Title: Get by with a Little Help

Fandom: Dark Angel Pairing: Alec/Logan

Rating: R

Prompts: dysonrules, the Evil Prompt Goddess, inflicted these upon me: doily, mermaid, what are you doing, violet (which I changed to "violent")

A/N: Takes place sometime after the S2 episode "Gill Girl." Happy birthday to birgitt!! Hope you like this little bit of slashy naughtiness. Thanks to downfall35 for the beta!


"Logan, God," Alec gasped, twisting and writhing underneath Logan. "What are you--" he bit off a moan, and shivered as Logan splayed a large hand across his belly, caressed downward over the rapidly growing bulge in Alec's pants. Alec swallowed, trying to keep what little remained of his wits, and asked hoarsely, "What are you doing?"

Logan smiled. He smelled of brandy and shaving lotion and man. "I heard that you were feeling lonely after that whole adventure with the mermaid. Just trying to help you out." His tease of a voice was smooth and low, accompanied by the tickle of his hair on Alec's neck as he bent his head and pressed hot lips to Alec's throat.

Alec tried to gather the resolve not to enjoy Logan's body pressed against his and squirm away instead. He'd always been a sucker for touching – craved it like mother's milk – and it had felt like forever since he'd had any. "I've, uh, been lonely for a girl, Logan. In case you haven't noticed, you're not a girl." He meant for his voice to sound flippant; failed spectacularly.

Logan chuckled. "Not what you were expecting when I called you, huh?" He began tugging Alec's shirt out of his jeans, his upper body moving sinuously, ripple of muscle and shudder of control, while the heavy mass of his useless legs lay unmoving across Alec's lower body.

"No," Alec admitted with a chuff. He'd thought Logan might be hurt, or in trouble, or at the very least having a fight with Max. Instead, he found the cyber journalist sitting in his wheelchair in his darkened bedroom, drinking brandy as he stared out the huge window at the dim, flickering lights of post-Pulse nighttime Seattle. When he'd come closer Logan surprised him by swiping at the back of his knees, causing them to buckle and dump Alec on his back. Logan then launched himself out of his wheelchair, landing atop Alec, chest to chest - heavy and warm and so wonderfully, awkwardly close.

Then he started kissing Alec – wet, soft, and sensual. Alec's outraged heterosexual instincts (which, he realizes now, were never all that strong to begin with) dissolved under a sensory assault.

"You complaining?" Logan asked.

Alec made a wordless sound in his throat that came out as "Ngh."

Moving faster than Alec expected from a man in his half-drunk, handicapped condition, Logan grabbed Alec's wrists and brought them together over his head, pinning them there with one hand. His movement jostled the nightstand, causing the crystal lamp to topple over. It spilled in one direction and the age-browned doily that had been sitting under it in another direction. With the other hand, he groped at Alec's fly, zipped it down with awkward impatience, and jammed his hand down Alec's briefs, deft fingers closing around Alec's cock.

It felt so surprisingly, sinfully good that Alec bucked his hips up into the touch and let out a moan of ecstasy.

"You transgenics with your cat DNA. Always wanting to be stroked." Logan punctuated his words with an up and down motion of his hand.

Alec's head thumped against the carpeted floor. The feeling of held down and exposed was strangely erotic, as was the sight of the broad planes and valleys of Logan's back. Logan squeezed and twisted his wrist at the tip of Alec's cock. A tide of lust surged up, made him shiver all over and crave more.

"What's gotten into you?" Alec gasped, half afraid that this was some sort of cruel practical joke.

Logan shrugged. "Like I said, just wanted to give a friend a hand."

He started sliding down Alec's body, kissing here and there, unbuttoning Alec's shirt as he moved to reveal more bare skin. When he got to Alec's exposed cock, he paused, breath hot and moist against the straining flesh. "Well, look at this. It looks like you may need a mouth, too."

When he closed his lips around Alec's dick, the world whited out in a haze of sheer pleasure. Alec wasn't sure, later, whether he cried out "yes" or "God" or "don't stop." Whatever it was, Logan got the message loud and clear.

Which was a good thing, because Alec might have had to hurt him if he tried to stop. End

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