A Toad and a Wolverine Walk into a Bar Again
This is Rose's fault. She said "sequel."
And this story requires more suspension of disbelief than its predecessor.
Toad and Wolverine share their forbidden love with a Japanese magazine. Click on the picture to see the original, unedited shot. From Ray Park Web.
Logan popped his claws and waited for the signal from Jean. What the fuck were the Brotherhood doing raiding a genetics laboratory? Well, whatever. So long as he got to pound on Sabretooth, he was happy.
There was the signal.
He rounded the corner and nearly crashed into Toad, who was balancing a tray of test tubes. "Hey, hang on," Toad said, putting the tray down. "Thought you might be here." He reached into the satchel he had slung over his shoulder and pulled out a plastic bag. "Cleaned your trousers for you."
"Oh, thanks bub," Logan said, peering into the bag. Yep, those were his pants all right. He set the bag down on a counter and said, "Well, I'm supposed to be stopping you."
"Yeah, figured as such. Uh...Sabretooth's one floor up."
"Thanks. How 'bout I send Scott in here?"
Toad shrugged and picked up the tray again. "Sure, mate. Catch you later, then?"
"Well, that was a disaster," Scott said, sliding into the pilot's seat. Logan tried not to smirk too obviously at the boot-prints all over Scott's uniform.
"And what the hell is in that bag?" Ororo asked.
Logan stuffed it under his seat. "Nothing."
Jean strapped herself in and asked, "Did anyone smell strawberries when we were there? I love strawberries. Too bad you're allergic to them, Scott."
"So how the hell did they manage to get away?" Scott asked.
"Well, we couldn't find Mystique," Ororo said. "Logan did well keeping Sabretooth down, but it looks like Toad managed to do a number on you, Scott."
Logan couldn't help himself. A smug grin stretched across his face.
Jean shuddered. "He's such a disgusting little creature."
"Hey, he's just a mutant like the rest of us," Logan said, suddenly feeling defensive. "Can't help how he looks."
"I know, I should be more charitable, but I can't help it!" Jean said. "He's just so gross."
"He could have hidden talents, you know."
Scott and Ororo turned back and shot incredulous looks at him.
Logan just shrugged and tried not to blush. "Twelve-foot tongue. Think about it."
"You have a sick mind," Ororo said, turning back around.
"I wonder what it was that smelled like strawberries," Jean mused as they took off.
"Mmm. Yeah. No, other left."
Rogue lifted her head from the pillow and leaned closer to the air duct.
"Oh yeah. Mmm. Harder."
What the hell was Logan dreaming about? She looked over at the next bunk, and saw one of her roommates looking up with obvious interest.
"Oh yeah! Lick me there! Oh god!"
Rogue felt herself turning red from head to toe. Okay, she knew what Logan was dreaming about. And she knew she'd be damned if she'd let him embarrass himself like this. All her roommates were crowding around the air duct, and it looked like one of them had a tape recorder. The groaning started getting louder, so she swung herself down to the floor, grabbed a broom, and headed out the door. "Spoilsport," someone grumbled as she left.
Right, she wasn't having a repeat of last time. "Logan?" she asked, poking him with the broom handle from a safe distance. "Logan, wake up."
He shifted in his sleep, and she wasn't so sure she liked the way he was gripping the broom handle. And she really didn't want to know if that bulge under the covers was what she thought it was.
"Come on, Logan. Wake up. Free show's over." She yanked the broom from his hand, turned it around, and started poking him with the bristles.
"Geez bub, would it hurt you to shave?" he mumbled before snapping his eyes open. "Uh...Rogue? What are you doing in here?"
"You were talking in your sleep."
He heard applause, and looked past Rogue to see a gaggle of teenaged girls giving him an ovation. With a groan, he put a pillow over his face and yelled, "Out!"
"You heard him," Rogue said, brandishing her broom. "Everybody out!"
As she headed for the door, she turned around and asked, "Shave?"
Logan popped his claws out and waited for the signal from Scott. What the fuck were the Brotherhood doing raiding an art gallery? He sniffed the air. Yeah, Sabretooth was here. Now if he could just manage to get through this without seeing Toad...
He looked up, and saw Toad staring down at him sheepishly from the ceiling, a painting slung across his back. "Bollocks," he whispered.
Logan could feel himself starting to sweat under his leather suit. Shit.
Toad held one hand out like a claw and made a "grr" face, then pointed over one room.
Logan nodded, then made "zot" fingers and pointed up the stairs.
The two men moved off in opposite directions to face other opponents.
"Well, the good news is that they didn't steal any art," Jean said as she fastened her seat harness.
"Yes, but the bad news is that Ororo burned a hole through a priceless Van Gogh," Scott countered, starting up the jet.
Ororo had the decency to blush. "He looked like he was going to whip that disgusting tongue of his out at me or something."
"What makes you think it's disgusting?" Logan asked without thinking.
Two sets of eyes and one visor turned to look at him.
