That give and take of control and restraint, tension and relief, desperation and satisfaction is what Logan craves about these moments. No matter how urgent or slow it is, the push and pull they wrestle one another though demands as much from their bodies as it does from their minds. Logan's version of slow can border on tantric. Languid and meditative, he moves against Kurt in a way that luxuriates in everything the younger man gives him. His forehead fallen to feel the plush of Kurt's chest. His open palms feeling for the way his back flexes. His focus fighting for all of those slight sensations above and beyond the singularly encompassing feeling of Kurt's body around him. It all puts the instinctual and intellectual into such stark relief in a way that few things do. In a way that makes him feel more uniquely human than almost anything else he knows.

He's certain he can feel when Kurt is lost in it too. And when he's trying to postpone that sensation that threatens to drown them by relaxing himself. Pulling in a breath of cool air not heated by the body of the other man. Logan tries to relax with him. Pulling back from the void that they stumble towards when they start writhing against each other with every muscle taut.

He slows to a lazy rocking. Holding himself up with his palms against the mattress to give Kurt enough room to breathe.

"I know..." he the words rolls from his chest on a growl, but he gives no indication of how long he's been aware and either unperturbed, or perhaps emboldened by their onlooker. "You're not shy, are you?" even the way his lips curl to ask proves Logan already knows the answer to the question he goads him with.

"Do you want him to watch?" he asks instead. Sitting up on his knees he kisses that leg draped over his shoulder and his hand make an admiring pass over Kurt's stomach. "Or do you want him to touch?"