Alyssa Hamilton is Heaven's soldier. (four_leaves) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-11-02 21:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, alyssa hamilton, logan howlett (wolverine) |
Who: Logan and Alyssa.
What: Romantic beach night.
When: 10/25, after these texts.
Where: The beach.
Warnings: FTB sex.
Status: Complete!
In one saddle bag, Logan packed a big blanket to sit on and a comforter in case they got cold. In another was a cooler with some beers, as well as some gin and cups for the gin. In yet another was a warm meal in one of those special containers to keep it warm. Thus supplied, he rode up to Alyssa’s house. It was comfortable, though the night might get chilly later.
He cut the motor, and headed up to the door.
Alyssa didn’t change her clothes for anything, and as such, was going for a motorbike ride in a short skirt and heels. She’d done it before and been fine, damn it. Smiling, she locked the door behind her and moved to hug him. “Maybe when we’re done you can come inside and meet the cat,” she beamed.
Logan might have been a little thrilled to see her in a skirt and heels. Even beyond how attracted to her he was, it was a look that suited Alyssa well. He returned the hug one armed. In heels, she was actually taller than him, which would bother him except most people were taller than him and when the heels came off she was shorter, which was kind of nice.
Except he really didn't mind the heels. "He'll probably smell dogs on me and hate me."
“Flower? Not really. He’s far too lazy to care about things like that, so long as you pet him.” She moved to swing her leg over the bike, holding onto him as she fixed her skirt post straddle. “He’s sort of like sloth in feline form. The cutest deadly sin, really. I’d hate to have a lust cat. Or a wrath cat.”
He glanced back at her, then patted her knee. Alyssa behind him felt right. Comfortable. “I’ve seen wrath cats. They ain’t fun at all.” A sloth cat he could probably deal with. He was still more of a cat person. Just don’t ever tell Kitty that.
“What, Kitty?” Alyssa teased, running her fingernails lightly over his stomach. “She knows about us, by the by, so if you get punched, I’m sorry.”
“See what I mean about Wrath?” Logan’s breath hitched a little, and he started the bike before she could distract him more. There was no need to impress her, and he wasn’t in the mood for anything particularly dangerous. The speed of the road passing beneath them was enough for now. The moon was near full. Not quite, but close enough as they sped towards the coastal highway.
“I suddenly understand,” Alyssa teased. She let her cheek rest against his back and closed her eyes. The scenery was nice, but she really was just enjoying being close to Logan again for a while. It had been ages, and she’d missed the closeness.
So had he, more than he’d realized until now. But he hadn’t thought he’d made a mistake. Maybe he’d broken her heart, but it hadn’t been a mistake - his head hadn’t been in the right place and she’d deserved a chance to play the field, at least. There were still questions he had. Bits of memories from the time he’d died that he couldn’t explain, but he’d long ago relegated that to the past. Logan figured that there wasn’t always a need to pull on a thread. He’d done that enough and it had never ended well.
A road block didn’t stop him from taking the bike down towards a secluded beach. A good reason to bring a blanket - sand gets places even when you just sit there.
Giggling when he took the bike offroad, she wrapped her arms tighter around him. It was important to her that he knew she’d made this choice fully without any sort of outside influence or pressure. She loved him, and she knew that wasn’t going to stop or leave.
When they got off of the bike, she toed off her heels. Walking on heels in sand was just masochism.
“Damn, now you’re shorter than me again.” Logan grabbed the saddle bags and led her onto the sand, his boots crunching as he walked. He did worry about outside pressure, or even pressure from him. He just wasn’t sure how to approach the topic.
“You try walking in heels when they sink!” Alyssa beamed and ran to the waves. She liked playing on the beach as much as anyone, but she hated sunburning. So she hiked up her skirt as much as she could and let the water lap at her knees with each wave. “It’s bloody cold this time of year.”