Trying not to blush, he shrugged and said, "Hey, I mean, you never know."
Jean grinned evilly and asked, "Does this have anything to do with a tape I confiscated in class yesterday?"
He swallowed hard. "Tape?"
"Some of the girls caught you talking in your sleep."
"Must'a been having a nightmare or something," he groused, squirming in his seat. Damned leather!
"Didn't sound like a nightmare to me," she countered.
"Let's not lose sight of the fact that a painting was destroyed," Scott said. "The professor's not going to be happy about this."
Saved by the boy scout. Logan had never been quite so happy to hear Scott getting on his high horse before.
Logan carefully closed and blocked off the air duct before going to bed.
He'd thought about sleeping in his truck instead, but the damned thing still smelled like strawberry hand lotion. He'd tried giving some to Jean in the desperate hope that maybe if she smelled like it, it would change the association in his head. But she said that Scott hated the smell, what with his allergy and all, so she couldn't wear it. "I appreciate the thought, though," she said with one of those condescending smiles.
"Appreciate the thought, my ass," Logan grumbled as he glared across the room at the bottle.
No, no matter what his perverted mind was suggesting, he sure as hell wasn't going to grease his hand up with lotion and jack off.
He was feeling a little dry, though, so it couldn't hurt to put some on.
Whoops. Too much.
Okay, think of Jean. Yeah, that's the ticket. Think of Jean sticking to the wall...
No, Jean doesn't stick to the wall. Think of Jean in her lab coat. Yeah, and those sexy glasses. She's got her tongue wrapped around your...
Okay, right, her tongue doesn't do that. She's wearing her lab coat, her glasses, high heels, and nothing else. And she's leaning over you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, like, "Cor, I'm bladdered..."
Ah damn. That did it.
Logan felt something drip on his head, blinked, and looked up. He'd hit the ceiling?
Something had to be done about this.
Logan pulled up to the bar and sighed as he saw the Pinto sitting in the lot. Right. Time to get this over with. He headed in the door, and slid onto the barstool two over from Toad. "Well, that backfired," he said, pointedly looking forward. The bartender wordlessly put a beer in front of each of them.
"Tell me about it," Toad said with a sigh, then took a sip of beer.
"They caught me talking in my sleep."
"Mystique caught me licking me pillow."
"Jean still won't give me the time of day."
"Mystique thinks I'm even more of a perv."
They drained their glasses in silence.
Logan turned to Toad and asked, "So, are we doing it again or what?"
Toad paused, then said, "Lemme get a few more beers in me first."
Mystique's computer started beeping. Oh good, someone was in the back of Wolverine's truck. She'd slathered herself in Toad's stinky hand lotion to mask her scent and planted a camera in there a few days ago. Something about the way Toad had been defending Wolverine this past week had her suspicious. Besides, when a man comes home in someone else's pants, it makes you wonder.
Well, it made her wonder.
"Oh my god," she murmured, leaning closer to the monitor, biting the tip of her finger, as she studied the action on screen.
Maybe she'd misjudged Toad. The things he was doing with his tongue made her squirm in her seat. And that flexibility...he was doing things that were anatomically impossible for a normal human. They shouldn't have been able to kiss in that position, but somehow, Toad managed. And besides, she'd always been a sucker for hot boy on boy action. She'd definitely be keeping this recording for future viewing.
Toad. Who knew?
Sigh. Too bad he was gay.
Jean had been worried about Logan lately. He just hadn't seemed himself, and then there was that tape the girls had of him. She was really concerned that perhaps someone was coercing him into doing something that he didn't want to do. So to try and help out, she'd installed a little video camera in his truck.
Her wristwatch beeped to let her know that it was picking something up.
Sliding in front of her lab computer, she turned the monitor on and called up the surveillance camera.
He sure as hell didn't look like he was being coerced. But Toad? How could he be doing that willingly? And then she caught the tongue action and it suddenly made sense. But what was Toad getting out of this? She looked closer, then squealed, "Ohmygod he's hung!"
Clapping her hand over her mouth, she looked around the lab guiltily to make sure she was really alone. Whew.
Poor Logan, coming on to her to hide his true preferences. She'd keep this her little secret.
But she'd keep watching, just to make sure there was no coercion involved.
Toad reached for the whiskey bottle, took another slug, then said, "Okay, my turn to take it up the arse."
"We're outta lube," Logan said, shaking the empty bottle of Astro Glide.
"What are you on about?" Toad said. "Check me jacket pocket."
Logan dug through the pockets until he pulled out a familiar bottle and cackled. "Good old strawberry."
"Startin' to get sick of that smell, though," Toad said. "Thinkin' of switchin' to raspberry."
Logan grabbed the bottle of whiskey, belted back a gulp, then blinked hard and said, "Okay, which one of you wants it?"
"There's just the one of me, mate."
"Oh yeah. Hold still."
"Lemme just wrap me legs around your head for balance."
Logan closed one eye and said, "Here goes."
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