Into The Blue
by Azurine & Blu

Title:Into The Blue
Author: Azurine & Blu
Series: Alternate take on Blu's "Out of the Blue" Hank/Logan series, which can be found here:
Rating: NC-17 for m/m sexual contact
Pairing:: Hank/Logan. Comicverse.
Summary: Logan knows Hank wants to.
Disclaimer: Marvel owns them. No harm intended. No profit made.
Feedback: Hank approves of it.
Archive: Contacting Blu would be appreciated.
Thanks: Az thanks Blu for letting her play with his boys, er, toys. Blu thanks Az for such wonderful and witty dialogue.
Note: Blu says: After I posted the first story, Az emailed me the dialogue for this, and we got to talking, one thing led to another - you know how those random first dates are ;) - and suddenly we had this thing. We like it and so do our animals. Very much.

"C'mon, Hank. You know you wanna." Logan is not whining. Wheedling, maybe. But not whining.

"As a matter of fact, I do *not* know that I want to. In fact, it's highly likely that I want you to put your hand somewhere else. Perhaps in your own pants would be more appropriate."

"That don't change the fact that I know you wanna." Smug wheedling now.

The doctor lets out a sigh of almost cool condescension--his way of attempting to deny what he wants. "I realize that my physical reaction may indicate that I welcome your advances, however--"

"You know, if you don't stop flappin' your yap, I'm gonna hafta kiss ya."

Hank pulls back his head and widens his eyes. "Surely you would not resort to--mmph--"

A few seconds later. . .

There are a few muffled sounds, a few attempts at speech, and then, a gruff murmur: "There, that's better."

"Mmmm. . ."

"Back up."

"Logan. . ."

"Shhh. Keep walkin'."

"I can't see where--"

"Don't worry 'bout it. Couple more steps."


A gleaming, toothy grin. "That's one way to get you on your back."

"You could have asked nicely."

Two dark eyebrows rise in response to the idea.

Blue eyes roll. "Yes, I agree, quite ridiculous of me to even suggest such a thing."

Thick fingers work at the buttons on a red flannel shirt. "If I ask nicely, will you take off your pants?"

Blue skin under blue fur turns slightly darker with the crimson color of a blush. "I, um, I. . .we're truly going to do this, then?"

The leather belt comes undone at the big silver buckle. "Yep."

"Well, then I suppose I must remove my clothing at some point."

A sarcastic grin and a nod. "And I'm not plannin' on standin' here much longer, so if you wanna take 'em off yourself, you better get to it."

More melodramatic sighing. "I must admit that I'm still not entirely comfortable with the idea of being naked in the presence of a friend and teammate, although I do realize that has occurred in the locker room in the past. However, on those occasions--"

The red flannel shirt gets tossed over a big, hairy shoulder. "There you go with the talkin' again." A contemplative pause. "This bed's reinforced, right?"

"Of course. My rather unusual physique requires it."

"Good." And one animal pounces on the other.


Some muffled laughter and then: "Whatsamatter Hank? I too heavy for ya?"

"You simply took me by surprise."

"Mmmm. . ."

"I see you've discovered the pleasures of fur against bare flesh."

"Mmmmyeah. . ."

"I must admit that it feels nearly as good for me."

"Less talkin', more doin'."

Two fingers quickly tug at a zipper. A hand slips in.

"Oh! That feels wonderful. What--are you stopping? Why are you stopping?"

"You know, if you took off these damn pants, I could get a better angle."

Suddenly, a pair of oversized sweats goes flying across the room to land dejectedly with a crumpling thump against the wall.

"It's about time." A pause as he looks the beast over. "Wow, you really are blue."

Chuckle. Nerves. Chuckle more. "Yes." The doctor clears his throat. "At this moment, however, that is the least of my worries." His eyes take in a rather. . .sizable appendage, voracious.

An indignant snort meets the look. "Kinda pushy for a guy who didn't wanna take off his damn pants five minutes ago."

"I'm beginning to come around to your point of v--oh!"