“Don’t got the legs to pull it off.” He pulled the heavy blanket out and stretched it on the sand. “Got drinks, some food, somethin’ to keep warm in.” Logan also had other ideas if she was interested, but he was making a concerted effort to make her feel like he didn’t just want to use her for sex. He watched her stand in the ocean, her hair shining in the moonlight, and had an emotion.
“The heels make your legs better.” She laughed and splashed a tiny bit longer until the cold started to seep into her toes. She figured she should come back then, and blushed a little as she noticed Logan watching her. “Don’t worry, I know how to swim.”
She shivered a little as she sat down on the blanket, and leaned against him. He was a tiny space heater, and she was nearly always chilly. It worked out.
“Even the best swimmer can get swept out by an undertow.” He pointed out, putting an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder. “Wanna start with the food, or the gin I packed.” He turned his head to grin at her.
“Gin. Obviously.” She turned his head gently with two fingers so she could kiss him. “You’re sweet to think of me, silly old bear.” Alyssa liked that he was sweetly romantic even though it was in a much more quiet way.
“Might as well enjoy the gin before it’s gone forever,” Logan murmured against her lips. It could mean other things, too. Too many times he’d let something good slip out of his hands because he’d been afraid to lose it.
“Exactly. And even if it goes away, I’ll be okay,” she smiled. Kissing Logan still made her heart beat faster, but she was less panicked that it would go away. He’d agreed to try, and she trusted that. “I’ve got Guinness too.”
“Would really be the end of the world if that went away,” Logan mused. There were always other brands and local brews, but Guinness was a guaranteed taste and presence. He’d miss it. Unscrewing the bottle, he poured some into a plastic cup for her. The moon was enough light, but he didn’t need it.
She snorted. “Northern Ireland and the entire UK would revolt.” She let her head rest on his shoulder as she took a sip, sighing in contentment. There was gin and a nearly full moon and Logan. That was pretty much all she needed.
He put his arm around her again, squeezing her tight. “World War 3, fought over beer.”
“You think that’s not possible,” she teased. “You’d be leading the bloody thing.” Giggling, Alyssa turned her head and nipped at his neck. “You’re hops mad.”
“Mmm. I’m really that bad?” Logan tilted his head. “Even I make jokes, but I can actually drink somethin’ that ain’t beer. Sometimes. Special occasions.”
“Then prove it,” Alyssa smirked. “Drink straight gin and don’t make a face. You’re an old man, you should like it.”
Logan picked up the cup. “I had stronger shit in the army. This one time a bunch of us added hooch from a still to half a bottle of tequila. Still don’t remember the next twelve hours.” He knocked back the cup, then licked his lips. “Ain’t hard.”
“Have you had that Everclear nonsense? That’s a bit more difficult. But I’m glad you appreciate the finer things in life, and I also hope you brought more.” Just in case he hadn’t, she impishly moved to straddle his legs. “Or I can just kiss you. Either way.”
“I got a flask,” He promised, before letting out a deep growl as she straddled him. This was a better way to give her some gin. It was probably the best way he could think of. He liked the woman she’d become.
“Of course you own a flask.” Adults owning flasks seemed silly, but Alyssa had only gotten one because of the stupid US drinking laws. Smiling, she leaned down to kiss him again, pulling him closer. Sometimes riling him up was more fun than the payoff.
“Easy to carry around in a vest pocket,” he pointed out. One hand rested on the small of her back, pulling her flush against him and the other ran through her hair. Fuck. He’d missed this. Missed her.
She’d have pointed out that he was so manly he wore vests and nobody laughed at him, but she was busy kissing him lightly. It was heady, kissing Logan, knowing he’d kissed everyone and their grandmother before, knowing he’d smell arousal and perfume in equal measure on her skin. But it was better knowing he liked her too.
Every woman had a scent. He remembered every one. Scents could change over time, be modified or altered by perfume and other things, but it would still be distinctly that person. He’d always associate this perfume with Alyssa. He broke the kiss, trailing nibbles down her jaw and to her throat.
