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He Will Bring You Misfortune

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“He will bring you misfortune”

That was the last thing the old woman would have said if the blue-skinned boy had not dragged his much shorter companion away from her, using all of his strength to overcome Logan's fury.

“Let's go, come on! I'm hungry!”, he said, panting from the effort.

“Mark my words, boy!”, the woman insisted, unperturbed by the snarling and cursing of the street kid in front of her. “A devil like him will end up dragging you down to Hell with him!”

She pointed a long bony finger towards the blue-skinned boy, who couldn't help but feel his own heart sink at those words. Still, he kept on dragging his friend away until the woman was far from their sight and the other boy was too tired to keep on struggling.

It wasn't that Logan was cruel. Kurt knew that well.

It was just that his temper was as short as his stature and his fists were quicker than his thoughts.

And there was nothing that seemed to anger him more than to see someone pick on his good friend and companion, no matter how much Kurt tried to insist that he didn't mind too much, that he was used to it.

It wasn't like he couldn't understand why people disliked him so much. Even his own mother had surely been horrified by his appearance. That must have been the reason why she abandoned him to a monastery.

Those men of faith had been reluctant to take care of him. It was no surprise, even if it hadn’t been for his dark blue skin, then his glowing yellow eyes, pointed ears and long pointed tail would have been enough to make him look like the child of a demon.

He had overheard more than one conversation about what to do with “that demonic thing” when they thought he wasn't there to listen, which always made him feel ashamed of himself. Still, one of the priests had taken mercy on him. His name was Father Wagner. It was him who had convinced the others to keep him.

Maybe it was because he was blind, but even he had to know what the others told him or feel the shape of his ears when he touched his head. Yet, he never said anything about it. He only told him about the Lord, and how he loved all of His children equally and he should do his best to love others and always be kind.

Unfortunately one day Father Wagner caught a fatal illness, and in just a couple nights he died, shivering from the agonizing fever. Ignoring the man's protests, Kurt had insisted to stay by his side until the end despite the risk of infection. He cried alone as he held the man's hand once he finally was freed from earthly suffering.

It wasn't long before the other priests started to murmur, blaming the young orphan for Wagner's death, whispering that surely the monstrous creature had cast a demonic spell on the poor fool that had tried so hard to take care of that abomination. How cruel of him to repay his kindness like that, they said. He really had to be a devil after all!

Kurt ran away before they could decide what was to be done with him, after all there was nothing left for him there, no one that would care for a monster.

He roamed around like the many other street urchins that littered the town, but even they looked at him with suspicion and fear. They were quick to chase him away with stones and harsh yelling when he tried to get near, and once they realized that he was too scared and weak to fight they started to pick on him.

At that point Kurt believed he would always be alone like that, he would always be unwanted, maybe in fact the world would be better off without someone like him. Maybe he really had planted a curse on his beloved Father Wagner, the man who loved him so much he gave him his own name.

He didn't even have the will to fight back, besides he didn't want to inflict violence upon others even if it was to save himself. He was supposed to have mercy and understand that if the others were cruel to him it was because they feared him and didn't understand him. That was what Father Wagner always told him, and in his heart he knew he was right.

He wished he could also believe he was right when he said they would certainly love him if they were to get to know him and know how kind and innocent his soul really was. But he was certain no one could ever love him.

That was, until he met Logan.

Kurt had no idea of where the other boy came from. He had never seen him around before. He didn't sound like he was from there either.

He had merely walked in one day, saw him getting beaten up by the other kids over a piece of dried fish and started flinging his fists in their faces until they all scrambled and left him alone with a very terrified Kurt.

“Are you ok?!”, the boy quickly asked him, frowning. His lip was split and his knuckles were bloodied, but there was no trace of anger left in his blue eyes. Still, when he held out his hand to help him up to his feet Kurt hesitated to grasp it.

“C'mon, don't be scared! I don't bite!”, the boy insisted, grinning widely. “My name's Logan, nice to meet'cha!”

“I'm... I'm Kurt”, he finally answered, reaching out to grasp his hand only to be pulled up in one swift motion. That boy was really strong!

That was the first thing he realized. The second was...

“You're so short!” he gasped before he could hold himself back. He smacked his hands upon his mouth but it was too late.

Logan glared at him. “I can still kick yer ass you know!”

“I'm sorry... I didn't mean...”. Kurt stammered, blushing from the embarrassment. Which meant his face turned slightly purple.

Much to his surprise, instead of yelling at him or hitting him Logan started laughing.

“You're such a wimp!”, he said, shaking his head. “No wonder those bastards went after ya. Spineless little shits, the whole lot of them! Hope they come back for a second round so I can teach them to pick on someone their size!”

Kurt laughed too, and then he started crying and laughing at the same time, and he couldn't explain to the very perplexed boy in front of him what was going on with him but he just felt so happy all of a sudden.

In that moment he already knew he was no longer going to be alone.



- 25 years later -

“Naw man git tae fuck! A' sweir on me mum yer pal's cursed me cairts!”

The redhead slammed her hands on the table, letting her cards scatter and grumbling as Logan flashed her a full-toothed grin in response.

“You know what that means, Rahne. Next round is on ya!”. Logan waved his hand to catch the attention of the nearest automaton. “Bring a cup of yer finest brew to all of these fellas, will ya?”

“Yes-sir, at-once-sir”, the metallic voice replied as the machine replicated a short bow as gracefully as his antiquated junctions allowed him to before turning around with a whirring sound, hurrying towards the back of the pub.

“Yer talking pish! A willnae pey for shite!”.

Rahne stood up and clenched her fists, small claw-like blades springing from her brass knuckles and causing quite a stir in the small crowd around them that had been previously cheering for one or the other. She was swaying slightly, a clear sign that she was not entirely lucid due to the alcohol.

Kurt had stepped forward to intervene but Logan stopped him by raising his arm towards his chest and gently pushing him back, before getting up himself.

No matter how many years had passed and how much he grew in size and strength, his long-time friend still was still ridiculously short. Still, no one would have dared to laugh at his stature, not unless they wanted to face his fury and his legendary metal claws (as well as his massive biceps, of course).

“Ya wanna go?”, he growled.

- Snikt! -

With a quick snap of his wrists three blades were unsheated from each of his gloves, shining brightly even in the dim light of the pub.

Everyone around them shuddered and Rahne suddenly paled, as if she was just realizing exactly what kind of predicament she had put herself in.

“Ye ken what, a'm juist a big eejit, a'was juist haein a lauch!”, she said, forcing herself to laugh and making her blades disappear before sitting back down on the chair, sweating nervously. “Shuir a' will pey! Get us twa mair for awbody!”

The prospect of more beer seemed to be enough to convince Logan to give up the fight. With a small grunt and the flick of a switch he retracted his claws back inside their protective sheath and went back to sit on his chair.

As everyone else went back to cheering, grabbing a beer as soon as the automaton wheeled towards them with two trays full of tall mugs, Kurt could barely hold back a relieved sigh. He too picked up a glass full of a beautiful amber-coloured liquid with a generous coating of foam, and couldn't help but smile at the rich taste.

Soon enough the incident was as good as forgotten. In fact after a few more rounds Rahne and Logan were happily dancing on top of the table while singing loudly and out of tune, much to the owner's dismay.

“...And there behold, for them to view, beneath his Scottish skirt, was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth! Ring ding diddle iddle I de oh, ring di diddly I oh...”

“Gentlemen… ah, and lady, please! You'll scare the other patrons!”, the poor old man pleaded, and Kurt immediately took pity on him.

“Don't worry, I'll see that they get back to their room. We've got to get back to our airship tomorrow, after all”, he told him with a reassuring smile. He forced himself not to let it falter when he saw the other turn pale as he eyed him up and down, fear written all over his face.

“T-thank you sir”, the man whispered with a faint smile before scurrying away.

