Things get heated on the training room floor.
The girls let Laura in on The Plan.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Pspspsps heeeeere kitty kitty kit– oof. ”
Wade was knocked forward, slammed bodily into the wall in front of him. He turned his head just in time to avoid introducing the cartilage in his nose to his frontal cortex, but didn’t have any time to congratulate himself because his arms were suddenly wrenched back and folded so that his wrists were over top of each other and before he could even process what was happening a sharp, stinging pain lit up his nerve endings making him scream, more in shock than in pain (though it did hurt like fuck).
“What now?” Logan growled over his shoulder as he twisted his claws a few degrees, shredding through the tendons in Wade’s forearms.
The pain wire in Wade’s brain (like mst things in there) had never exactly been a straight line from point A to point B and over the years it’d become crisscrossed with the pleasure wire somewhere along the line. This moment was no different. The sparks that were lighting up his insides caught fire, something primal and urgent burning low in his gut.
“I can think of a few things,” he said, breathlessly, “but you’re probably not gonna like my answers.” It was barely a joke. He had sooooo many ideas where this could go next. Each one more depraved than the other and sure to get him castrated — and not in a fun way.
Didn’t help Logan was standing so close – close enough Wade could feel the heat radiating off the man’s chest, feel his breath hot and sticky against the back of his neck.
He swallowed hard, waiting for the inevitable stab through the skull.
Jesus Christ, is it normal to like the smell of someone’s sweat?
About to have one very noticeable problem if he doesn’t back the fuck off.
Shouldn’t we be getting our skull skewered right about now?
They were right. Logan hadn’t moved yet, hadn’t said anything either, was just panting heavily in Wade’s ear like the world's sexiest labrador retriever.
(A labrador retriever that was no doubt about to sink his teeth into Wade’s throat as soon as he moved. Fuck! Why did even that sound good?)
An incessant beeping coming from Logan’s wrist interrupted the loaded silence.
“What is that?” Wade risked asking when Logan made no move to turn it off, like he didn’t even hear the annoying alarm.
A second passed, then Logan cleared his throat.
"Detention's over.” His voice was so much closer to Wade’s ear than he’d realized, all raspy and deep, sending shivers up his spine.
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