Work Text:
Logan sat by the fire under the wide northern sky and wondered, not for the first time, why he couldn’t be content out here. It was always Victor who eventually pulled them back into the city but he wasn’t blind. He knew he was the reason why.
The five of them—him and Victor, Zero and Fred, Wade—were a four-day hike inland from Nain off the Labrador coast. Stryker’s evasiveness on the radio with how long he expected them to be out here had started to wear on his nerves. He’d give it one more night before Victor tired of Zero playing teacher’s pet, making like he knew more than he was letting on, and pried the truth out of him.
The fire hissed and popped as Logan tested the meat stuck on a spit over it. Without Victor ranging out for small game, they’d have been in a tough spot when Fred’s pack tumbled into a watery gorge shortly before sunset on day two. He tugged open his coat in concession to the heat.
“This is cozy,” Wade said, settling down on the opposite side of the flames. He pulled off his fuzzy hat and gloves, tossed them aside to hold his hands out for the fire to warm. “Dinner done yet, honey pot?”
Craggy tundra made for rough going and the fluctuating end of season temperatures weren’t doing them a kindness. It wasn’t hitting Wade much harder physically, but the long stretches of nothing on the horizon ate at him.
“So I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days,” Wade said. “Fred doesn’t snore loud enough to drown out Zero sleep-wanking it to dreams of the major’s fat nutsack in his face.” Underneath the oily smoke, his scent had taken on a flavour that had become all too familiar in the last little while, even if he hadn’t had an opportunity to act on it yet. “But you’re looking well-rested.”
“Wade,” Logan warned, the quick flash of teeth in the firelight telling him too late his mistake in taking a tone Wade heard him use with Victor dozens of times before.
Fred lumbering up with Zero on his heels granted Logan a few more hours grace.
After the bones were picked clean and Wade’s staring at Victor delicately licking grease from his claws had Zero scowling, Fred slapped his thighs and stood. A round of nods served as a goodnight. The belated one from Wade made him hesitate.
They’d lost a good chunk of MREs with Fred’s pack but had hung onto the camp gear. They had two four-person, four-seasons tents, three people that took up more than their share of space and ran abnormally hot, and one person who didn’t care to play nice with others.
“I’m good, big guy,” Wade said, waving him off. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed beavers bite.”
Zero sneered. “Right. Have fun freezing your balls off.” The fire crackled. He looked around the loose circle incredulously. “You don’t actually think they’ll let you get in the middle of their nightly cuddle.”
Too many smells sat stifling on the still night air. Always, even through the meat and the smoke, the scent of Victor first. The shift in Wade’s had begun to crowd a close second. When Victor took note of it, head tilted in curious interest, he felt it like the build of static electricity.
“Leave it,” Logan tried, resigned.
“Nothing to add, Wade?” Victor asked, wound through with what sounded like the usual threat. “No funny joke about how I must be dicking my little brother?”
“See, I’d been hoping you’d be down to dick me.” Wade couldn’t know the way he did that this was Victor’s dangerous kind of playful. An invitation to join in for a round of turnabout with Zero’s smug game. “Just like Scoutmaster Kevin used to tell us—all those strange noises and spooky moans are just ghosts, guys.”
“God.” Zero shoved away from the fire Logan calmly focused on banking for the night. “If I hear one single ‘strange noise’ from you, Wade, I’m going to shoot your dick off.”
“Fred’s a good cuddle,” Wade called after him, earning a wide grin from Fred before he left the dying ring of light. “Maybe he can thaw your icy ass from the inside out, princess!”
The cold gleam of the half moon took over as Logan heaped ashes on the smouldering embers. Shadows formed and quickly faded as his eyes adjusted. Victor’s night vision had always been better than his; what was more like late twilight for him was clear as midday for his brother.
Wade hadn’t moved from his spot lounging on the rocks. For him, nights away from a city’s artificial glow were varying shades of black.
The scrape of Victor’s boots as he rose was deliberate. Wade’s heartbeat tripped and sped, an adrenaline rush pushing through his veins and into his sweat. Still, he didn’t smell like prey. Prey was never so eager to be caught.
Logan unconsciously drew deeper breaths mirroring the sound of Victor savouring it. Desire, fear, those were easy scents to separate from the pack. Anticipation, like dread, was a subtler current. Wade’s scent hadn’t been the same since they’d shared him, but that wasn’t the only thing that was different.