This time, Kurt couldn't hold back from sighing out loud. It didn't matter how nice he was nor how much he tried to make himself look as unthreatening as possible, his appearance still seemed to strike fear everywhere he went.

He shook that thought out of his head as he looked at the dancing duo, which was now starting a rendition of some other classic drinking song. He needed to get Logan back in their room.

For anyone else, the idea of separating the man from a good stash of beer would have been nothing short of impossible.

Luckily for him, Kurt also had a secret weapon of his own. At least when it came to dealing with the man known by most as “the Wolverine”.

“Logan, mein Freund”, he said, grasping onto the hem of his shirt to catch his attention and waiting till he was sure those blue eyes were looking down at him.

“Elf! Come join us!”, the man cheerfully said, grasping on his arm and dragging him up with them on the table – which gave a threatening creak as his full weight was added to that of the other two.

“Actually, I came to tell you I'm going to bed”, Kurt said, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “You know, in case you wanted to join in”. He gave him a little wink before jumping down from the table, curling his tail in a subtle but undeniable come-hither motion.

Logan had never sobered up so quickly in his entire life.

Despite his longer legs and much faster gait, Kurt barely had the time to run up the stairs before Logan caught up to him, picking him up bridal style and carrying him towards their room.

“Logan! Someone could see-”

“Then let them! I'll kick their asses if they dare to say a word!”.

Before Kurt could even try to protest the other man reached the door and kicked it open, practically throwing the blue-skinned man onto the bed. Well, actually two beds pushed together to form a single one. If any of the chambermaids had thought anything of that they sure would never dare to bring it up to the infamous mercenary Wolverine, nor to his maybe even more terrifying-looking companion.

If only they knew that there was a time where Kurt would have sooner let himself get beaten up than ever raise his hand in violence...

Well, it was a long time ago.

Sure, Kurt still disliked meaningless violence and didn't enjoy fighting when it was necessary either, but now the fear he struck in the heart of people was not just from his looks. He might not have been as fearsome of an opponent as his companion but he still was a force to be reckoned with for anyone unfortunate enough to be at the wrong end of his blades. He was so swift and agile that some people could have sworn he could teleport, especially when he made good use of his smoke bombs.

“At least close the door”, he said, crossing his arms as Logan crawled on top of him. The other man tried to kiss him, but he pressed the flat part of the tip of his tail against his lips and narrowed his eyes until Logan finally got back up with a groan and kicked the door shut.

Well, at least he had done as requested. Kurt decided not to be too fussy, he had better things to do than to start a discussion over the the man's rude manners. For example, walking up to him and climbing him like a tree, wrapping his legs around his waist as Logan picked him up and carried him back to the bed.

“I've drank a bit too much to do it standing”, the man admitted, helping him out of his vest and shirt. That was the easy part, well except for when his brass goggles tangled with the shirt and his headband. Usually he didn't need them outside of the airship (where he often acted as the lookout, since his night vision and great climbing skills gave him an advantage) but he still carried them with him out of habit. His clothes were tossed to the side, together with his gloves, then he proceeded to unbuckle his boots while Logan did the same with his own gloves.

Kurt's weapons were also embedded in his vest – his two scimitars could easily be released with the push of a button and he also had a blade that could be locked and strapped down on the tip of his tail, effectively turning it into a third sword. However, compared to Logan's machinery it was almost rudimentary.

The gloves he wore were actually more like gauntlets, with a sheath hiding six extremely sharp blades made out of Adamantium – the sturdiest metal in all of the Lands on, below and above. The gauntlets were strapped securely to his arms and vest and had wires and tubes going into his armoured back, where a complex system of pistons, springs, clockworks and steam-powered machinery allowed for the blades to be pushed in and out of their sheath.

The pro of that contraption was that it ensured Logan had easily available weapons he could pull out anytime and that could not be taken from him without having to cut off his entire forearm. The con was that it took literal ages to take the whole thing on and off of him. Also it weighted quite a bit, but Logan didn't seem to be too affected by that. Well, not much of a shock given the fact that he was absolutely shredded.

Kurt no longer was the scrawny boy living off of scraps that he used to be either. He also had filled out and had quite a nice body – something that Logan never seemed to tire of reminding him. However next to his partner his physique didn't seem all that impressive. At least he was taller than him, so that didn't make him feel so tiny.

“Ugh, sometimes I regret getting this thing done”, Logan complained with an impatient huff, unbuckling belt after belt and turning off knob after knob. It didn't help that Kurt in the meanwhile was already naked and laying down on the bed, thighs spread open and knees pulled up as if to show off his assets to his increasingly frustrated partner.

Logan eyed him with a mix of frustration, desire and annoyance as Kurt grinned like a devil and caressed his own cock, letting out moans that were too loud and too needy to be accidental.

“Oh ya think you're so clever huh? Wait 'til I've got this damn thing off me and I'll show you!”.

The man's voice was so low that he nearly growled, which only made the blue-skinned man grow harder.

“Oh no, I dread to think what you could do to me then”, he said, not even bothering to fake a concerned tone. “I sure don't want to know what you'll do with that big, thick hard weapon you're hiding in your pants...”.

“Just you wait! I'll fuck ya so hard you won't walk straight for days!”

“Oh no! How terrible...

“I'll fill yer ass so much that tomorrow it'll still be leaking my cum!”

“Oh, the horror...

Finally after what seemed like an eternity the whole thing was off of him and Logan hurried to get rid of the rest of his clothes as fast as possible to make up for the wait, kicking his boots off himself hard enough to send them flying across the room as soon as he unstrapped those too.

Had he been more lucid, Kurt would have scolded him for risking to damage the magnetic system inside them. Instead the only thing he was concerned with was the massive arousal between the legs of the man in front of him. He almost wished the other would just fuck him then and there, without even bothering with foreplay, but despite his threats Logan was too chivalrous for that.

If the fact that their two beds had been pushed together already might have been enough to make the cleaning staff wonder about the nature of their relationship, opening the right night-stand drawer and finding the well-used vial of lubricant would have left no doubt about it.

Kurt was very glad they had thought of putting it in such an easily accessible place even if they only had to stay at that inn for a few nights. Having to rummage through their bags while drunk would probably have taken enough time for the euphoria to wear down and allow the alcohol to get them drowsy and tired, until the only thing they would have been able to do on that bed was to fall asleep.

Instead Logan quickly opened up the vial and poured some on his fingers, setting it aside before proceeding to slide the first one inside. It went in without a hitch, as Kurt was very used to it by then, and was very soon followed by the second. In truth he wouldn't have needed to be prepared like that but he did appreciate the fact that the other was caring enough to want to make sure he could take him. Considering the size of his dick, it was a legitimate worry.

“I can't wait to fuck you”, Logan said, enjoying the warmth and softness of Kurt's inner walls and thinking of how good that was going to feel around his cock. No matter how many times they had sex, he never seemed to get tired of it. “You'll regret grinding my gears then”.

“Are you sure 'regret' is the word you're looking for?”, Kurt teased him, his tail sneaking up between the other's legs to caress his thighs.

“Just wait and see”. Logan finally pulled out his finger and lubed up his cock before he started to push it against his well-prepared hole.

Kurt moaned as soon as the tip slid in, enjoying that familiar feeling of being stretched out and filled more and more as Logan kept pushing, without pulling out yet. He was going slow, too slow, and Kurt was sure he was doing it on purpose.

“Ah! Harder!”, he demanded, wrapping his legs around the other man's waist and trying to impale himself against his length, but Logan's hands were keeping his hips steady.

“Didn't hear ya say the magic word”, the man retorted with a shit-eating-grin.

Kurt huffed, but he knew he wouldn't get what he wanted until he gave in.

Please, Logan, harder!”

Immediately the other pushed himself fully inside him with a sharp thrust, making him gasp out loud.

“Verfickte Scheiße!”