A glitter in the eyes as the other man pauses and looks up. "Yeah?"

All objection flies out the window and the doctor lets out a groan. "Your arguments are--ah!--are obviously well thought out and quite con- convincing. Oh my."

"You like this?"


"What about this?"

"Even better."

Still working diligently at his task, Logan unzips his pants.

"What are you--"

"Relax. Just makin' a little room. Things are gettin' pretty snug in there."

Hank groans some more, trying to catch his breath. "Perhaps a little faster. . ."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Yes."

There is much heavy breathing and panting.

"I believe--I believe--uh!"

"You believe what?"

"Ah! Don't stop! Don't stop!"

"You're gonna get your fur all messy."

More panting, mixed with some grunts. "That's quite all right. Logan, please. . ."

"Hmmm. . . maybe if I do this. . ."

"Oh! Oh my word! Oh. . oh. . .yes yes yes yes. . ." The groaning now reaches its highest and loudest pitch.

Casually, a lightly, dark-haired back of a hand comes to a vindictively grinning mouth and wipes across. "There. No mess."

"Oh my goodness."

Logan sits up-- "Gonna take these boots off." --pauses at a touch. "Hey, what are you doin'?"

The doctor, now with his bearings in the sexual waters, gives a mischievous grin. "Surely you would not deny me my chance to explore?"

Logan grins from ear to ear. "Hang on a sec." He stands up like a kid excited for Christmas; the sound of jeans sliding down skin and crumpling to the floor and--



"Yes. May I?"

"Knock yourself out."

"I fear I will if I am not careful."

"Flatterer. Ahhh. . ."

"Please do not hesitate to tell me what you like."

"That's nice so far."

"I think I would like to. . ."

Head back, mouth open, deep moans. "Yeah. Keep goin'. That's right, swirl your tongue around the head a little. . .unh. . ."

Mixed with slurping sounds of the inexperienced but eager.

Breathless and hot. "Can you take a little more?" Louder groans, now. "Yeah, that's right. Keep goin'." Turning into sighs and a slightly higher pitch in the breath. "You know, you're pretty good for a beginner. Ow! The fangs! Watch the fangs!"

There's muffled laughter from below.

Thinks. "You know, maybe you could do that again. . .just not so hard this time. Felt kinda good for a second there--ah! Fuck. Yeah. Yeah."

The slurping resounds with renewed force.

"Wait, wait. Hold on." Breathless.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yeah. If I don't get back on the bed, I'm gonna fall down. Hang on a sec." One strong hand searches through the crumpled jeans.

A tube is tossed to the bed and lands with a quiet 'phwup'.

The doctor looks up and swallows nervously. "And, ah, may I ask what you intend to do with *that*?"

A trademarked evil grin meets the look. "You're the doc, you figure it out."

"Per-perhaps we should discuss this first, analyze the logistics of the situation, attempt to come to a reasonable compromise. . ."

"Quit tryin' to talk your way out of this."

A pause, one finger to blue lips, in thought. A sigh of resignation. "I suppose physical resistance is futile."

"Relax, Blue. I'll make sure you enjoy this."

A click as the cap flips open.

Last minute bargaining. "This is all rather sudden. The oral play has been quite enjoyable, I admit, but I'm not sure I'm ready to--"

"How 'bout you let me, and we'll call it even for all those years you played Dr. Jellyfinger on me during team physicals?"

"A finger, Logan. *One finger*."

"Your fingers are pretty big."

"Not nearly as big as--"

"Turn over."

"Couldn't we--"

"Hank, you can talk all you want, but my nose don't believe ya. Turn. Over."

The large frame of the man rustles the larger frame of the bed, stark white bed covers are contrasted with indigo fur. Face down. Nervous. "Very well. But please remember how considerate I was during the aforementioned physicals."

There's a chuckle from the wolverine. "Oh, I remember all right."

"Oh dear." This does not bode well for the doctor.


A quick inhalation of breath. "Oh, it's cold. . .oh! Oh. That's- that's. . .rather enjoyable."


