Jean felt like a piece of furniture. What had been a good time with her teammates and friends in the early evening turned into pairing off, and Jean was the only one without someone to snuggle into and flirt with. When she finally couldn't stand any more five minutes before midnight, she got up from the couch and left the room, her fourth glass of champagne dangling from her fingertips.
"Goin' ta bed already? It's not midnight," Logan lounged on the stairs, beer in hand.
"I'm tired."
"Sit."
She hesitated only a second before squeezing in next to him. How their relationship could fluctuate between teammates, friends, and intense attraction, and something akin to hate in the blink of an eye was beyond Jean's logical thinking. Some days they could talk and laugh like there was nothing between them, others they couldn't be in the same room alone because God knows if they'd kiss or argue loud enough to shake the mansion's foundation.
"How ya been."
"You've never been one for idle chat," she remarked with amusement.
"I'm idle; take it while I'm offering."
"Not bad, how about you?"
"Gettin' by," he took a swig of beer.
"Why are you on the stairs?"
"Felt like it," he shrugged.
"You can join us, you know," she elbowed him with a smile on her lips.
"I'm better alone."
"You asked me to sit," she replied.
"You were leavin' the party."
"I told you I was tired."
"Yer a bad liar," he smirked.
"I'd rather let this pass quietly."
"Why," he looked at her from the corner of his eye.
Jean took a sip of her champagne. "It's silly."
"Don't care what's silly."
"I have no one to kiss."
"Ah hell Jean, I'll kiss ya," he chuckled.
Ten...nine...eight...seven...six... Their teammates chanted down the last ten seconds of the year. Logan put his arm around her back, prompting her to lean into his side, resting her arm on his muscled leg.
FIVE...FOUR...THREE...TWO...ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Their lips touched briefly, the hints of alcohol on their tongues mingled as their mouths met again, slightly open and searching.
"Wow," she whispered.
Logan brushed his nose against hers, pressing his mouth against hers a third time. "Stairs ain't a very comfortable place for kissin'."
"So let's go somewhere else."
They stood up, walking upstairs to his room. Leaving their drinks on the desk, Logan sat on his bed and pulled her onto his lap. He growled contentedly at the sweetness of her mouth and the sensation of her fingers tracing the hard muscles of his back, lavishing attention on her throat with slow kisses.
"Fireworks," she groaned lightly.
"Wha-" he asked, his face buried in the crook of her neck.
"Jubliee is settin' off fireworks," she laughed, motioning toward the window.
He lay back, tilting his head just as bright green and purple sparks flew across the sky.
"Huh-oh shit," his amused laugh became a startled groan when Jean took advantage and bit his exposed throat.
"Say what," she smiled.
He growled low in his throat, abruptly pushing her off his chest.
"Aww, don't be mad-mmmmph," her teasing was muffled as his mouth came down on hers hard.
She hadn't made out with anyone since she was a teenager, the kind where you're so out of your mind for someone that you're nearly fighting them, trying to get so much closer than it seems possible or proper. Her heart thudded happily as she realized what that frantic feeling was in her stomach, Logan's solid hands trapped her against his broad chest.
Laying on your side wasn't the most comfortable position, but Logan fixed that by slipping his bicep under her neck, and she wrapped a long leg around his hip as he trailed his large hand, all strength and long fingers along her thigh, pressing into the firm flesh of her ass under her clothes. Jerking toward him with a surprised groan, she dug her heel into his thigh, causing him to shift partially on top of her.
When they finally came up for air, they were sufficently sweaty and panting.
"Damn," he grinned.
"How long have we been doing this," she struggled onto her elbow to look over him at the alarm clock. "Three hours," she exclaimed, falling limply on his shoulder.
He laughed huskily as she turned to look at him, her swollen lips were turned up in a grin. "Little break?"
She nodded gratefully, and Logan shifted pillows around to get comfortable, watching her with a smirk and heavy-lidded sleepy eyes.
"Whatcha doin'?"
She unclasped her bra, taking it out from under her shirt.
"Didja have to do that," he groaned, she only laughed and returned her head to the center of his chest.
"You could take a little more off," she snuck her hand under his shirt, teasing his skin with gentle touches.
"My shirt, your pants," he grinned.
"My pants are worth your shirt and your jeans."
"Your pants, my shirt, your shirt, my pants."
"We'll be practically naked," she looked at him incredulously.
"That's the idea," he laughed.
She hesitated before removing her black pants, and Logan's grin faded a little. He didn't want to make her do something she didn't want to. "You don't have to, keep your shirt on."
She rolled her eyes and stripped her shirt off, grinning widely before tossing it in his face.
"Okay," he pulled the shirt from his head, tossing it aside before taking off his clothes.
For as many times that she saw Logan without a shirt on, she was unprepared seeing his fully naked body. She looked him over carefully, tracing the cut muscles with her eyes all the way down...looking for everything like a total wide-eyed virgin. She had only seen two men naked before Logan, and they were absolutely nothing like him.
"I can put something on," he couldn't help his amused tone at her helpless expression.
"Don't bother," she shook her head and lay down, wearing only a pair of green bikini underwear.
She knew he wasn't the affectionate type, but he gladly formed his body to hers as he covered them both with the bed comforter, burying his face in her neck.
"Tickles," she laughed, squirming so his facial hair scratched over her skin again. "Feels good."
"That champagne kickin' in for ya," he chuckled.
"Oh yeah," she muttered, sighing with contentment.
Logan breathed a heavy sigh of his own, kissing Jean on the neck as her eyes drifted closed. "Goodnight."

Jean groaned as she woke up with a hangover, throwing an arm over her head.
"Morning Jean," Logan mumbled.
"Ohno, shush, quiet..." she whimpered, pressing her fingers to his lips.
"Had too much," he whispered.
"Yes," she covered her head with the comforter.
"Want something for it," he rubbed her back with his fingertips.
"You'd do that for me," her muffled voice croaked under the blanket.
"Sure, be right back," he got out of bed, pulling on his jeans.
A green eye peeked out from under the comforter when he returned minutes later with a large glass in hand.
"Don't ask what it is, just drink it."
She sat up, holding the comforter to her bare chest as she gulped down the thick liquid.
"It's only bananas and honey," she replied with surprise.
"Nothing gross, just wanted you to drink it without complaining," he smiled, taking the glass from her hand.
She sank down into the bed with a grateful smile. "Thank you."
He undressed again and got into bed next to her, brushing the hair out of her face.
"I look like crap."
"No, you just feel like it. Let it coat your stomach, you'll feel better."
"I'm sorry, this isn't exactly the kind of New Year's morning you were hoping for," she smiled sheepishly.
"Nearly naked, hungover redhead in my bed, needing me to take care of her? My best New Year's so far."