He couldn't help it, no matter how much he could have been used to it Logan was just so big. He loved how it felt to be filled up by him like that, but it also always felt like a shock, like his body was not quite ready for it.

The first times they had tried it had been such a disaster that Kurt thought he'd never be able to do it and maybe it would have been better if they tried to switch it up. Luckily, doing that helped them figure out what Logan was doing wrong and, when he finally got it right, Kurt felt so good he almost didn't ever want to be on top again. Which was quite convenient, since Logan preferred to be the one fucking him rather than the other way around anyway.

Logan started to move in and out of him, at a slow pace, so that his body could get used to the insertion. No one else but Kurt could have imagined that the animalistic mercenary could be such a careful lover. It was clear he was holding himself back to make sure there would be no discomfort for his partner. Kurt was grateful for it, but he also eagerly awaited the moment in which he would start to pick up his pace and just fuck him senseless, like he had promised to.

Except Logan kept moving at the same slow, gentle pace, showing no sign that he intended to hurry up anytime soon. He was sporting a mischievous grin which grew wider and wider, and finally his lover realized his intentions.

“Ah! Du Arsch!”, he complained, once again trying to move his hips and fuck himself against the other man's cock, but once again Logan's strong grip was halting his attempts. “Stop teasing me like this and fuck me instead!”

“Oh but I'd like to take it slow for once”, Logan replied with a chuckle, enjoying the sight of Kurt's frustrated expression. His entire body was flushing, giving his skin a subtle purple hue, and his narrowed glowing eyes looked like embers. He normally didn't have the patience to tease his partner and delay his own satisfaction, but this time he felt like being devious.

Kurt gritted his teeth and stubbornly tried to hold on to his pride, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing him beg for more. As a response, Logan grasped on his ankles and took advantage of his athletic and flexible body to push them forward and down, going so low that he could slide them behind Kurt's shoulders with his prehensile feet crossed behind his head. Then, he changed the angle a bit until his cock was lined just right to brush against the man's prostate with every thrust and pulled himself all the way back until his glans barely remained within the confines of the warm body underneath him.

With unbearable slowness, he started to push it in again, inch after inch, enjoying the feel of the other's tight passage opening up for him and simultaneously squeezing down on his cock. He ignored Kurt's pouting and the fact that his tail was swishing around angrily, hitting him too often for it to be an accident. Then, once his full length was enveloped by his warm body, he pulled himself out just as slowly and he started doing it all over again, much to his lover's chagrin.

“Logan, please!”, Kurt finally caved in and begged. “I can't take this any more, I'm going to go mad!”

“How impatient”, Logan noted with a low chuckle. “Do ya really want my cock that badly?”

“Yes! Please!”, Kurt insisted, wrapping his tail around one of the other's muscular thighs. “I want you to fuck me senseless”.

“Careful what ya wish for, Elf”, Logan teased him. Having already gotten what he wanted, he had no intention to hold himself back any longer. Therefore, as soon as he warned him he grasped firmly on his hips and started slamming his own against them, faster and faster, drawing a first startled cry and then a continuous stream of moans and gasps from his partner.

He fucked him roughly, pumping his hips like an hydraulic system, the movement as even as it was relentless. It was nothing like the awkward, careful lovemaking of their first times, when Logan was too worried about hurting his partner to go all out on him like that, while Kurt's body was still struggling to adjust to his size.

To an outside observer it might have seemed like Logan was being selfish and only thinking of his own pleasure, at least before taking notice of Kurt's ecstatic expression. His pleasured screams were growing louder and louder with every thrust, occasionally interjected by his lover's name and by swears in his adoptive father's tongue.

When he finally came, his whole body convulsed and his inner muscles clenched around Logan's cock like a vice, bringing both men to an almost simultaneous orgasm. His semen spurted out on his own abdomen due to the position, the pearly-white substance standing out against his dark furry skin, while Logan unloaded himself deep inside of him.

Finally, once Logan pulled out of him, Kurt unfolded his legs and wrapped them around him, doing the same with his arms to pull him into a full-body embrace.

“That was great”, he said, his voice husky as he struggled to catch his breath.

“It's a good start”, conceded Logan, grinning as he saw Kurt raise one eyebrow in response.

“We have to get up early tomorrow”.

Logan gathered a good amount of lube in his hand and started stroking himself, already beginning to get hard again. Kurt was always in equal parts admired and concerned about the fact that his partner didn't really seem to have a refractory period. In fact his body always recovered fast from anything, from injury to illnesses, to an almost inhuman degree.

“I told you you'd regret it”, the shorter man said, pushing his semi-hard member against the other's entrance, which swallowed it up with ease. Kurt let out a strangled moan and muttered something too low and garbled-up for Logan to understand clearly but that sounded suspiciously like “arschloch”. Still, rather than pulling back he clenched his legs tighter and quickly flipped him around so that he was pushing him down against the mattress, positioning himself more comfortably until he was sitting on top of him.

“And they say I'm the demon”, he noted with a smirk of his own, grazing Logan's pubes with the tip of his tail before tracing along the line of his happy trail. The pressure was too light to even push on his skin, in fact he barely touched it at all, but the tickling sensation as it brushed his hairs sent pleasant shivers through Logan's body.

“Less talking, more fucking”, was Logan's gruff reply, and even if he just came and would not get hard again as soon as his companion, Kurt was happy to comply.

If Logan had fucked him like a machine, Kurt was riding him as if he was a mechanical bull, and indeed the shorter man kept bucking his hips to meet his movements and try to speed them up. His hands went to Kurt's ass cheeks, grasping on them and spreading them open, while the other man used his own hands and his tail to balance himself as he impaled himself on Logan's cock with gusto.

It didn't take much longer for Logan to cum again, while Kurt's cock had just started to show signs of recovery. Not wasting any time, Logan made him get off of himself only to kneel on the bed and crawl up behind him, rubbing himself against his ass until he grew hard again and pushing himself inside with no warning.

“Ah! Mein Gott!”, was all that Kurt said, and then one of the other's calloused hands wrapped around his hardening length and started stroking him at the same rhythm of his thrusts. Soon enough he was panting and writhing against the sheets, his tail wrapping around Logan's other arm.

The man immediately responded by grasping on the base of his tail and pulling on it, using it almost as a handle as he fucked him hard, and Kurt practically started howling in a mixture of pain and pleasure, his muscles tightening around the other man's cock. It only took Logan a few more thrusts and strokes to send his partner over the edge, this time spraying all over the bedsheets before falling down limply against them.

Logan's cock slipped out of him in the process, but he was not discouraged. Instead, he simply took a pillow and placed it under Kurt's lower body, then repositioned himself so that he could fuck him without making him raise his hips, and went at it again like a wild beast.

He came twice like that, without even pulling out inbetween the first and second climax, then took a short break to drink some water from a flask and help his partner do the same, laughing at Kurt's eagerness when he nearly emptied it up.

“Still eager to be filled up, huh?”

Kurt would have remarked with something snarky had his brain not been turned to jelly by the consecutive orgasms and by the fact that Logan's mouth was suddenly engulfing his cock, which was slowly rising again. The pleasure soon emptied his mind from all thoughts except that he was probably going to die because Logan would fuck him to death or make him cum so much his brain exploded, or probably both.

When Logan pulled away from his aching erection and moved him so that he was on his side, lifting one of his legs to push himself inside his by-then-sloppy hole, Kurt could only gasp and clench his hands on the sheets, his cock helplessly twitching and leaking precum every time the other rammed against his prostate. By the time he came again, shuddering and letting out a long keening moan, Logan had already shot out another load inside him and turned him around so that they were face-to-face, leaning down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss as he filled him up.

At that point it all became a blur of tangled limbs, sweat, muttered German cursewords and what felt like an endless stream of orgasms, until finally Logan collapsed on top of him before rolling over to the side, not wanting to fall asleep on him and suffocate him with his weight.