He found his mind wandering, conjuring images of what Wade might see of Victor prowling close from the shifts in his scent. A shadow fallen across the moon in an anxious spike. The slower roil of it as Victor sank to his haunches and the heat of his body pushed through night air gone cold without the fire. A thrum of excitement at Victor reaching for him, a thread of uncertainty not knowing if it would be a kiss or claws that followed.
Wade might not smell like prey but he was caught shivering in Victor’s grasp all the same.
“Get in the tent, Wade,” Victor said.
Fierce arousal turned Wade clumsy. A loose rock slipped under his boot and Victor stepped close, cupped a hand on his elbow to steady him. “Yeah, sure,” he said, eyes gone wide from the thrill of unexpected care at Victor’s hands. “Why the hell not.”
Logan didn’t much like the kind of sordid amusement he got from watching Victor toy with Wade. Close on its heels came the thought that there wasn’t any real harm in it; Wade knew what his brother was like. If Wade wanted to be a plaything, that was his choice.
Victor’s head dipped close to Wade’s. The night carried the rumble of Victor’s voice but not the words. Wade nodded and flashed a cocksure grin Logan’s way before he headed for the shallow peat trough where they’d pitched the tents. The glow from inside one where Zero and Fred still moved about readying for bed and the lamp left burning on a hook outside the other was enough for him to pick his way along.
When Victor stood over Logan in a taste of what he’d imagined for Wade before, it felt like he’d inherited some of Wade’s unsteadiness. With that and the scent of Victor’s enjoyment muddying his thoughts, he took the offered hand, let Victor drag him up and tuck him close. There was no other reason for why he accepted the brush of knuckles on his face tilting him into a lazy kiss out in the open.
Whatever had gotten into him, there was some of it in Victor too. His mouth on Logan’s was easy, almost sweet. Still possessive—Victor didn’t know any other way to touch him—but with a willingness to give instead of take. It cleaved onto something in his chest he’d forgotten was there.
Victor’s self-satisfied gaze lingered, then lifted to fix somewhere over his head.
“Dammit, Victor,” Logan said, and Victor laughed at being shaken off. It was only Wade lingering outside staring at them but the uneasy twist in his gut wouldn’t quit. He stalked past without acknowledging the shit-eating grin plastered across Wade’s face and ducked into the tent.
His and Victor’s tent, that had lost the chemical stink of new canvas after the first night. He’d aired it out each morning but it still smelled of them when he unpacked it later. On edge and senses primed, that scent, musky and close like a den, drove him to his knees.
Modern life had no place for it. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d been out in the wilds where it would flourish. Wars now were an assembly line of grunts and gear; quick transpo meant permanent bases, camps set up and knocked down with drilled precision when they were needed.
Wade crawled in after him and gleefully asked, “What did I miss?”
He wasn’t sure why he was so quick to roll Wade under him. It didn’t feel wholly real. He was used to Wade in their space. Even before they’d started fucking, the kid didn’t have much in the way of respect for boundaries. Wade was eager for the push of his tongue, knees drawn up and held tight to his sides, dick already stiff and getting thicker, and any thoughts given to whys or hows were an irritating distraction.
Inside he felt like the fire he’d banked. Rutting against Wade fanned the coals, turned the warm glow to a searing heat that sparked but didn’t catch. The taste of Wade’s skin, the soft give of flesh between his teeth, stoked the smouldering burn but still wasn’t enough.
“Whatever the fuck this is,” Wade gasped delightedly, trying to wriggle out of his thick coat with Logan struck too dumb to give him the space to do it, “I fucking like it. Too many clothes, though. C’mon, babe, work with me here.”
“You couldn’t wait for me, hm?” Victor said, pleased.
The sound of the tent sealing ratcheted up Logan’s spine. He took Wade’s mouth again as if he’d find what he was looking for there this time around. Every small noise made his ears perk—Victor shedding jacket and boots, the rustle of the sleeping bags he’d unfolded earlier to serve as blankets they would share, Wade’s laughing attempt to pipe up with some comment that would earn him Victor’s attention.
Wade was right; clothes had to go. He pinned the sleeves of Wade’s coat one after the other so he could pull free. With it gone, the smell of his body sharpened. Sweat had washed away the sharp vinegary reek of cleansing wipes. Just beneath the skin, his blood ran thick with so many scents—desire, first and foremost, to want and be wanted. Pleasure that peaked at Logan’s touch, the desperation that flooded in its place when he drew away. A willingness to be spread out under him, throat and belly bared, that tasted more intimate than trust.
