His smile is all too pleased with himself when Wes startles to attention and does what he can to maintain some amount of modesty. It's all in vain of course. To his nose, the whole place smells faintly of sex and sweat and testosterone. All of which only serve to keep him keyed up even when he's sucking on a beer and not Kurt.

He's tempted to same something toward the fact that no combination of the three of them haven't seen each other naked at this point, but clever wordplay isn't all that easy when his dick is hard. Instead he drinks and watches Wes strip.

"I'll be along..." he promises, answering the question a nod as well. And he's true to his word. He just doesn't hurry. Taking that drink with him he leans on the door jamb a moment just to watch. To see the way these two reach for each other. Which angles of one another they gravitate to.

From where he watches and waits, feeding his appetite with just his eyes and the occassional lazy stroke, Logan wishes he'd been a fly on the wall that first time. Oh, to have witnessed Wes' first fascinations with that lean, lithe body he knows so well, extra appendage and all.

"If I didn't know better, Elf. I'd think you had a t-y-p-e."