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[suchmiracles]

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cw: nsfw

[suchmiracles]

The feel of Logan bucking and shuddering underneath him is delicious enough to extend Kurt's own pleasure, shivers running like the pulse of electricity through his body in gradually slowing waves. His awareness thrums, cast wide and held in small individual moments at the same time. The ache of Logan's teeth against his shoulder, already bruising; the warmth of Wrench between his legs and the slide of his tongue and lips as he leaves him, replaced by the cool breath of the night air.

Kurt leans back against Logan's solid warmth, his breathing becoming steadier as he watches, through lowered lashes, Wrench move to sit back away from them. He's tempted to ignore Wrench's instructions and follow him, replacing his fingers with his own mouth, but the thought of watching him touch himself is enough to keep him in place for now. He rolls his body a little, enjoying the feel of Logan still inside him and the low rumble of his response. Reaching down, he encourages Logan's hands to dig into his fur, not quite tired enough to resist the urge to be playful as the storm accompanies Wrench's moans.

His softly glowing eyes devour the sight of their newest partner reaching climax, his pointed teeth catching his lower lip as his own hips rise and fall in unconscious response. As Wrench subsides, he carefully lifts himself off of Logan's lap, giving the Canadian a lambent glance and a brief caress of his tail across his jaw as he stands up, only slightly shaky. This, he decides, is far from over.

He pads over to Wrench, the shadows of the dimly lit room turning into inky brushstrokes across his fur, then kneels between his spread legs. Slowly, he reaches down and takes up Wrench's hand in both of his, raising it to his mouth to carefully and delicately lick it clean.

cw: nsfw

[howlett]

When Kurt finds his feet gracefully, the groan that escapes Logan is anything but. A short, pained and totally involuntary sound brought on by the unexpected stimulation and shiver that takes place of the warmth that once surrounded him.

More exhausted than he'd typically expect to be after just one round, he can't help but feel like that lethargic feeling that people tell him will eventually go away has already over stayed its welcome. He lets himself drop back to the bed, but's a short lived relaxation when Kurt's tail gazes his chin and pulls his attention down towards the pair of them knelt there before the bed.

If watching Wes make a show of himself wasn't already enough to make him think he can rally for more of this, he moans some frustrated obscenities when the two of them paw at each other. Propping himself up on an elbow he watches a long moment, stroking himself, letting his breath heave, until that ragged breath dissolves into a cough.

"If you're gonna keep that up you both need to get up here where I can reach you," he grumbles. Maybe it's the minor work out, his shallow breath or just his satiated expression, but Logan, despite himself, looks more tired now than he did when he woke them up for this.

cw: nsfw

[wwrench]

Arced back on his heels, Wrench feeds Kurt his fingers like a priest offering blessed communion. The body is his own, shared at the other man's lips and compressed against his tongue until his own mouth parts in kind and he shudders out a hot, quaking breath. The heady insistence leaves no room for his gratitude, but it's what Wrench feels most profoundly as he looks past the man drinking him in to the bed where the third in their trio lies stretched across the mattress like a fresh body laid to rest. For a moment he's overcome by what he doesn't know about these men -- what they still don't know about him -- but the peace he's found here nevertheless. There's an implicit understanding shared in the silence between their bodies. A sort of forgiveness between men like them who know better than to ask the questions they might not want to answer for themselves.

Wrench drags Kurt's lower lip into a pout with his finger and leans in to kiss him, brazen and unapologetic and intended for the watchful eyes of the man on the bed whose hand moves against himself again. When Logan beckons to them he smiles and finds his feet, dragging his shorts back up himself but discarding his undershirt before offering a hand down to his companion. He gestures to the bed, but doesn't move to join the duo immediately. Instead Wrench notes the flush on Logan's skin and the bead of sweat that lingers on his brow. You need water, he notes, and pads through the darkened cabin to the kitchen to return with a filled glass for the man.

He doesn't intend to stay, expecting on this night like the ones before that his restlessness will only keep the two men up. But as Wrench settles at the edge of the bed to insist that Logan drink, he finds his own sense of exhaustion almost overwhelming, and the desire to settle in with them almost unignorable.