Fic: 'Never Bring a Knife to a Fist Fight' (Veronica Mars, Logan/Weevil, NC-17, 1/1) Title: Never Bring a Knife to a Fist Fight Fandom: Veronica Mars Characters: Logan/Weevil Word Count: 689 Rating: NC-17 Spoilers: N/A Challenge: Porn Battle VII: Veronica Mars, Logan/Weevil, unwilling Warnings: Sexual content. Disclaimer: No one mentioned belongs to me. Summary: It starts with Weevil punching him in the face.
Never Bring a Knife to a Fist Fight
It starts with Weevil punching him in the face.
It starts with Weevil punching him in the fucking face, so Logan does the only thing that makes sense. He punches back. He lands a solid one to Weevil's ribs, and is launching for a head punch (they'll have matching black eyes) when Weevil catches his fist. There's a blurry bit of momentum in the middle, and then Weevil's got him in some sort of Heimlich hold. Logan's a bit surprised, since Weevil only comes to about cock-height on him anyway, but he guesses the guy's stronger than he looks. Logan's in good, arms pinned to his sides so he can't even elbow backwards and duck out.
Weevil is hard against him. They're both breathing a little heavily, and Logan's heady from a mix of adrenaline and the throbbing pain in his fucking face where Weevil fucking punched him, but he's not so far gone that he's imagining another guy's erection pressed against him. Pressed against a very suggestive place, actually. Logan's not the sort of guy who imagines things, because imagining happens out of hope, and he never has to hope that he's going to get laid.
"Say you're sorry," says Weevil, unfairly casual, although Logan figures he'd be casual, too, if he had a guy in a choke hold.
"Go fuck yourself," says Logan, ever petulant.
"Why bother when I've got you?" there's a low growl in Weevil's throat just before Logan is forced to his knees. Weevil unzips his pants and waits expectantly. "C'mon, pretty boy, it's not like I punched you in the mouth."
"It's funny, but this lack of depth perception thing really isn't flattering the size of your cojones," sneers Logan, needing to get the last word in. "maybe you should start shaving or something. I hear that makes it look bigger.
"It'll be more than enough for you, I'm sure," says Weevil, fisting Logan's hair in his calloused hand and dragging Logan's lips to his waiting cock. He pushes in too much, too far, too fast. Logan gags and tries to pull back a little bit, but Weevil's hands are pretty strong for all the Busch league thugging he does, so he's got a decent grip on Logan's skull.
"Suck it, Echolls. Like you don't do it for all your 09er 'bros'." Weevil's voice takes on that mocking surfer dude pitch he always uses when he's trying to piss Logan right the fuck off. Logan's blood is boiling, and his eye isn't the only thing that's swelling. But he stays still, until Weevil lets out a frustrated hiss and then starts fucking Logan's mouth. If Logan were bent over a desk and taking it, he wouldn't be able to walk the next morning, Weevil's being so fucking aggressive. Logan likes to know it's not all talk.
He grips Weevil's hips and digs blunt nails into the skin, trying to slow the voracity of his thrusts. He grabs Weevil's balls, likes the way it throws him off rhythm. He's pretty sure Weevil doesn't mean to moan the way he does, halfway between pleasure and pain and entirely without control. Logan squeezes harder, scrapes his teeth over the underside of Weevil's dick. Weevil grabs his head hard enough to bruise, not that they're the worst injuries Logan will sustain. Weevil comes hot in Logan's throat, refuses to move until Logan's swallowed. It's bitter, or maybe just he is.
Weevil tosses Logan aside like a rag doll, even though he's the one who's limp. He pulls his pants back up and fixes Logan with a contemptuous glare. "Clean yourself up, Echolls, you look like shit."
"That's only 'cause you can't punch worth a damn," says Logan, getting to his feet.
"Want me to try again? I hate to think you think so Little of me."
"Only because there's so little to think of."
"You're fixing for a matching pair, Echolls," says Weevil, cracking his knuckles.
"Would you really wanna bust up this pretty face?" Logan grins widely. "Where else would you put your cock?"
"Oh I could think of a few places," says Weevil, and swings.