“Zur Hölle...”, Kurt murmured weakly, too exhausted to pretend to be outraged at his partner. “You really are a beast”.

“What can I say... I was tempted by a perverted demon”, Logan replied, and even he could not hide the strain in his voice. “I could do nothing to resist”.

Kurt snorted.

“You won't be laughing... when we have to get up... and you have to get your suit back on”.

Logan grimaced and let out a small groan at the thought.

“Oh well... still worth it”.

Kurt shook his head, unable to hide the smile on his lips. As always his partner had no shame... nor any sense of self-preservation.

Then again, that had been one of the best fucks in months. Forget walking, he wasn't even sure how he'd get up in the first place the next day, or wake up at all for that matter. He felt like he could sleep for an entire week.

Judging by the increasingly loud snoring that started to fill the room, Logan probably shared that sentiment.

Kurt let out a small chuckle, or maybe he just imagined it, drifting to sleep as soon as he laid his head on the pillow and told himself he'd just rest his eyes for a second.


“Logan! Kurt! Git the fuck oot thare, the noo! Caiptain Russel's reekin!”

The Scot's loud voice and the hammering of her fist startled them both awake, making them realize that neither of them had bothered to set an alarm in their eagerness to get down to business.




“Oi billies, spur! Swith oot!”, Rahne insisted, and Kurt was starting to worry that she might just barge in there and find them both naked and covered in each other's spunk on the same bed. Rumours were one thing, but being caught in the act was another.

“I get it, I get it! Tell the Captain we're coming! Now fuck off or I'll cut you up like a melon!”, threatened Logan, throwing his nearest shoe at the door.

As soon as the other's footsteps signaled she had left, Logan jumped down from the bed and darted – or rather, shambled around the room to collect all of their clothes and pile them up on the bed.

“We're going to stink to high heaven”, Kurt complained, noticing with dismay that his fur was still crusted with cum in several spots. It would take more than a quick wash to get rid of it, and even that would require more time than they had at their disposal.

“Better than getting flogged for delaying the ship”, Logan replied, getting dressed as quickly as humanly possible. He tried not to think about the fact that he'd have to put his gauntlets (and all the relative machinery) back on, and that alone would take more than the captain would deem reasonable to wait. “We'll clean up later, on board. Now help me put this on or we'll never make it”.

Kurt tried to get up and almost fell over, grasping on the edge of the bed as his whole body complained for the sudden movement. It was like every single one of his muscles was sore, especially the ones below his waist. Plus, as if his thighs weren't already uncomfortably sticky, he felt something dribble down along them as the gravity shift allowed the leftover cum to leak out of him.

“Verdammte-” he bit his lip and glared at Logan. Now he was starting to resent him, at least a bit. “If we get flogged because of your brilliant idea I swear I'm crushing your balls”.

Logan didn't seem too perturbed by his threat, in fact he winked at him with a small grin.

“Mmh, kinky!”.

Kurt shook his head.

“Mein Freund, you're a lost cause”.

A few weeks later

Logan was staring idly at the ceiling and resting his head against his pillow, groaning in annoyance.

He hated being sick. He rarely ever caught any illness and always recovered incredibly fast, almost to a inhumane degree (some said he must have made a deal with the Devil), but during those occasions he was unsufferable. Even Kurt had trouble handling his temper at those times, which was one of the reasons why he wasn't there pampering him with the excuse of checking up on him or “discussing tactics”.

They'd had some argument over some idiotic thing that Logan couldn't even remember properly – something about him making an off-hand joke that Kurt didn't take well, and normally he would have just apologized but that morning his head was hurting like hell and all he wanted was to take it out on something, or someone.

So instead of reconciling he had snapped at him, and he had regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth but it was too late. Before he could say anything more, Kurt had stormed off from their shared cabin and left him alone to his misery.

“Good job Logan, way to make an ass out of yourself”, he murmured grimly into the empty room, closing his eyes and covering them with the back of his hand. The artificial light was too bright, it was driving him mad. If there was one thing worse than sulking by himself with no beers and no company it was sulking by himself with no beers, no company and what he suspected was the beginning of an head-splitting headache.

“Fucking great. Just what I needed”.

He turned around to face the wall, pulling his covers up the top of his hair to filter out the light.

Ah, much bet-

- BANG! -

Just when he thought he could finally try to get some rest he was suddenly knocked out of his bed, the entire room shaking from what he would have assumed to be an earthquake if they hadn't been several miles above any sort of terrain.

Fuck! An attack!

Logan sprang up to his feet and nearly tripped down, managing to grasp on the frame of the bunk beds at the last second. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the way the room seemed to keep moving around him even when the airship had clearly regained balance, albeit maintaining a slight incline.

Well isn't this some great fucking timing.

Whoever had the brilliant idea to attack them and sour his already foul mood would be paying for it dearly, he immediately decided.

He firstly grabbed his boots and put them on, activating their magnetic system to make sure his feet would stick to the floor in case the airship started moving around again. Then he marched up to the giant chest in one side of the room and quickly started pulling out his armour, assembling the pieces together directly on top of the clothes he was already wearing.

He normally would be walking around in his armour, his body covered by several layers of protective gear, but he didn't have time for that now. Hell knew how much time he even had to get ready before things took a turn for the worst. He'd just have to make sure not to get hit and hope that his armour would be enough to defend him if that failed.

“Of all the fucking times to attack our ship”, he growled, quickly fastening the straps around his arms after activating the mechanism and disabling the safety system. He hadn't checked if he had refilled after the last time and he certainly wouldn't be able to do that at the time being. He'd just have to hope for the best.

Finally, everything was in place. He didn't even have time to walk to the door before it was slammed open, so hard it almost was pulled out of its hinges.

Logan immediately recognized the man that appeared in front of him, blond and taller than him by over ten inches but not as muscular. Clint Barton was one of the four Mercenaries that Captain Russell had hired to protect his cargo and his crew, along with Logan, Kurt and Rahne. Physically he was probably the weakest out of them, but he had a killer aim and could shoot a man dead with a single dart from miles away – or so they said.

“Logan, hurry! We're being atta-”


The blood sprayed out of Clint's mouth, turning his words into an incoherent gargle as the man arched up, hands grasping at the sharp pike that emerged from his gaping mouth and eyes widening in panic at the realization that he'd been skewered like a roasted pig.

Logan stared back at him in horror as the man twitched like a dying insect, hands flailing helplessly as if he was hoping to grasp on something and pull himself free. Then the weapon was retracted and he fell to the floor like a marionette whose wires had been cut off, body shook by a few more violent twitches until the pike pierced him straight through his head.

Logan balled up his fists, anger coursing through his veins like liquid fire as a lanky green-haired man entered the room, stepping over Clint's corpse.

“Hope you're gonna last a bit more than your friend here”, the man said, pouting as he pulled out his weapon from its head. “I'd expected more from a Merc!”

- Snikt! -

The man's expression changed as soon as he saw him unsheathe his blades, grinning and rubbing his hands in glee.

“Oh yes, the Wolverine!”, he practically squealed. “It's always been my dream to kill you!”

“Keep dreaming, creep!”, Logan sneered, charging at him and ducking just in time to dodge his attack. The other's spear merely brushed his shoulder as it extended, leaving a small scrape on his shoulder armour. In the meanwhile he tried to sink his fists into his chest, but the man was too quick and jumped back before his hits could land, completely unscathed.

Damn, he's quick.

Logan barely had the time to move back before the other attacked again, extending and retracting his spear with incredible speed. That had to be incredibly advanced technology, not even his claws could be pulled out and in again repeatedly like that without jamming the mechanism and getting them stuck.

He didn't waste too much time on those thoughts, however, as he had a feeling if he allowed himself to get distracted he would end up like Clint. Normally he would have felt fully confident that he could beat that asshole without even breaking a sweat, but his movements were slower than usual and his timing was off, his reflexes compromised by the fever.