“What the hell,” Logan groaned, head bowed.
“Wondered how long it would take you.” Victor knelt over him, caged him in with bare arms and the heavy weight of a body laid out across his back. The rasp of Victor’s tongue on the nape of his neck brought on a shockwave of lust so strong it left him shaken. “This is what you’ve been doing to me for months now, Jimmy.”
“Doing what,” Wade said, shoving up onto his elbows as Victor pulled Logan up unresisting to start peeling him out of his clothes. “Share with the rest of the class, please, not all of us speak sibling.”
Logan groaned as Victor’s hand on his throat made him drag in too deep a breath and set his head to spinning. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take shallower sips through his mouth. They’d never taken a third to bed more than once. Victor had never bothered with a steady fuck, always preferring to pick what struck his fancy at the time.
The thought never crossed his mind there might be something more behind Victor’s habit of fucking and moving on, or why there had always been one good reason or another he’d never brought anyone he’d been seeing around where Victor was.
Because that fundamental change in Wade’s scent, it was his brother.
The warm thick smell of Wade’s dick pried Logan’s eyes open, dragged his gaze down. Wade had one arm tucked behind his head, had gotten a boot off at some point to drag his pants down so his bent knees splayed wide. The need to take Wade’s cock into his mouth, see if he could taste Victor on him too, had him swaying forward in Victor’s grasp.
Calmly, Victor hooked him back and unbuckled his belt. Logan scraped the dregs of his thoughts together and asked, dry and rasping, “When?”
“Oh, here and there,” Victor said, thumbing open the button of Logan’s fly. “In the kitchen once or twice.”
“In the shower,” Wade said, lazily enticing like he knew exactly why Logan had asked. “Last week, right after you did.”
“My bunk, his bunk.” Victor pushed Logan’s clothes down past his thighs. “Your bunk.”
“Christ,” Logan said. He could see Victor’s bulk bearing down on Wade, hear Wade’s excited gasp when Victor took him in hand, feel the delicate threat of claws at his own throat. When Victor looped an arm around his waist, fisted his dick, reality overlapped imagination. The pleasure rush felt exactly like being drunk except for how that was always a fight against sobriety. He didn’t need to chase this. Couldn’t run from it.
“Don’t be so loud,” Victor said, and gave Logan a few long, slow pulls that ended with precome gathered up on the webbing between thumb and forefinger. “Unless you want them to hear what I do to you.”
Victor brought his hand close to Logan’s face so he could smell himself on his brother’s skin. Before Logan could, Victor swept it up with the flat pass of his tongue.
“I don’t mind,” Wade said, his eyes bright on Logan. He licked his lips wet and caught the bottom one with his teeth, jacked his cock and let it slip showily free. It glistened in the low light as it curved into a sly smile. “You can make some noise for me.”
Victor’s hand was slick when it wrapped around Logan again. “Not going to last, are you,” he said, tugging just right to make sure he didn’t. Logan’s balls were already drawn up tight. “Move your hand, Wade.”
Grinning fiercely, Wade dropped his dick.
“You know what I want,” Victor told him. “Do it.”
Wade’s mouth fell open on a delighted gasp when that shoved him over the edge. It sank into a throaty groan as his come striped Wade’s dick, and Wade’s hand was already on its way back to start jerking off with it before he was done.
He stopped short at Victor’s growled, “Hands off.”
“Oh come on,” he griped, but put his hand down.
Victor wrung the one last stuttering shot out of Logan and nudged him aside while the echoes of it were still fading. His stomach swooped sickeningly.
“Easy,” Victor said, pulling his dick out. “Trust me.”
What happened next came to him in bits and pieces, like he’d finally hit his limit for what overtaxed senses could parse—Victor spitting into Logan’s palm, the blood-thick heat of him as he used Logan’s hand to jerk himself off. Gleaming precome dripping from his claws onto his dick to make it slicker. Wade squirming, hands twisted in the bedding and colour high in his cheeks when Victor came, adding to the mess on Wade’s dick.
Victor gripping him by the hair and pushing his face into it, the overwhelming taste and smell of them mixing on Wade’s skin as he panted and unfurled his tongue. How it changed when Wade pulsed and came for him, the vague soreness in his tongue as he licked that up too.
The way his brother purred into his empty mouth when he was done.
—
Logan woke in the small hours with a clearer head. He took a long pull from his canteen, nose wrinkled at the silty taste—clean water and their filters were limited, so he and Victor made due with scattered puddles and snowmelt—and spit a bit into his hand to scrub at the come dried crusty in his beard.
