couldn't be 'more.'" Logan feels that same bout of dread begin to wash over him as he did when he first discovered the notes. Though he also feels a brief flash of embarrassment for his insecurity, he can't stop himself from asking "were those written about me?"

Remus doesn't answer immediately, and Logan's question hangs heavy in the air.

After minutes upon minutes of silence, Remus finally says "yes."

He doesn't elaborate, nor does he clarify what those messages were actually detailing, and so Logan pushes "what do you need to tell me?"

Remus, again, goes mute, and his grip on Logan loosens significantly. When Logan tries to set his hands on Remus's shoulders, Remus just shoves Logan away, and fully manhandles Logan off his lap and onto the bed, where Logan finds himself tangled in the sheets.

Logan feels a weird sense of nausea wash over him as Remus gets off the bed and kicks his sketchbook so that it slides beneath his duffel, where it hides from view. While he continues to avoid responding to Logan, he gets dressed in baggy, ill-fitting shorts, and a long tee that seems to swallow him whole.

"Remus," Logan starts, but Remus just waves his hand dismissively.

"Do you want me to grab you some clothes?" he asks, his fingers lingering over Logan's dresser drawers.

Logan frowns. "Remus, please, I'm genuinely curious. Not everything has to stay inside; you're allowed to talk to me. You're the least judgemental person I know; let me be the least judgemental person you know."

"I'd love to, but I don't believe you could be." Remus looks away from him. "Do you want a change of clothes or not?"

"I want to have a conversation with you."

Remus grabs Logan's drawer without receiving a solid answer, and Logan ends up practically pelted with his own clothes. A pair of boxers, some sweatpants, a long-sleeve sleep shirt. Logan shoves all these articles to the side, and pushes himself to stand instead, ignoring the fact he's still naked to try and cautiously approach Remus.

Remus perceives his carefulness negatively, and Logan frowns further when Remus shakes his head, mumbles under his breath, and goes to reach for Logan's door.

"Do you have a guest room?" he asks, knuckles white with how hard he grips Logan's doorknob.

Though he doesn't want Remus to leave, Logan still nods. "We do. It's right down the hall. But I assumed you'd sleep in my room. With me."

"I don't think I should."

"I would appreciate it if you did."

Remus's forehead slams against Logan's door hard enough to startle Logan, who takes a step back to give Remus space. "I told you, some things are just better left... unacknowledged," Remus states, with a sharp edge to his voice.

Though Logan doesn't move any closer, he does reply "and I told you that you can tell me anything."

"Yeah, well..." Remus throws his hands up into the air, before they rub over his face. His body is nearly doubled over as he massages the tension from his brows, while continuing to keep his countenance obscured from Logan's view. With a groan of near- anguish, Remus hisses "if only I didn't have so much to lose, maybe I would," before finally storming out of Logan's room.

Logan scrambles to his bed to get dressed so he can follow Remus without risking his parents seeing him nude, but by the time he's able to throw on his clothes and get to the guest room, Remus already has the door locked.

"Remus," Logan pleads, standing with his toes pressed against the door, "we can be mature about this. We're both adults."

There comes no reply.

Sighing, Logan's own forehead thuds against the door, as he implores "Remus, come on. I didn't mean to cause you any stress. I just... I would like to be a part of whatever goes on in your head. I want to know what you think. I want to mix my own thoughts in with yours. And I can't do that if you won't let me."

He waits for a few moments to make sure Remus really hears his words, before stepping away, and just staring at the door. He yearns for a response... even just a noise of acknowledgement. And yet, there comes no reply.

Logan just stands there, almost stupidly so, before he jumps when he hears his mother call "goodnight, Logan!" from the bottom of the stairs.

He looks down the hall, back at the guest room door, and then back down the hall again. Feeling... devastated, Logan trudges to the top of the stairway, and forces a polite smile as he responds "goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad."

He sees them both smiling back up at him, cuddled close together where they stand. They squeeze each other, before disappearing out of sight, shutting themselves into their own room for the night. And with no other option, Logan retires to his room as well, and falls face-first against his mattress. It smells like sex, sweat, and Remus. The scents cause him to relax, but also cause his gut to twist in a rather intense manner, which only furthers his negative feelings.

To some extent, he knows he upset Remus. To a different extent, he doesn't understand why. And Remus won't tell him. Remus won't tell him anything.

Logan thinks back to the scribbled-out notes Remus wrote, and one part really makes his stomach cramp.

He is an object for sex, Remus had written. And he'd already admitted that this was said about Logan. He is an object for sex.

He's nothing more.

Logan can't be anything more.

Logan sinks deeper into his comforter as he thinks about that fully. His blankets consume him and his arm begins to tingle as he lays atop it in an uncomfortable manner. Despite this, he can't bring himself to move it. Because to Remus, Logan would apparently never be anything more.

And that made him feel... bad.

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