Fuck, why did I have to get sick at a time like this?!

It wasn't looking good for him, that soon became very clear. Sure he was fast, but right now the enemy was faster. This meant he was parrying and dodging all hits but failing to break through the bastard's defences.

If things kept on like that, he realized with rising panic, he was going to tire and lose focus, which was probably what his enemy was counting on. It was already becoming harder and harder for him to keep track of the other's movements, while his own felt increasingly slow and clunky.

Logan didn't notice he was being pushed into a corner until it was too late, and then all it took was one little slip – a foot stepping a bit too far, an arm swinging a bit too high, and a sharp pain blossomed in his side.

“Fuck!”, Logan cursed, jerking away but too late. The tip of the spear was buried in his abdomen, blood dripping down on his trousers as the enemy twisted his weapon, dragging a pained growl out of the wounded man.

“Aw, going down already?”. The other tsked and made a face. “If you're gonna die so easily why don't you lay down and let me kill you? Maybe I'll be merciful and grant you a quick death!”. He laughed raucously, then pulled out his spear by retracting it and took a step back, preparing to strike again. “I hope that little freak you always travel with will be more fun to kill!”

The mention of Kurt made Logan's blood freeze, turning his anger and frustration into a sort of cold rage. It cut through the fog of his mind like a sharp glass, making his senses fire up and notice everything they did not before.

The hurried footsteps of the ship's crew as they ran past his room. The stench of tobacco wafting from the enemy's green hair. The aftertaste of the spices in the soup that Kurt fed him still lingering in his mouth. A droplet of blood falling on his left boot, right next to the-

“Too much talk”, he growled, re-sheathing his claws and squatting down to duck the next hit, and to push the switch on the side of his boots all the way down.

A lot of things happened at once. The magnetic system reversed itself, the other man aimed downwards, Logan jumped past him just as the spear slipped right underneath, and the combined push of his muscles and of the repulsing magnetic field sent him several foots in the air, allowing him to spin around before landing.


The other didn't have the chance to turn before the claws sliced through his shoulders, shredding his armour as if it was made of cardboard instead of solid metal and leather. When Logan cut off his head and let it fall down it rolled around like some kind of unsightly pineapple, features stuck into an almost-comical mask of surprise.

Logan's attention however went back to the headless body laying on the floor as soon as he had re-sheathed his claws and reversed the magnetic field so that he wouldn't have to be stuck in a constant hopping loop.

“Who the fuck are ya?”, Logan wondered out loud, walking up to the corpse and crouching down – groaning in pain and pushing one hand against his wound as a sharp current of pain seared through his abdomen. He had almost forgotten about it in the heat of the moment. He would have to find a way to stop the bleeding before leaving the room, but first he wanted to understand who he was dealing with.

Aeropirates, for sure. That much was obvious. Probably there to raid the airship and steal the secret cargo that Captain Russell had hired him to protect. But who would dare to go against a royal airship guarded by four Mercenaries? Not to mention that whoever that green-haired guy was he had been unusually tough to kill. Maybe an ex-Merc?

He had his answer as soon as he pulled off the remains of the tattered armour and vest and saw the mark on the man's back – the same mark he carried on his, the same mark Kurt always avoided to let his fingers linger onto when he touched him, that he was always too hesitant to openly ask about because of the face Logan made whenever he was reminded of its presence.

Oh fuck, no!

He darted out without a second thought, the pain in his side nearly forgotten, jumping over Clint's body without even considering the idea to take his crossbow with him.


He rushed through the corridors, dodging the mass of people running in the opposite direction, claws out to strike down any aeropirates unfortunate enough to meet his path.

“Why?”, he growled, a familiar feeling of dread rising in his gut as he made his way towards the cargo. “Of all people, why did it have to be him?

Kurt had not been the one on lookout duty when the pirate airship approached them. He'd been sitting by himself on the deck, sharpening his blades and trying not to think back to his argument with Logan.

Even as he was focusing on his task he could feel the stares of the crew. He'd been journeying on that airship for what felt like months and still there were people gawking at him as if they'd seen him for the first time. It was quite unnerving.

He'd been tempted to go back in, arguing to himself on whether he should check up on his partner or make sure to ignore him for the rest of the day, when suddenly Clint had given the warning.

Immediately Kurt had stopped doing what he was doing to equip all of his blades, including the one on his tail. Captain Russell had started shouting orders right away, pulling out his blaster and evacuating the deck for the upcoming battle.

“Everyone who isn't a trained member of the royal crew, get back inside at once and send my men out!”, he said, before approaching Kurt. “You and the scot will defend the deck, but if these bastards get inside I'll need you to go and make sure the cargo stays in safe hands!”.

Kurt gave him a panicked look.

“Sir, I need to go and warn my partner”, he said, trying to sound as respectful as he could despite his worry. Normally he wouldn't have to even consider the thought of something happening to Logan, but he knew he was still sick and probably sleeping in his room, completely unprepared.

“I'll do it”, Clint chimed in from behind the Captain, startling him so much he nearly fell over. “I'll escort Captain Russell to his rooms and then I'll tell Logan”.

“I won't be escorted anywhere!”, the other man protested, glaring at him. “I'm a Captain, I won't go hide from a battle like a coward, and I order-”

“You hired us to keep your cargo safe until it reaches its destination. As the only person informed of the nature of the cargo and of it's final destination, your survival is fundamental to completing the task you have hired us for”, Clint cut him off, grasping on his wrist. “This means if you won't cooperate I will be forced to drag you to your rooms and lock you in there myself”.

“This is an outrage! I'll have you arrested for insubordination!”, the man screamed, trying to free himself from the man's hold. “Let me go at once! I'm ordering you to let me go! This is mutiny! Stop!”.

The man's yelling almost seemed to grow in volume as he was dragged away like a stubborn child. Kurt would have almost found it funny if he wasn't so worried. What if Clint didn't make it in time?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a sudden explosion, the airship shaking so much that a few men from the crew were thrown overboard. Kurt had barely avoided that fate by jumping on the nearest mast and holding onto it with both feet and tail.

Once the airship finally regained balance, Kurt looked up and realized one of the gas bags had been blown up, which gave the airship a slight tilt. This instability would hinder their escape, making it harder for them to get away, but he suspected it had been more to shock them than anything. The pirate airship was clearly much faster than them, thanks to its much smaller size and its leaner design. It was not something designed to last for long journeys with as few stops inbetween as possible, it was a quick vehicle meant to carry a modest-sized crew within short distances.

From that, Kurt gathered that their hideout had to be somewhere not too far from there. However he hadn't known of any other airships being attacked on that route.

Maybe they're rookies?

He really hoped so, but for some reason he had a really bad feeling about it.

He didn't know why, but something told him this wasn't going to end well...


Since the time of their first encounter, Kurt and Logan had been pretty much inseparable.

It hadn't taken long for them to see there'd be no future for two boys like them in the squalid town by the sea where Logan had found the other. Kurt had been the one to decide to get out of there, as for Logan he hadn’t really had any objections to the idea. He didn't care all that much where he was as long as that scrawny kid was within his sight.

Wherever Kurt went, Logan went too, and whenever Logan got himself into trouble Kurt would be right at his side. That was probably how that easily bullied German boy turned into a remarkably good fighter, particularly if he could get a hold of a blade.

They'd started out as cabin boys on the first ship that didn't refuse to take them in. Most did, due to Kurt's demon-like appearance and the superstitious fear that they would learn to expect from sailors of both air and sea. However, eventually they had managed to find a captain that took pity on the two, probably due to his own unusual appearance.

Captain Hank McCoy had been one of the strangest men the two had ever known, and not just due to the fact that his whole body was covered in blue fur, much thicker and longer than Kurt's. He was incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, not just about matters concerning the sea but about all sorts of topics that Logan would have expected a nobleman to know about, rather than the captain of a modest ship.