On one side, Wade curled up facing away, sleeping bag tucked close to his chin. On the other, Victor stretched out on his back, bare chested. Their scents were still muddled but less all-consuming. Heavy like a patchwork quilt, warm and comfortable like the travel sheet he’d snorted at finding in their bedroll. That was a luxury they didn’t need but he figured might as well use since it was there.
He dragged a hand through his hair and huffed, took another swig of water and screwed the cap back on. Victor’s eyes were open in the dark, a shadowed gleam watching him. Cocking an eyebrow, he offered the canteen.
Lazily, Victor rolled onto his side. He licked his teeth after drinking and set it aside. Propped up on an elbow, head resting against his knuckles, he went back to watching, silent and still. Anticipatory like on a hunt, relaxed like he’d already caught what he was after. It set Logan’s skin to prickling.
“What,” he growled under his breath.
A smile, equally lazy, with a hint of fang at the corner. “I can’t want to look at you?”
Not a look like that, not out here with Wade’s breathing soft and measured beside them. Something hot and vaguely disagreeable coiled through his stomach. Fucking was easy, basic. That look wasn’t.
“Poor Jimmy,” Victor laughed. He curled his fingers under Logan’s jaw, stroked a thumb over his mouth. “Always got your shorts in a twist.” The short delay before Logan pulled out of his grasp made his smile spread. “Do you really think this is any different?”
“Go back to fuckin’ sleep,” Logan muttered, settling down.
The reprieve lasted long enough for him to think Victor would listen, then the rasp of cotton over bare skin killed a hope he wasn’t as sorry as he should be to see gone. It was stupid to put his back to Victor. Stupider to think putting Wade square in his sights would do anything more than feed that dark ugly thing taken up residence in his chest when Victor pressed against him, naked as he was under the covers.
“Don’t,” he said, knowing full well he played mouth service to what he thought he should want.
Victor draped an arm over Logan’s hips, let fingers brush his cock nestled soft against his thigh. “What makes you so sure I haven’t already?”
Disjointed memories were a jumble of sensation; the taste of Wade’s skin, Victor’s come thick on his tongue. Surrounded by their scent and Wade’s pleasure shocked gasps as he kept going long after he’d licked Wade’s cock clean, Victor’s satisfied purr in his ear had hooked into some primal part of him he wouldn’t look at too close in the light of day.
His dick started to thicken before Victor took him in hand. Any ache left behind would’ve long since faded, but there’d be plenty other evidence if Victor’d had him while he’d been under. On him or in him, Victor never left him unmarked.
“You’ll like it,” Victor said, nuzzling at him. “You’ll play at not wanting it and because you’re my little brother, I’ll let you. For a while.”
Logan clenched his jaw against the trickle of warmth saturated with Victor’s scent escaping from beneath the blankets. It’d be easier if the only thing he could smell on Victor was lust. If that had been all there was, he’d be able to resist the pull even if he wasn’t as clear-headed as he’d first thought.
“But you know,” Victor carried on, so calmly reasonable while he wound Logan up, “sometimes, Logan, I get tired indulging your moods.”
“My fuckin’ moods,” Logan snapped, words knocked loose more by disbelief than by Victor pushing at the back of his thigh, spreading his legs to drag knuckles over his taint. His knee rucked up the cover on the sleeping pad.
“Sure. You run hot for me one minute—” Victor left a wet kiss burning on his shoulder. “Next you run cold. Try to act like you don’t want my hands on you when I can taste how much you do. Just like you are now.”
Logan shut his eyes; he didn’t want to see it when Wade finally stirred. “Not saying no, am I.”
“No.” Victor’s hand slipped away, came back wet. “But you’re not saying yes, either.”
“Christ.” He was halfway on his belly as it was. That was more permission than Victor ever needed or wanted. His cock gave a hard kick when Victor spit again, filled out so fast at the soft dirty sound of Victor slicking up it knocked a grunt free. The breath he dragged in after carried a newly familiar scent.
“Tell me yes, Jimmy,” Victor said, dick hot in the crack of Logan’s ass. “Be sweet for me, tell me how much you want me to fuck you.”
The head of Victor’s cock started to split him open. He felt the bones in his hands shift.
“You did cockblock him last time,” said Wade, muzzy with sleep. “Real brother behaviour, kind of rude when you’ve already jizzed.”