"Yes. I--ah! That's--that's even better."

"That's one finger."

Mild shock passes through Hank's features. "Only one? Really? But--"

"Uh huh. Now two."


"Relax." Squishy sounds. Fingers sliding. "That's better."

After some maneuvering and a lot of grunting and gasping and gripping of bed covers--

An amused smirk crosses the dark man's face. "You seem to be enjoyin' yourself."

"Quite so."

The cap flips open once more with a sharp snap.

"Time for the real deal. Up on your knees." Goo-filled fist meets standing flesh.


Ready. Aim. "Here we go."

More adjusting followed by deeper sighing and harder grunting.

"Christ, Hank, if you don't relax a little we're never gonna get anywhere here."

Frustration, filled with desperation. "I'm doing my best."

Take two. "Mmph. Damn."

"Perhaps more lubricant is in order?"

"If I put any more lube on myself I'm gonna float away."

"On me, then?"

"Ain't much left, but I'll give it a shot."

Slick noises of skin and cool liquid and fingers and tightness.

"Mmmm. . ."

"There you go. Nice and relaxed. . .nice and easy. . .unh."


"You okay?"

"Yes, yes. And finally, some progress." Proudly.

A quiet, examining pause. "Well, the head's almost in."


"Uh huh."

"I'm beginning to suspect this endeavor may prove impossible."

"Nah. You just gotta quit tensin' up so much. But we can stop if you wanna."

"On the one hand, this does seem futile. But on the other hand, I was looking forward to--"



"What's 438 multiplied by 261?"

Hank's brow furrows in concentration and puzzlement. "Um, okay. Yes, let's see. . .eight. . .four. . .carry the one. . .I believe it's one hundred fourteen thousand, three hundred and--sweet Jesus!" The calculation ends in a crescendo.

"Unh! Yessss." A triumphant sigh.

"Good holy God."

Suddenly, Logan comes close to a whimper. "Hank, d'ya think you could unclench just a little bit? Before you snap my dick off?"

"Sorry. Sorry. You startled me. I was not expecting--"

"That was the idea."

A concerted effort is made. "Is that better?"

"Yeah. Everything okay with you?"

"Oddly, yes. In fact, I would venture to say things are more than okay."

A slow slide. "How 'bout now?"

A long, loud moan. "Definitely more than okay. Superlative, actually."

"Me too."


"God, that's good. So fucking good."

"Perhaps--perhaps you could move a little faster?"

"Like this?"

"Yes. Yes. Ah, that's wonderful. Don't stop."

Deep panting and halting speech. "I won't. Feels too damn good."

"Yes yes yes. . .oh my God."

"Unh! You like that? You like it like this, Hank?"

"Yes. Oh! Can you do that again? Ah! You're so deep. That's--oh God. That's perfect. Perfect."

"Here, let me. . ." A hand goes searching.

The hand finds. "Yes, oh yes."

Stroking. "Shit, Hank, you could pound nails with this thing." Stroking more.

"Faster. Your hand. . .faster."

"I'm gettin' close. Gettin' real close."

"Yes, yes. Close. So close." Seldom has he used such small words in such short sentences.

"Ready, Hank? You ready? You ready?" Gritting teeth and pistoning hips.

"Yes. Now. Ready now."

"Hang on."


"Oh fuck oh fuck gonna come gonna come gonna come oh fuck. . ." Both are growling and the bed is shaking and the room smells like sweat and men. Lots of sex, and very big men.

At first their ears pick out only the sounds of breathing and lust and desire and heat, spent in groaning and panting excitement of a climax.

There's a slight shudder as the bodies collapse and separate, and then a comfortable silence they catch their breath.

Hank turns his head to the man beside him. "So. We did it."

Huge grin and a nod. "Uh huh." The grin becomes a smirk. "Still think you don't wanna?"

Well. . . "I'm open to reconsidering my stand on that particular topic."

A hearty laugh. "Good to hear."

The End

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