They'd almost been sad to leave his company, but they had never intended to live their life on the sea. It just happened to be a convenient way to get across oceans without having the money to be a passenger.

From then on, they'd been on all sorts of adventures that lead them to eventually not only join the Mercs but even to become two of the most well-known ones. They'd sometimes been in dangerous situations or having to struggle to stay warm and fed, but they'd never really been apart from each other for longer than a day.

Except for once...


“Missed me, runt?”.

Logan didn't even need to look at him to recognize that voice, in fact he'd known all along who he'd been facing. He'd never wished for anything as much as he had wished to find out he'd been wrong, but unfortunately in front of him was none other than famed criminal Victor Creed.

“Fuck you, Creed”, he growled, itching with the need to slice him up in tiny little pieces. If it had been any other enemy he wouldn't have hesitated to charge against him, but this was no common foe and he was injured and ill.

This is the worst possible situation, he thought, trying to mask his rising panic with bravado.

He hadn't seen the man in ten years, yet in that moment it felt as if it hadn't been longer than a day. He still felt the same mixture of shame, fear and anger at finding himself in front of him.

This time it was different, he told himself. They were out in the open, not in prison, and Logan was fully armed.

Unfortunately so was Victor.

“Oh, you'd wish”, the blond almost purred, making a cold shiver run down Logan's spine.

He'd tried so hard to forget those memories, but he never could, no matter how many beers he drank nor how many times he made love to Kurt it never made them go away forever. There would always be something to remind him of them from time to time.

Calm down Logan. We're not in prison any more. He can't just do whatever he wants this time.

He tried to repeat that to himself to stop his body from shivering, knowing that the other was eyeing him up and down and noticing his fear, maybe he could even smell it like the beast he was.

“What d'ya want, Creed?”, he asked, still not unsheathing his claws. If he wanted to strike him he'd better try to surprise him, because there was no way he could win against the other with sheer physical strength and brute fury as he usually did. He knew that from experience. “It better be death 'cause that's the only thing I'll give ya!”

“Big talk from a guy as small as you”, Victor mocked him, making his blood boil.

Logan forced himself to stay still, knowing the other was purposefully trying to provoke him into acting on impulse. He couldn't afford to be reckless, not in his current condition.

“Where are your underlings, huh?”, he asked, sneering at him. “Finally grew enough balls to face me on your own?”.

He didn't like the fact that Victor was the only one there. Logan wasn't stupid enough to believe he'd come to steal the cargo all on his own, nor that the few small fries and that spear-waving lunatic he'd taken care of on his way there were the only members of his gang.

“Why don'tcha come and find out?”, Victor replied, grinning like the devil.

Logan was torn. He didn't want to act before he knew what was going on, but what if Victor was stalling for time while his minions were busy doing hell-knows-what? The more time he wasted conversing with him the more time Logan would be stuck there unable to stop whatever nefarious plan was being put into action in that moment.

“Fine. I'll cut them off for ya, and make ya eat them!”


Victor's grin grew even fiercer, his fang-like canines making it look like the snarl of an angry beast - and much like one his claw-like nails extended from the tip of his fingers. Logan knew from experience that they were every bit as sharp as they looked.

“Sure. But if you lose, you'll be the one to 'eat' them”, the man threatened, before suddenly leaping forward.

- thirteen years earlier -

“What's your name, runt?”

The huge, towering blond approached him in the shower, followed by two other men that surrounded Logan from each side. The proximity with what was obviously their boss made them seem significantly smaller and less muscular, but they still looked like they could pack a good punch.

Logan turned around to face them, eyeing them nervously. His bulk and his short temper were usually enough to keep any perverts at bay, and the few ones who hadn't gotten the memo and didn't listen to his warnings had learned their lesson after he had let his fists do the talking.

However this guy was different, and not only because he was bigger than him. He'd kicked the ass of guys that looked like they could crush him before, he wasn't the type to get intimidated by an opponent's sheer size even when it was someone as big as the one in front of him.

No, what scared him more than that was the man's fame – or rather infamy. He'd heard of the guy from other inmates, one of them had described him as “the biggest, baddest motherfucker you don't ever want to cross path with”.

“If he ever comes close to you don't speak to him, don't look at him, don't even breathe – and do everything he wants to, when he asks for it”, the same man had warned him on the third day he'd been there, feeling sympathy for the newcomer.

Logan had acted like the guy didn't scare him, and at first that had been true, but the more he heard about him the more he hoped he'd never have to be anywhere near him.

Especially after he'd heard some guys start taking bets on “how long before Creed makes that new punk his bitch”.

He remembered the warning, but he raised his head and looked straight into his amber eyes, chest pushed out and back held straight to make himself look bigger and more imposing.

“Piss off”, he barked out, trying to sound as aggressive as he could. He didn't care about the warnings, if he showed signs of submission then the other would think he could just do whatever he wanted with him. He needed to stand his ground, even if it meant getting the shit beaten out of him.

“Nice to meet'cha, Piss.”, the man said, lips spreading in a smug grin while his two henchmen chuckled.

Logan turned red, clenching his hands into fists. He thought about punching him straight into his face but he held back, still holding onto the hope that maybe he could find a way to intimidate him enough to make him go away.

“Name's Victor Creed”, the man continued, eyeing him up and down and looking at him as if he was a piece of meat. “Some call me Sabretooth,” - he placed a hand to the side of Logan's face, crouching down and leaning in closer until their noses almost touched - “as for you, bitch, you will call me 'Sir' ”.

That was all it took for Logan to throw caution to the wind. His forehead collided with the blond’s, his clenched fist slamming into the other’s abdomen. It was almost like hitting a brick wall, the impact reverberating through his whole arm while he saw sparks for a few moments, but it did manage to push Victor a few inches back.

The taller man stood up again, massaging his own abdomen. His two henchmen seemed shocked and outraged that this newcomer would have the nerve to strike their boss, but Victor didn’t even seem angry. If anything he seemed amused by it.

“I felt that, runt”, he said, before grasping Logan by his neck and slamming him against the wall. “Good hit. Now it’s my turn”.

Logan barely had the time to register the fact that he was choking when a blow hit him straight into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He had never been hit with such force before, it felt like someone had thrown a cannonball at him. For a few seconds he thought he would lose his senses and panicked, biting his lip until it bled to keep himself awake.

It wasn’t only his pride that moved him; yes, he didn’t want to bear the humiliation of fainting from a single blow, but the truth was he’d never been so scared of losing a fight before. He’d been beaten up when he was younger and prone to seek trouble, but he’d never risked going down from a single blow.

Victor laughed, letting go of him and watching him slip down from the wet wall and fall on the floor with a splash, coughing as he tried to catch his breath and not get water in his nose.

Fuck. He’s too strong.

He realized in that moment he shouldn’t have underestimated the warnings, but it was too late. He knew the other would want to teach him a lesson for his cockiness, he was going to get the shit beaten out of him whether he fought back or not. All he could do was prove he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Come on, is that all you’ve got?”, Victor taunted him, slamming his foot in his side before he could reply. “Whoops, was that your rib? My bad!”

Logan’s rising anger was battling with his fear. He looked up and shot Victor the coldest, deadliest look he could manage. It hurt like hell, but his humiliation burned more, so he forced himself to get up and not show it, gritting his teeth and clenching his hands back into fists as soon as possible.

“Is that the worst ya can do?”, he asked, grinning through his pain. He was fucked either way, he figured, so might as well give it all he got.

Victor let out a vicious laugh, then licked his lips in a way that made Logan shiver.

“Oh don’t worry, I was just warming up”, he said, before glancing aside to his minions. “Stay back if you don’t want to get hurt”.

The two guys didn’t wait to be told twice, leaving a couple metres of distance between themselves and their boss. In the meanwhile, more people around them had noticed what had been going on and were quick to follow suit to avoid getting caught up in the fight.

