A/n: A little silliness because we don't often get any. Rated M for sexy times and language. All mistakes are my own as I do not have a beta- both fish and otherwise.
He doesn't notice when his barely there wet suit didn't quite sit the way it normally does. And he most definitely does not notice when Veronica claws her way into his clothing. He supposes that he might have possibly noticed the waning glances at the beach but he is so skilled at the art of avoiding admiring female glances, that it seems like he just never really had a chance.
The moment of epiphany arrives on a Wednesday night, a routine of zombies, guns and pizza when Dick practically screeches, "dude!"
Logan's hand stills atop the cheesy crust and he raises one practiced eyebrow at his friend.
"I understand you want to be all domestic and shit with Ronnie around. But seriously, your sex life has gone from voracious to healthy to non existent."
"Dick…" The blond man doesn't always make the most straightforward or logical of points- a fact that is well known amongst most 09ers.
But Dick holds up his hand, "hear me out. You don't have the sex life or the genes that the Dickmeister does, so do you think maybe, just maybe you could go easy on the 'za?"
There aren't too many moments where Logan has been rendered speechless. In fact he prides himself on being able to crush any smart aleck comment in the most of dire of situations but even he has to admit, he had met his match. "Are you calling me fat?" He asks, almost hesitantly.
Dick winces at the f-word. "Ronnie owes me big," he mumbles before catching Logan's expression that lay somewhere between pain and disbelief. "It's nothing serious. But you've kinda sorta….beengoingsoft?" The words rush out.
"Soft?" Logan mouths.
"Not much. I mean…fuck. You know what? Fuck it…let's just finish this pie and never ever talk about this again. Bro code."
The hot cheese dribbles onto a messy paper plate and Logan feels his appetite dissipate. He immediately runs a palm through the middle of his stomach, scrambling for purchase. And there it is. A very definite handful of pudge.
Logan walks into the home that he now shares with Veronica lost in his thoughts as he's greeted by a cheerful yet suspiciously saccharine voice. "Honey! You're late!"
Their normal routine is to banter back and forth before somehow finding themselves naked on one of the many surfaces of their home. Today unfortunately, he's just not in the mood to do much but wallow.
"Yoohoo!" Veronica tries again, practically jumping to wrap her arms and legs around him.
He kisses her half- heartedly (something that never ever happens) before setting her down. "Sorry, rough day."
"Aww. You lost to Dick?" She fakes sympathy and normally he would make her pay for that remark. Today, he merely shrugs and walks away, praying she doesn't press on.
But praying doesn't always work, and Veronica being Veronica is up in his face before he can enter the bedroom. For a brief second it looks like she wants to either strangle him or continue this conversation (both of which were undesirable) but instead changes her mind. " I left something for you in the oven."
"I'm not really hungry," he counters.
"You don't have to eat it. I just want you to look at it," her impatience shows in her voice and her hands are inching towards her hips. Uh oh. This isn't good.
He really doesn't have the energy to fight so he walks around her and into the kitchen. Logan hopes it isn't something like chocolate cake because well chocolate and cake are both irresistible by themselves but put them together, and oh god! He really doesn't think he has the willpower to…
It's a piece of bread.
"It's a piece of bread," he repeats stupidly being Captain Obvious.
"In the oven…" she completes looking at him expectantly.
He closes the door and walks back into the bedroom. She's still staring at him like he's the one who's lost his mind and stuck an old piece of bread in the oven. But whatever; he has other things to worry about.
There haven't been too many times when they've been so painfully awkward around each other. Well maybe a few, fine, several; but not recently. So it's a little odd that they're lying next to each other with the nightlight on, untouching.
They've never been on this bed without some kind of touching. Never. Ever.
"DoyouthinkImfat?" The question comes out as a tumble of words before Logan can stop himself.
Veronica grins and he's too distracted to notice how beautiful she looks in the soft light, "of course not sweetie. Those jeans do not make your ass look fat." She peels into a fit of giggles and Logan huffs turning to face away from her.
"Fuck you,"
"Hey sugarlips?" Veronica whispers running a hand through his cropped hair. She snuggles into the small of his back, drawing circles on his bare skin and as he continues to sulk, or keeps up the pretense of sulking. He silently curses himself for sleeping in his boxers, but pudge or no pudge, he isn't about to start sleeping in grandpa pajamas. He feels his resolve nose-diving even before her nails scratched the pebbly surface of his nipples.
