X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Victor/James, no past
Logan still tastes of cheap beer, still chews the ends of unlit cigars. He still prefers to work outdoors and comes back smelling of fresh air, of crisp, clean sweat. His mouth still opens slowly for the long, lazy kisses he never admitted he liked, and he still spreads his legs at the press of a hand between them.
But now he's on his back more often than his knees. His heels dig in brutally hard at the base of Victor's spine, his fingers clamped tight around Victor's throat. Both thumbs grate against Victor's collarbone, a threat to snap bone if Victor tries to close the distance between them, prevent him from watching where Victor fucks into him. It drives Victor crazy with the need to bite the snarl from his mouth. That isn't new, but he's almost strong enough now to make Victor wait until he wants it, too.
He wants more since Three Mile, or maybe this new version has decided to be more vocal about it. As far as he knows, there's nothing between them but this. This, and some tenuous link to a past Victor only sometimes wants to share.
It's been a long time since he's seen trust in Jimmy's gaze. It's wary, fledgling, but there.
And as long as it is, Victor doesn't need his little brother. Logan'll do.