[By :The Fanatic Fanboy (Island_Boy) on AO3 ]
Logan awoke to a splitting headache of such intensity that all other sensations, but pain, were obliterated from his consciousness. It was only the knowledge his adamantium infused bones were unbreakable that assured him his brain wasn't leaking out of his cranium. Such was the agony he endured. As he slowly adapted to the excruciating experience, his vision cleared and he could make out the patterned ceiling of his room.
His room? How did he end up in his room? The last thing he remembered...he was in the Danger Room blowing off some steam as he often did whenever things were quiet and there weren't any bad guys to work out his frustration on. And then...darkness engulfed him just as the Sentinel Alpha program began to load. He turned to the clock/radio on the end table to check the time and that was then he saw it.
Namely, the strap that held his right arm bound to the poster of his bed. Glancing to his left he realized that both his arms were indeed tied. A quick look downwards demonstrated that so too were his legs...as well as the fact that he wore nothing by way of underwear. His cock and balls nested in his ample pubic hair were fully exposed to the somewhat chilly air.
"Whaaa da...fu..." was all Logan could get out through his wooziness. He was tied to the bed and virtually immobilized. Furthermore, he was naked! Sure, he slept in the nude. But if he had an accident in the Danger Room and was brought to his room by his teammates to recuperate – why would they strip him naked?
The sound of soft male laughter jolted Logan out of his thoughts. He turned swiftly to the direction of the sound (regretting it as his head lanced) and saw in the far corner of the room a seated Scott Summers. His form was obscured by shadow but Logan was certain it was him. The ruby glow around the figure's head gave him away.
"Sure took you long enough to wake up, sleeping beauty," Scott said airily and dropped Logan's copy of Sun Tzu's Art of War which he had been reading. "Considering your healing factor and all."
Logan growled low in his throat. They'd been sparring and butting heads more and more of late. Ever since Xavier left for Muir Island to be with his son and foolishly (to Logan's way of thinking) left them both as co-heads of the institute. To make matters worse, since Jean's death there was no one in the mansion who had the guts or capability to mediate between the two men. Well...there was Ororo but she didn't have the desire to. Whatever one man ordered, be it in training or on the field, the other could be relied upon nine times out of ten to countermand it.
"Summers!" Logan all but shouted, sobered by the anger coursing through him. "What the hell is the meaning of this shit?!"
Scott slowly got to his feet and walked towards the bed in a leisurely pace. The smirk on his face did nothing to pacify Logan and served only to incense him further.
"When I get outta these I'm gonna tear you apart!" Logan swore, writhing in vain to escape the straps that bound him.
Scott actually laughed in mockery of the threat. "Don't bother struggling, Logan. Those straps are made of a new polymer that Hank's been working on. They look weak and flimsy but they will hold anyone short of Colossus and the Juggernaut."
Never one to just give up Logan merely intensified his struggles. A deep frown suddenly came over Scott's face. In stark contrast to the jovial tone he'd been using thus far, his voice became cold and hard. "I said stop struggling, you dumb fuck."
Logan immediately stilled. It was certainly not due to fear. The reason was twofold. The first was the tone Scott used. Any lesser man would have his blood curdled by it. The second was the fact that Summers swore. Something Logan NEVER heard him do before. Not even at the height of Scott's tantrums in the first few months after Jeannie had died.