“I didn’t fuckin’—” Up and left, dick wet and guts churning. Chased out of his own goddamn bed by a truth he couldn’t stand someone else knowing. And still, he hadn’t slammed the door behind his fool ass because he’d needed to hear it when Victor pumped a load into Wade right after him.
“Have you tried couples counseling? It’s all the rage now.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Logan growled, teeth aching. It was his own damn fault he’d let Victor back him into a corner. And didn’t he always? Rarely left himself a way out—where the fuck could he even run to if he wanted, buck fucking naked in the middle of frozen nowhere.
“Wade,” Victor said, easing off, and Logan choked back the instant surge of loss, “if you want to suck my brother’s dick—“
“Oh, I do.”
“Shut the fuck up until I get him on mine.”
The covers went flying as Wade flung them aside. Logan flinched. “I’m up, I’m up,” he said, slapping at his cheeks. “Holy motherfucking Jesus, did you say get up or shut up? Because I am so very up right now.”
“Fuck,” Logan grated, “fuck.” He turned his face into his flat-pack pillow, fighting off a shiver he blamed on the rush of cool air. He felt pinned in place, caught ass up for his brother, that nameless thing inside him swelling hungrily.
It’d been better earlier when he’d been too out of it, too drunk on the reasons why Wade didn’t smell the same anymore to notice or care.
“There you go again,” Victor said. “Dick drooling, you pretending it’s not. I’m not going to jack you off so you can roll over and go to sleep this time.”
Wade’s cold hand wormed its way under him, made him jerk and fight to swallow a moan. “You are,” Wade whispered like a secret. “You’re so fucking wet.”
“If you want it, you’re going to ask me for it.” So fucking sure of him, Victor palmed his ass, thumb tucked into the crease and rubbing at his hole.
Wade’s shocked moan when his dick pulsed hit harder than any joke could’ve. Somehow, he’d managed to work his way around to thinking he still had a chance at glossing it all over. Just brush it aside, ignore it, forget all the shit Victor should’ve kept a fucking lid on.
He’d already shown Wade how eager he was for a belly full of come at Victor’s hand. He’d fucking laid himself out, stripped bare, for Wade to see just what kind of slut he was for his brother’s goddamn dick.
The thing he couldn’t name sat perched like a vulture ready to feast.
“Ask me for it, Jimmy,” Victor purred for him, darkly intimate, a warning that he could wait for as long as it took to get his way. He’d done it before. Stuck it out for fucking years to get Logan where he wanted him. “Sweetheart,” he said, and made a whine rise up in the back of Logan’s throat, barely stifled. “I’d like to hold you this time.”
Victor’s dick was at his hole again, freshly wetted. It pushed at him, a perfect fucking tease right on the verge of opening him up.
“Fuck you,” Logan groaned, stupid, pointless. An animal’s last desperate struggle against Victor’s claws sunk into its throat.
“Almost,” Victor laughed. “Not quite.”
“Fucking do it.” Not enough for Victor or the swelling, bloated feeling inside him. He couldn’t figure what had him so hungry for it. “Victor, fuck, just get your fucking dick in me.”
“Oh my sweet Christ,” Wade breathed.
“I think I said ask,” Victor said, the noise Logan couldn’t let loose from his chest coming out of Wade in a whimper.
The pillow under Logan’s face was hot and damp. Victor eased away again, nearly had him whining from the surge of dread when he didn’t come back right away. Victor would wait him out but wouldn’t leave him like this. If he needed to be pushed—wanted to be shoved—Victor would do it for him every time.
Victor gave him the head of his dick.
“Fuck, please,” punched out of Logan too violently for how lax he was in Victor’s hold. He heard reverence in Wade’s harsh curse, felt the heat spread up from his chest to stain his face. Air burned his lungs he gulped it so fast. “I want you to fuck me.” Something he didn’t recognize in his voice as Victor fucked shallowly into him, made a space inside him to fill. “Fucking— I need it. Please, Victor.”
Victor’s breath stirred the hair at his nape. “Now, was that so hard? Say it again.”
So he said it again. And again when Victor told him to. Then once more when Victor didn’t, and that thing he was afraid to name finally ruptured and spilled free in a terrible flood of pride when Victor bottomed out inside him, held him split open and pleasure wracked, and told him how perfect he felt squirming on Victor’s dick.
“Are you going to stare at him,” Victor asked Wade, tugging Logan from his pillow, “or are you going to kiss him while he’s being so good for me?”