"You're not fat. You're…sexy." She pauses, pressing a kiss to his spine. Well this is new. Her hand snakes around to rest on the slightest of curves that is his stomach. "A little too sexy if you ask me." Logan inhales deeply refusing to give Veronica the satisfaction of seeing him moan. Her hand trails lower and his body reacts like it always has. The traitor. He wants her to touch him. Needs her to touch him.
But her hand ignores the portion of him that is so painfully obvious choosing instead to cup his balls. She absentmindedly swipes her thumb across the wrinkly flesh when he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from screaming out. This was his job. He initiated the seduction. The touching. Not her. And right now he can't think of anything but…
He isn't going to give her the satisfaction of distracting him that easily.
He focuses on the important stuff. It isn't that he's been skipping the gym- if anything he's been a tad more religious about the workouts since they eat junk all the time. Junk all the time. Veronica. If she didn't live there, he probably would eat much healthier. He partially turns to tell her no more Italian when he notices her sliding down the bed. Fuck.
He knows when he's in trouble.
His thoughts disperse to meaningless blobs as he feels her teeth nibbling on the inner side of his thighs but it's when her mouth envelopes his cock whole that he loses what little brain function he had left.
All he can feel is heat- the gentle suction of her lips and his hips buck. She holds up him down firmly with one hand, and he can't move quite like he wants to.
He needs to move. He needs to…he needs more. He whimpers and her tongue licks across the slit in reward for his good behavior. Logan's hands curl around the strands of her hair and he mumbles incoherently beseeching her to join him. Her teeth lightly graze up and down the hardened flesh, and her tongue…
Veronica. Veronica. Veronica. Veronica. Before he realizes it, her name is a chant on his lips and he thinks he's dying until the white light explodes in front of his eyes.
Logan doesn't quite return to Earth until he sees Veronica delicately dabbing the corner of her lips with her t-shirt. "Feel better?" her eyes twinkle and he doesn't have much left in him to do anything but smile back. He wants to return the favor but he really needs to catch his breath and quite possibly regain feeling in his limbs.
He settles for pulling her across his chest. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"I've been around," Veronica answers, reveling in his thinly veined admiration, her hand back to trailing lazy patterns on his chest.
"Stop touching!" He tries to move her hand away but she's adamant in letting it rest on his tummy. "You didn't complain earlier," she speaks into his skin. "Besides it's cute."
"What is?" He asks before realization dawns. He literally shoves her to the opposite side of the bed. "You think I'm fat!"
Veronica sighs as though expecting different. But really the actor genes in him did tend to exaggerate his more dramatic moments. He half expects her to stomp away huffing and puffing but this is a new Veronica. "I," she says, leaning over to carefully pepper her words with kisses, "do. Not. If anything, I thought we put that rumor to rest a few moments ago."
He grins at her because she's right and because well, you can't really be mad at the woman who swallowed your babymakers mere seconds ago. But he isn't known for not being petty so he puts up a half-hearted defense. "It's not cute."
"It is," she stares at him unwaveringly, "particularly if it's growing alongside mine."
"Maybe you should eat a little less too. I don't know how I feel about you gaining all this…"
"Logan."
"Weight?"
"Logan."
Oh.
Ohhh.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier!" He can't believe they just did that and he's been sulking about pointless things while she sat on the news of the century.
"I did, you fool. With the bun. The bun in the oven."
Logan's mouth drops open and he nervously cards a hand through his hair, "bun. In. the. Oven. Cute. I can't believe I didn't get that." He's speechless for the second time today and he hopes this isn't going to be like a thing. He moves towards her because he needs to kiss her, to hold her, to tell her just how happy he is when he notices that she's nervous.
Like she's worried about his reaction.
He pulls her into him smacking his lips onto hers. He suddenly can't stop kissing her as he murmurs his gratitude. She needs to know that he loves her, the baby, and that she didn't have to be nervous, not when…
She interrupts his speech in typical Veronica fashion, always wanting to get the last word in. "Tummies are cute."
They are.
Veronica and Logan. Ruining perfectly romantic moments since the beginning of time.