Once the field was clear, Victor cracked his back and his shoulders with a loud popping sound, arms spreading wide as his nails grew in length until they resembled sharp claws. He grinned again, but this time his lips pulled back so far that Logan could see almost all of his teeth, making his overgrown canines stand out.

Logan paled at that sight, finally realizing the extent of how much he was screwed. When the other inmates talked of him as El Bestia he hadn’t realized they meant it literally.

But the worst wasn’t even that. Oh no, far from it. He could have taken the thought that he was about to be sliced up like a ham, much like he would have done if his damn metal claws hadn’t been confiscated by the prison guards.

The worst thing was the thick, massive erection that the blond was sporting underneath his hairy stomach. It was the biggest cock Logan had ever seen, so much that it would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but the man in front of him was also inhumanly big.

He really is a fucking beast, Logan thought with disgust. Not only did he look like one, his instincts were clearly those of a beast.

And then, Victor leapt forward.

Logan didn’t really think as much as react almost purely by instinct, dodging and kicking and punching and pulling every dirty trick in the book, all in the hope of tiring the other down and somehow gain the upper hand. It wasn’t the greatest plan but it was his only chance, so he had to put all of his efforts into it.

Unfortunately for him, his enemy seemed to have an endless amount of stamina and only seemed to get more fired up as the fight went on. Some of Logan’s hits landed, and a few times he even managed to use Victor’s size against him to slam him against the floor, but fighting in the showers meant that his enemy was too slippery to get a good grip on him half of the time.

As for Victor, he fought like a wild animal, at times even charging at him on all fours and bouncing off the wall, his claws cutting stripes in his back and chest and everywhere else he could reach. He tried to bite him too but Logan had managed to bat away his face, one time kicking him so hard he was sure he felt his jaw pop out of place.

If he hadn’t been unarmed, maybe things would have been different. Maybe he would have stood a chance. As it was, all he could do was hold out for as long as his muscles would allow him to. His last hope at that point was that if only he could wait a bit longer it’d be time to get out of the showers. Would the guards intervene to make sure that they all got out, or would they also be too scared of Victor to force him to out of there? He didn’t know, but he had to bank on that nonetheless. It was his only option.

“You know, when I first saw you I was expecting this to be more… short-lived ”, Victor remarked, his voice breathy from the effort and the excitement of the fight. “I must admit you’ve got spunk. I’m starting to have fun!”

“H-ha… wait till I… show you… some fucking fun...”.

Logan tried to grin but it looked more like a grimace. His legs were shaking, barely managing to keep him up even while he was resting against the wall for balance, his face covered in bruises and cuts and likewise his chest and back and arms. One of his eyes was swollen shut and his nose was bleeding, as well as his split lip. He was pretty sure one of his teeth was chipped because it felt sharp when he pushed his tongue against it.

“Oh but that’s my line”, the blond said, his mouth twisted into a leering grin. His lips were also busted, staining his fanged smile with blood and making him look even more feral.

Before Logan could do anything he was once again tossed to the floor, arms and knees sheltering his body from the fall. Even just that effort made his limbs shake as if he had tried to lift a carriage barehanded – which in fact was a thing that had happened, a long time before then…

He didn’t have time to mull over that however when there were much more pressing matters at hand. Such as the matter of what was pressing against his back once Victor was crouching over him, pinning him down before he could make any attempt to struggle free.

“Fuck off!”, Logan growled, but even his voice trembled. He wasn’t naive enough not to know what the other wanted to do, he had had no doubt about his intentions from the moment the other had looked at him as if he was a tasty snack.

And he knew that, right then? There was absolutely fuck-all he could do to stop him.

“See bitch, if you had just done as I asked from the beginning this wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun. I’m really going to enjoy breaking you”, Victor said, leaning down to lick the sweat and water off from his neck as he forced him to spread his thighs, using his own ankles and heels to hook on his legs and keep them there.

The blond’s massive cock was soon rubbing against Logan’s naked rear, much to his horror. He’d been fucked before but only by Kurt and not all that often since his partner had managed to adjust to his size. He had enjoyed it then because it had been with his beloved friend – he couldn’t really call him his boyfriend since they had never defined their relationship in such precise terms – who had taken his time to help him prepare for it and to wait before he was fully ready before he started moving.

This was nothing like that. He could tell as soon as his face was pushed against the wet floor, making him struggle to keep his face turned to the side in order to avoid drowning, as soon as the tip of that monstruous erection was pushed against his entrance and forced in, ripping his ass open.

That was when he screamed – or rather, howled in pain. He was sure he could feel himself bleeding, it hurt so much that it had to be bleeding, but maybe it was just the water from the showers.

“Fuck yes, you’re tight!”, Victor growled against his ear, clawed fingers digging into Logan’s hips to keep him in place as the other pushed his length all the way in, ignoring his pained cries as his insides were forced open by the man’s massive erection. “Don’t tell me I’ve just popped your cherry?”

“None of your… AAH! Fucking business!”, Logan cried out, clenching his fists till his knuckles turned white as he felt him pull himself out halfway, but only to shove himself back in with a rough thrust, soon followed by another, and yet another one, until the man started pumping himself in and out of him with such a steadfast rhytm that it was like being fucked by a well-oiled machine.

“See here’s where you’re wrong, bitch”, Victor replied, grunting in pleasure everytime his length sunk in Logan’s welcoming body. “From now on your body is mine. You got this? Everything about it is my fucking business. Including how many cocks have been and will be in it”.

Logan felt a wave of terror overcome him, realizing that the man had not intended that to be a one-time thing. He could have handled that, could have forced himself to forget that humiliation and make sure to avoid getting too close to Victor’s path in order to not repeat the experience, having learned his lesson. But that was not what that bastard wanted, oh no, he wouldn’t be content with shaming him in front of everyone.

Victor was marking his territory in front of them, showing them that he owned him and no one else was to fuck with him in either sense of the word, not without his permission.

“Screw you, Creed! I’ll never be yours”, Logan hissed, gasping when he felt one of the other’s arms slip under his neck and force him into a chokehold.

“Listen up, bitch”, Victor growled, his voice low and threatening. “I can make your life here a whole lot worse” - his hips moved frantically as the man sped up, fucking him with a crazed frenzy - “You think this is bad? Oh, but this is nothing, nothing compared to what it could be like” - his teeth sunk into Logan’s shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood and making him fear he’d just tear off a piece of his skin before he let go, - “You can be my bitch, and I’ll make sure that no one else but me touches you as long as you behave. Or, you can refuse, and I can watch as everyone else here fucks you until shower time’s over… then we can bring this to your cell, where you will begin your new life as a cum toilet for anyone that feels like stopping by for a fuck.”

Logan froze up, not even thinking of the pain anymore, feeling the man’s grasp relax just enough to allow him to breathe but he still felt like he was out of air. It was just an empty threat, he told himself. He couldn’t really do that, could he?

“See you’re not the type guys here go for but you’ve pissed off plenty of people already with your attitude, so they’ll come and fuck you out of spite”, Victor continued, his voice practically vibrating with sadistic glee. “Some will come just for the thrill of being able to say they’ve fucked the Wolverine in the ass. And some, well, some will be fine as long as they get to stick their dick in a warm hole”.


He wasn’t bluffing. He could tell that son of a bitch would really do all that, purely to have the satisfaction of watching him suffer.

“Of course I will also keep fucking you everyday, and I will make sure to make it as painful and hard for you as possible”, Victor assured him, pulling himself all the way out and then thrusting all the way in as if to drive his point home, drawing a hoarse scream out of Logan’s sore throat. “I wonder, how long will you last?”

Logan was shaking again, but this time not from the pain as much as from the terror that those words had arisen in him. He couldn’t play tough anymore, who could he fool? There was no way he would be able to take it. He was going to break, hell, he was going to fucking die, and all because that psychotic, sadistic freak couldn’t take no for an answer.