“Kisses coming right up.” Cool hands were soft on Logan’s face, a welcome relief from the flooding heat as Victor put him on full display, leg pulled back over Victor’s so his cock jutted up thickly, flushed deep, dark red.
Wade let out a shuddering breath. His thumbs stroked beneath Logan’s eyes, made him blink them open into the twilight of the tent. “The look on your face.”
“Ah, Jimmy,” Victor said, tsk-tsk of false disappointment that clashed sickly with the urge to preen that he couldn’t stuff back in the damn box now that he’d let it out. Victor gripped him by the hip, holding him in place so he could drag his cock free, fuck it back into him. “All this time, and you never let him see you like this?
“You worried he wouldn’t let you fuck him anymore once he got a taste for you, is that it?” Victor groaned low in his ear, went at him harder now he’d been loosened up. “Or do you want to tell me a pretty lie, say I’m the only one who gets you this way. Tell me that and I’ll roll you over for him when I’m done.”
Eagerly, Wade ducked in to swallow the moans Victor pushed out of him. “Is it a lie? Is your brother’s dick the only one you’ll ride?”
“Don’t fucking say that,” Logan grunted, struggling to bite his tongue on the things he’d be so free to admit if Wade weren’t watching him bright and keen as a hawk. Things he wanted Wade to hear him say, and not just because they’d make Victor want to fuck him harder.
“Why not?” Victor pulled his hand up Logan’s cock to smear all that slick over his palm and show it off. “When this is right in front of him?”
“And if you don’t want me to talk about how hot you look getting dicked down by big brother,” Wade said gleefully, “I’m going to need a little more incentive.”
“Idiot,” Victor said, more fond than harsh, and shoved at Wade’s head. “Suck him off.”
“Like that,” Wade said, and scooted down, framing Logan’s groin with both hands. “This is what I mean by incentive. Fuck, your dick is pretty. Is it just me, or is— Hm.” He circled two fingers around Logan’s cock and whistled. “Hold on, this needs to be confirmed with the scientific method.”
Logan jerked forward into the sudden wet heat of Wade’s mouth. When Victor hauled him back, Wade followed, trapping him in too brief a moment of bliss between his ass stuffed full and his dick squeezed tight.
“Babe,” Wade said, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand, “I hate-love to be the one to tell you, but.” He caught the head of Logan’s cock in his lips and sucked a fresh welling of precome out of it. “Sitting on your brother’s dick gets you really, really fucking hard. The packing on some extra girth here kind of hard.”
“Christ.” Logan turned away from Wade’s ravenous grin, torn between wishing he had that same mindless hunger from earlier riding him and being twistedly grateful he didn’t. Without the presence of mind to worry if Fred or Zero had woken up to hear him begging for it, he wouldn’t crave Victor’s pride in knowing they did.
“Don’t play shy on us now,” Victor said, taking hold of his chin to bring him back.
He tried closing his eyes again and couldn’t, not with Victor drinking in every detail of his face. The two of them fell into a rhythm like they’d planned it, Victor’s thrusts fucking him into Wade’s throat. Wade choked once or twice when Victor went deliberately out of sync; Wade caught his breath and spit on Logan’s dick in gleeful retaliation before sucking it down again.
If it weren’t for the way they kept playing fucking ping-pong with Logan’s focus—Wade rubbing his tongue pointedly at the underside of Logan’s cock, Victor shoving into him to the hilt right on target and grinding—he’d feel less like they were toying with him and more like he was the prize in their game of tug o’ war.
That thought too hot to touch, he shied away from wanting to get burned.
They kept it up until the swelling waves of orgasm had him straining for the crest. Victor fisted a hand in Wade’s hair, dragged him bodily halfway over Logan at the same time as he pushed Logan off his dick entirely. Logan fell snarling the wrong way off the precipice, his claws ripping free.
Victor stopped licking into Wade’s mouth only long enough to feed him a laugh instead.
Panting harshly, Logan wrestled with getting his claws to retract with what felt like an electric current buzzing through him. He had even less luck trying to sort through the conflicting needs clamouring for his attention, twitching from one aborted movement to the next exactly like that current had him dancing for real.
He hauled Wade off Victor, wanting to taste himself on Victor’s tongue, got halfway there before the idea of licking it from Wade’s instead struck. That thought pushed him over into wanting to see if he could taste Wade on Victor, made him want Wade’s throat clutching at his dick when he did, then swung him around to wanting to taste Victor on Wade while his brother had him fucked open and filled up again. He ended up with none of it save making himself the fool glancing frantically from Victor’s grinning mouth to Wade’s and back again.