Alyssa was the sort of girl who believed firmly in tradition, and finding classic things that worked for her. She tended to wear simple eyeliner and the same red lipstick every day. She looked best in skirts. She owned two pairs of her favourite heels. And she always wore the same perfume. So if Logan wanted to associate Chanel Number 5 with her, that was fine by her. Her fingernails scratched along the back of his neck as he nibbled hers, and she pulled him closer with a quiet whimper of his name.
The hand on Alyssa’s back moved to her hip, and then the bare skin of her thigh under her skirt. He groaned against her jugular. There were things he wanted to say, that he didn’t like saying unless he absolutely meant it (and sometimes even he had a romantic streak), but this wasn’t talking time.
Lucky for him Alyssa knew that he cared about her, and she didn’t really need him to say them out loud. Her fingers worked underneath his shirt, just wanting the feeling of skin on skin, not really even for a sexual purpose. She just wanted to be close to him.
They were close but they weren’t close enough, and Alyssa had the right idea. He stopped kissing her neck long enough to pull his shirt off, ignoring the chill. He knew what he wanted, to do with her to do to her, but he’d also happily hold her skin to skin for as long as she wanted or needed.
Alyssa figured Logan never really got cold anyway, and she kissed his shoulder gently once his shirt was tossed away. Looking up at him she moved to tug off her own shirt, albeit a bit more carefully as she kind of liked it. He’d have to work at her skirt, though, as zippers were complicated. It was strange; normally she’d never think about shagging someone on the beach when it was chilly out, but with Logan it seemed important. Second nature. Something she had to do like breathing.
There was a time and place for clawing someone’s clothing off, and this was neither. Logan rubbed his hand down Alyssa’s throat while he tugged at her zippers. After several seconds he made a frustrated grunt and gave up on the skirt. The fucking skirt could stay.
Kissing her was second nature, touching her, relearning the texture of her skin and the sound of her breathing. It was a no-going-back type of moment.
The first time they’d had sex it had been a more primal, animalistic coupling. She knew this wasn’t going to be like that. Her fingers moved to undo the button and zip on his jeans and she smiled down at him before kissing him again. Instead of saying it, she thought about how much she loved him, and tried to put it into her motions.
Alyssa's smile was hard to bear. It was too beautiful, too sweet, too kind, too ... her. Logan kissed her back, aching to feel her closer. It was like he was proving something. He didn't need to prove that he was good at what he did, but he needed to prove that he deserved someone like her.
If he’d said that out loud, Alyssa probably would have punched him lightly in the arm. She would always be there to tell him he deserved her and much better, that he deserved all the good things in the world. She pulled him closer, still smiling as they kissed. She was also glowing faintly, somewhat unable to help it.
He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her chest against his own. It forced them to be closer, though it did nothing to stop her glow. He broke the kiss to groan against her throat, and reaffirm that Alyssa really was going to be the death of him.
“Trousers off,” she murmured, nipping his ear to punctuate the request. Her glow wasn’t attracting any people, thank goodness, though she’d stopped noticing she had it “on”. She did notice she was warm, which she usually was when she glowed, and if Logan hadn’t had superhealing he’d find any small cuts under her touch would be healed. She couldn’t help it. She was truly, wholly happy.
“Yes darlin’,” he replied. He smirked at her and rumbled, “I like it when you give orders.”
She laughed. “I’ve always given you orders, haven’t I?” Even when she was a virgin, she’d sassed him.
“Yeah, an’ I like that.” He grinned up at her as he shimmied out of his pants. “But only from you.” Well, and Scott, but Scott wasn’t here and Logan disobeyed his orders 75% of the time anyway.
“It’s not like you listen half the time,” Alyssa beamed. She simply hiked up her skirt since Logan had been having troubles, settling back down on his thighs. “Stubborn old thing.”
“Ain’t that old,” Logan grumped. He grabbed her hips as she settled down. And then he ran out of things to say that had to be said with words.