Work Text:
Untitled short
by fantailshrimp
fantailshrimp@yahoo.com
He hadn't meant to do it.
Not really.
Sure the Cajun got his dick hard, but a lot of things did that. He even got a hard on over Scott once. Boring, stick up his ass, smelling like pencil shavings Scott.
Gambit didn't smell like pencil shavings.
He smelled like bourbon and gunpowder. Sweat, spice, sex, trouble and something else. Something Logan couldn't pinpoint.
The Wolverine needed to know what it was. Wanted to hold Gambit down and lick him over and over until he could figure it out. But Logan had learned to live with the Wolverines urges. Learned to push them to the back of his mind. Ignore them.
Until tonight.
Until that sleazy Vegas strip club Cajun dragged them to. Until Gambit got wasted and Logan had to practically carry him back to the equally sleazy motel room.
Until, he got out of the shower to find Gambit siting naked in the crappy motel chair. A glass of bourbon in one hand his dick in the other. Leg's spread wide, hand stroking his obscenely hard cock. That "Gambit" smell of his thick and cloying in the air.
Didn't even realize he was moving until he was standing in front of the Cajun, until Gambit's whiskey voice rasped out, "You looking hungry Wolvie. See something you like"?
Didn't realize he dropped to his knees until gambit's cock was staring him in the face. A sight so unfamiliar it made him hesitate. He was half way to changing his mind when that whiskey voice rasped out again "Don't worry homme. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."
"Yeah, it better" Logan grumbled as he leaned in for his first taste of cock.
end