“You are so fucked up right now,” Wade said, and laid a smacking kiss to his forehead. “How about you lie there looking pretty for us while we take care of you?”
Logan grit his teeth. “Fuck, please,” he said, nostrils flaring on a sharp inhale.
“I’m enjoying this a hell of a lot, by the way.” Wade playfully kissed his mouth and leaned over to kiss Victor the same. Victor bit his lip for daring to, made him moan by sucking at it.
“And what about you?” Victor asked, and brought the taste of Wade’s blood to Logan. He gave Logan’s ass a rough squeeze, worked his way back in while Logan stubbornly clung to the last bit of shame he had. Moved a hand around to his belly to press him back into it, get him snugged right up on Victor’s balls. “Are you enjoying yourself, little brother?”
There were dozens of filthy things Victor could’ve followed up with to make him squirm. Victor could’ve whispered the grossest obscenities to him and none of it would’ve had him losing his fucking mind when they went at him again like that question did.
In it he somehow heard all the things Victor’s said to him through the years, felt how he’d been wrapped up in promises of protection and pleasure, loyalty and love, things no one else could give him the way his brother would. The echo of it chased him right up to the trembling edge of release.
“Don’t you fucking stop,” he said, barely keeping from shouting it as he felt both of them start to pull away for a second time. “I said don’t, no—” But they let him come crashing down anyway, left him gasping and cursing and fucking praising him for it.
The same animal corner of his brain that couldn’t understand why they kept punishing him for being so good sat up and begged them to do it again.
“You’ve got to trust me, Jimmy,” Victor said, holding on so tight he’d be bruised to hell in the morning if he’d been able to keep them. “Don’t I take care of you? You can do it for me.”
Groaning, he managed a miserable nod. Wade petted at him like it was meant to be a comfort but all he felt was too much. He’d never been so solidly in his body but unable to do a damn thing with it. Victor had fucked him so loose, gotten him so wet with spit, he went from twitching emptiness to aching fullness in one smooth slide. He expected Wade to follow, open and ready for him, and nearly fucking whined when he didn’t.
“Oh, did you want this?” Wade pointed at his mouth. “I didn’t hear anything about taking it for me.”
Whether they wanted him to or not, Logan wasn’t going to last much longer. “Please, Wade, don’t—”
“Close, but no cigar,” Wade said, and rubbed his lips wet with Logan’s dick. “If you get my meaning.”
“You heard him,” Victor said, like it wasn’t up to him when Logan lost it. He knew how close Logan was, could smell it on him as much as feel it, and he damn well had to know rocking into him slow and shallow wasn’t a real chance for him to earn coming down Wade’s throat. “Better ask nicely.”
“Fuck,” Logan groaned, “I said please.” He made a clumsy grab for his cock when it jerked. Wade easily knocked his hand away. “Shit, fuck, I’m gonna—”
Victor was all out of pity; Logan couldn’t fucking breathe through the sudden hard slam of his hips. Orgasm had him caught raw in its teeth and wasn’t going to let him get a goddamn word out. Wade’s tongue grazed his slit.
“Can’t— Can’t fucking—” he gasped, dick swelling on a hard pulse and spitting come onto Wade’s tongue.
“Eh, good enough,” Wade slurred, and swallowed him whole.
He shouted. He knew he was too fucking loud, couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Victor fucked him through it, Wade sucked it out of him, and he made so much goddamn noise. Kept making it, quieter at least, as every last scrap of strength drained out of him and Victor fucked him limp as a ragdoll.
Wade eased up, held him on his tongue. Victor finished on a gravelly sort of growl that sat so low in his chest it rumbled into Logan’s on a rockslide. He breathed heavily into Logan’s nape, fingers idly tugging the hair framing Logan’s cock as it finally quit twitching.
“You should’ve made him beg,” Victor said, pulling out with a hefty wet squelch that made Logan’s face flame.
Wade sat back on his heels and spit in his palm. “Maybe I could’ve if you’d hit pause on drilling him for longer than thirty fucking seconds.”
Unrepentant, Victor shrugged. He patted Logan’s hip and rolled him a little further onto his belly. “C’mere, Wade.”
The slap of skin on skin stopped before it really got started. Logan dragged his face out of the pillow and spread his legs.
“Isn’t that sweet,” Victor said, stroking over Logan’s aching hole with a knuckle. “Four loads in him and he’s still not satisfied. Ah ah, not there. Here.”