As if that had been the cue the other was waiting for all along, Victor finally came inside him with one last powerful thrust, clenching his thighs against his as if to keep him from moving.

Not that he needed to, since Logan seemed to have resigned himself to his fate – at least for the time being.

“I guess if you’ve got nothing going on for you out there, nothing worth staying alive for, might as well let yourself get fucked to death”, Victor said, before pulling out and letting a mixture of his own come and Logan’s blood flow out of his abused hole.

Those words were the last nail in the coffin. He instantly thought of Kurt. What would his pride be worth if he died a miserable death in prison, anyway?

If he’s gonna fuck me either way…

He didn’t even want to continue that line of thought. A part of him couldn’t believe he would stoop as low as to consider whoring himself out even if it was to save his own skin.

But if it was the only way he would ever see Kurt again...

“So which one of you wants a go first?”, he heard Victor say, and in that moment he realized he had no time to waste.

“Wait!”, he yelled, his voice still hoarse from the screaming.


He could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and it made his stomach roil. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but he had to do it. Not for himself, but for Kurt. He already worried about him having to be on his own for the three years he’d be stuck there, he’d already spent far longer away from him than he ever had and it hadn’t even been one week. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he was capable to fend for himself, but what if something happened while he wasn’t there to protect him? That was already scary enough of a thought, but if he were to never come back to him?

No. He couldn’t even bear to think of it. He had to do this.

“I… I changed my mind” - Logan swallowed hard - “Sir”. The word sounded bitter in his mouth, he spat it out as if he wanted to get it off his tongue as soon as possible.

Victor however didn’t seem to care about his tone. He turned around, and his gloating expression almost made Logan want to go back on his word.

“Not as stupid as I thought”, the other noted, walking back to him and grasping on his arm to pull him up and carry him on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “We’ll finish this talk in my cell”, he added, before giving his ass a loud smack. He laughed as he heard Logan yelp in pain, then ordered his henchmen to stay behind as he left the showers with his prize.

- - -

Once again he found himself defeated and on the verge of collapsing in front of Victor, and once again he refused to admit to it.

“Thought you might last a bit more this time”, Victor noted, licking the blood off from his claws. “I was just starting to enjoy myself”.

Logan didn’t even bother to come up with a snappy comeback, all of his focus was on keeping himself up. Still, after a few moments his legs gave in and he found himself on his knees, arms coming forward to halt his fall.

“I see you remember your place, bitch”, the man mocked him, walking up to him and resting his foot on Logan’s shoulder to keep him down. “Guess some things never change.”

“If ya think I’ll do what you want this time ya can fuck right off”, Logan growled, raising one arm to try and cut off his leg with his already unsheathed claws, but Victor sent him flying against the nearest wall with a powerful kick.

The impact knocked the wind out of him, and for a few moments he struggled to remain conscious. His head was pounding both from the fever and the injuries, his whole body a pulsing mass of pain and anger, but the anger had already started to give way to fear.

Where are the others?

How long had they been fighting? No one else had come to his or to Victor’s aid, which meant they had to be busy somewhere.

Somehow, he had a really bad feeling about it…

“Ah, I think we’re about done”, Victor said, glancing at the door behind him where the cargo was hidden.

As if he’d been waiting for that, the door opened and one aeropirate came out of it.

“We’re ready to bring it over, boss”, the man said, then his gaze turned to Logan and his lips spread into a leering grin. “My my, fancy seeing you again bitch!”.

Logan felt his blood run cold, his mind recalling a flashback of that same voice above him as he kneeled down before him, his lips wrapped around the man’s cock.

Man you really must have pissed him off, the boss doesn’t usually like sharing. Well, not that I’m complaining, ahahah!”.

He pushed the memory out of his mind, not only because he didn’t wish to recall any of that but because there was a much more pressing urge at hand.

The cargo room was open. It wasn’t supposed to be open. It never had been open before, and the only person in possession of the key was Captain Russell, so that meant-

“Bring that Merc here, Slade”, Victor said, interrupting Logan’s train of thoughts.

“Sure boss!”, Slade replied, heading back to the door to yell at its current occupants. “Hey guys, bring that freak over!”.

He didn’t have to wonder for long if his intuition had been correct. As two other men got out of the room, carrying a visibly injured and tied up Kurt, Logan felt his heart sink.

“Logan!”, Kurt immediately yelled, shocked to see him in such a state. “You pirate bastards! You will pay for this!”

“Feisty one, isn’t he?”, Slade commented, before hitting the blue-skinned man with a suckerpunch.

“Don’t touch him!”, Logan growled, trying to get back on his feet and failing miserably. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Oh no, I’m trembling with fear!”, Victor mocked him, making his henchmen snicker. “Well, I’ve had some fun and I think my men are all ready to bring the cargo to our airship, which means our visit must come to an end. So long, runt!”

“What do we do with the rest of the crew?”, Slade asked, in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer.

“You know the rules. No witnesses”, Victor replied, then he looked down at Kurt who was still staring at Logan with huge worried eyes. “We can take this one, though. I think we could have some fun with him. I wonder for how long he can keep up his attitude...”.

“NO!”, Logan screamed, managing to force himself up for long enough to take a step forward, before collapsing down in front of the enemy. He ignored the raucous laughter that followed it, ignored his wounded pride and his pain and everything else that wasn’t the need to save Kurt.

He knew what had to be done. Knew it even before Victor looked at him and grinned like the cat that ate the canary, long before the question could even be asked. He hated himself for it but he knew he’d do it, because he would not allow his stupid pride to stop him from protecting his beloved friend.

“So you can still move. Impressive”, Victor said, crouching down to have a closer look. “What’s the matter, bitch? Are you jealous? Missing your old life, I see.”

“Don’t… don’t hurt my friend. Let him go”, Logan said, forcing himself to continue. “Please… Sir”.

Victor’s grin grew even wider, his bloodied fangs glistening in the light of the lanterns.

“And why would I do that?”.

Logan swallowed hard. He didn’t dare to look at Kurt, didn’t dare to see the look on his face in that moment.

“Take me instead”.

“No! Logan n-mmpf!”. Kurt’s protests were quickly halted by Slade’s hand clasping on his mouth, albeit just a moment later the man jumped away with a scream.

“Ow! You fucking bit me!”. He punched him again, and Logan couldn’t hold back from growling but his focus remained on the man in front of him, who was making a big show of pretending to think hard about his proposal.

You fucking bastard, I already know you’ll say yes. I know you did it on purpose. Just fucking accept already!

He would accept. He had to.


“I see, this must be the famous guy who fucked you before I did”, Victor said. “And you’re willing to sacrifice yourself for him. How touching!”

Logan didn’t say anything, anxious about what the other might say or do. He wouldn’t put it past him to kill Kurt and take him with him anyway, or fuck him in front of Kurt and then kill his friend. He was starting to regret his outburst, what if he had doomed him instead of saving him? He shouldn’t have let that bastard know how much his companion meant to him...

“I’d hate to keep you lovebirds apart. So how about this: if you join my ranks again, and all of your duties,” - and the suggestive tone he used for the last word left no doubt over what he meant by that - “your friend will live, and I swear I won’t lay a hand on him”.

Logan narrowed his eyes, staring at him with suspicion.

“I don’t trust you, Creed”.

“Well too fucking bad you’ve got no other choice!”


He was right.

Logan sheated his claws, lowering his head down to the ground. He could feel Kurt’s muffled protests, his mouth now silenced with a makeshift gag. He didn’t know if he would hate him after that, but he had no other choice. He’d sworn to himself he’d protect him since he saw that scrawny blue kid get beaten up for a few scraps of food. He wasn’t going to go back on that as long as he lived.

He would do anything in his power to save his friend. He could only wish it would be enough this time.

“As you command, sir”.

[to be continued...]