On The Tip Of My Tongue

Title: On The Tip Of My Tongue
Fandom: Leverage & X-Men
Characters/Pairings: Eliot Spencer/Logan/Wolverine
Rating: PG-15
Word Count: 1,005
Summary: Comment-fic prompt: Wolvering/Mutant Eliot … Taste

Logan stood on the balcony of his hotel looking out over Los Angeles. The Wolverine hated large cities. The smells, sounds and lights were a constant irritation to his heightened senses, but today there’s an extra something on the wind that was making him twitch … Something he can’t quite get a grip on to identify who or what was the cause.

Xavier had sent him to look for an unknown mutant that showed up several times while the telepath was connected to Cerebro. The closest he could pinpoint the mutant was the old section of downtown Los Angeles.

Finding an unknown mutant in a city of millions tickled Logan’s sense of the ludicrous. He didn’t argue because it was the perfect excuse for him to get away from the school for a few days … Especially since a certain Cajun thief was beginning to steal his way under the barriers Logan kept around his emotions.

~~>>>~~

Deciding the best way to find a needle in a haystack was with a match, Logan pocketed his room key and with a roar of his Harley headed for downtown where Chuck had last ‘seen’ the mutant. Several hours later, he was still searching, but his stomach demanded food. Wonderful smells from a nearby food truck made his taste buds dance. Armed with enough food for two, Logan settled in a small park near twin brick buildings. That elusive scent that bothered him at the hotel was stronger here. It was both calming and invigorating at the same time. Logan’s nose picked up a scent of high mountain pine woods, leaving the taste of sage and cedar on his tongue.

“Some reason you’re winding me like a hound on the hunt.” A growl came from behind Logan. The X-Man whirled to face the unknown mutant fighting the instinct to extend his claws. No one ever came up on him unaware.

“Name’s Logan.” Logan sized up the man in front of him. He was centered, his body ready to move, his blue/grey eyes were calm. “Ever heard of Charles Xavier or the Salem Institute?” Logan asked.

“Yeah.”

Eliot Spencer was very familiar with the man in front of him, if only by reputation. He made it his business to know who’s who in the mutant world, and if they were anywhere near his family.

“You popped up on Chuck’s radar so he sent me out here to find you.” Logan stuck his ever present cigar in his mouth.

“Don’t need to be found.” Eliot glared hotly at the shorter man.

Logan fully opened all his senses, curious to see if this man was what had been tickling his nose all day. His sight took in the rugged beauty, the compact muscular body built for speed and strength, movements fluid and graceful. No fidgeting … No tells. Hearing told him the man was relaxed even though he was alone with a very powerful mutant. His heartbeat was calm, there was a stillness emanating from him that tempted the feral chaos of the Wolverine.

But smell … That was a smorgasbord for his nose and tongue. The breeze carried the cool scents of snowy mountains. Underlying that was an alluring musk. The hair on the back of his neck rose. The Wolverine recognized the scent … Wolf. The Wolverine bared his teeth, mimicking a smile, but when Logan rolled the combined scents across his tongue his body tightened not for battle, but with lust for the unknown mutant. Stomping hard on his libido, he got back to business.

“Gotta check these things out to make sure you’re not a danger to yourself or anyone else.” Logan tried to sound reasonable.

“Nothin’ to check out. I’m not in anyone’s mutant database or on anyone’s radar, and it’s going to stay that way. I’m only a danger to people that piss me off, so you can haul ass back wherever you came from and forget my face.” Eliot snarled.

With that parting shot, he disappeared into the crowd.

~~>>>~~

Logan checked every bar in the area that fit the man’s clothing. His search was fruitless. The dark haired man’s scent trail disappeared like it never existed. *Neat trick.* Logan thought. With a mental sigh, Logan settled in the corner of the last bar on the block. Tracking was thirsty work so he decided to have a cold one before heading back to his hotel. No one had made him work this hard for anything in a long time. The Wolverine prowled the back of his mind in anticipation of running his quarry to ground. Like his namesake, tenacity was his number one talent and flaw. Sunlight shattered the darkened bar as the door opened and closed. The outside air carried the scent that tickled his nose in the park. Looked like Lady Luck was his bitch today.

“You ain’t gone yet?” A smirk accompanied the growled question.

“I’m not one to forget things. Also not much on leaving things hanging … Tends to come back and bite me in the ass.”

“You eat?” The younger man asked.

“Not since the park.”

“I know a place … Rare steak … Cold beer …”

“Your place?”

Logan’s hope rose. At least he’d have an address even if it only made it as far as his mental Rolodex.

“For now.”

He gave Logan an assessing look then stuck out his hand.

“Spence.”

“First or last?”

“Is Logan first or last?”

“Point.”

~~>>>~~

Spence hadn’t lied. The steak and beer were perfect. The company was a feast for his senses, and stimulated his body and mind. When their eyes finally closed in sleep, both the wolf and The Wolverine were as sated as Logan and Spence. Logan’s sleep was broken when arms circled him from behind, and a chin came to rest on his shoulder.

“Leaving?” Logan asked quietly.

“Got nowhere to be.”

Lips and teeth nibbled across the nape of Logan’s neck. Senses replete from a five star breakfast, Logan didn’t know anymore about Spence now than he did last night. There was only a single name, and the sex left him relaxed like he hadn’t been since forever. The Wolverine didn’t care why Spence smelled like Wolf, or could seemingly hide from electronic or organic surveillance … The only thing he cared about as Spence pulled him back to the rumpled bed … Was getting another taste.

~ Fini ~