Wade stopped again, this time down on one knee in the space Logan made for him. Wary, he asked, “Here, where?”
Logan huffed and turned a little more on his side towards Victor. If anybody else was sticking him tonight, they’d better do it fast. He was warm and well-fucked, and ready for sleep.
Legs stretched long and crossed casually at the ankle, Victor pushed up onto the palm of one hand and tapped the other on his thigh. “Right here. Don’t worry, I’m not in the mood to fuck you.”
Wade glanced down at Logan, and all he had to offer was a grunt. They’d never been here before, how the fuck was he supposed to know what Victor was after?
“I’ll take a handie,” Wade decided, and slid smoothly into Victor’s lap. Claws curled under his balls had him rising up on his knees again. “Hey, hey. Sometimes it’s tell, don’t show.”
Logan liked Wade’s cock just fine—long and slender like the rest of him—and he liked how it looked in Victor’s wide, thick-fingered hand. The tip peeked out rosily. Victor smiled, said, “Who said anything about a handie?” and ducked his head.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Wade barked. He slapped both hands to Victor’s shoulders. Vibrating with the need to run, caught by the literal short and curlies, he had nowhere to go.
Victor gave a dark chuckle, dragged the flat of his tongue from just below the ridge of Wade’s dick up over the slit. Wade let out a sound halfway between a yelp and a moan that made Logan grin sleepily. He’d gotten the brush of lips before they’d double teamed him, but he didn’t figure Wade had let Victor’s mouth properly near the goods yet. It wasn’t as noticeable kissing him, but against the sensitive skin of his cock, Wade couldn’t miss the way Victor’s tongue was just a little rough, rasping.
“Next time,” Victor said, moving his hand to start the next long lick farther down, “do what I tell you and make him beg.”
“You got it. No problem. Please let go of my dick.”
“What’s wrong?” Victor lifted his head, tongued the point of a tooth. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Logan,” Wade hissed. “Logan, help.”
“Mm, you do smell good when you’re afraid.” Keeping Wade firmly in his grip, Victor palmed the back of his skull for a slow kiss. As Victor started jacking him, Wade leaned cautiously into it, relaxing bit by bit. “Do you really think I’ve never sucked my little brother off before?”
Wade’s shoulders went back up to his ears. “Slight difference there, big guy.”
“Yeah.” Victor skimmed along Wade’s back to grab his ass and dipped his head again. “You’re smaller.”
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh my fucking— Shit.”
Hooking one of the sleeping bags with a toe, Logan pulled it up over his legs. Sleep was pulling him under one slow blink after another. He watched Victor suck Wade for as long as he could, felt a lazy stirring at the sight of his brother’s lips on Wade’s pretty cock he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about. After his eyes wouldn’t open again, he picked out what was happening from hitched moans and aborted gasps—a feather-light scrape of Victor’s teeth there, maybe the slick rough drag of his tongue here.
Wade groaned a steady stream of some of his more inventive cussing. A fresh push of arousal in the air, then a spike of not-quite fear—Wade playing with fire, tempted by the rippling clutch of Victor’s throat to risk the harder press of his fangs. Victor’s low, purring encouragement followed by the twist of their combined satisfaction dense in Logan’s lungs. It smelled so good he couldn’t help rutting a little against the bedsheet, just that with no aim in mind.
He managed to open his eyes again when Wade tumbled heavily to the bedding beside him.
“What’re you grinning at,” Wade said, mouth stretched just as wide and foolish.
Picking up a canteen—almost empty from the sound of it—Victor paused before lifting it to his mouth; Logan mustered up a small shake of his head. Victor would pour it down his throat for him if he asked, but even that sounded like too much effort to be worth it.
“Find some fresh in the morning,” Victor said, and downed most of it. The rest he swished through his teeth and spit back.
Logan offered a low hum and closed his eyes. When familiar warmth settled close, he dug up another scrap of energy to scoot into the curve of Victor’s body, back to chest, and hummed again for the heavy weight of Victor’s arm draped over him. Wade let out some sort of sound, maybe surprise, maybe appreciation—Victor’s hand wasn’t splayed out on his belly or even tucked over his junk like it usually would be after a fuck like that.
“Get some sleep, Jimmy,” Victor said after he’d drawn Wade in close too, muscles in his forearm flexing as he idly stroked Wade’s hip. His mouth brushed the damp curl of hair near Logan’s temple. “You did good.”