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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...]


Chapter Text


- twelve years earlier-

“Good morning, runt.”

The huge blond towered over him, grinning from ear to ear and staring down at him as if he was undressing him with his eyes.

Logan felt a cold shiver run up his spine, still he got up from his bed to face the intruder, even if that didn't make a whole lot of difference. Victor's near-inhuman size still meant he had to look up to meet his eyes.

“Good morning... sir.” He spat out the last word as if it was a piece of rotten food stuck to his tongue. No matter how much time had passed, he still always had to force himself to say it.

Luckily for him, Victor only laughed in response.

“Ya know what I want, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Logan fell on his knees before the other could even utter the order, trying to ignore the man's snickering as Victor's massive cock was freed from his pants and pushed against Logan's face.

Two more years, Logan told himself. Only two more years, then he'd be free. Free to get away from that bastard and that god-forsaken place.

Free to finally see Kurt again. It was the only thing keeping him forward.

That, and the booze.

Until then, he had to service Victor in whatever way the other saw fit, which in that moment included sucking him off.

As his lips wrapped around the other's massive erection, he had to hold back the urge to chomp down and bite on it, knowing it would only lead to worse consequences. Victor had already proved to him that he was more than capable to make his life a living hell there, he didn't need any more demonstrations. That was why, instead of trying to bite his cock off he licked and sucked on it, swirling his tongue around the tip and massaging his balls with one of his free hands while Victor grasped on his hair.

“Aah, yeah, that's- fuck, that's pretty good, runt!” Victor groaned, moving his hips to push himself inside his throat, which he started fucking with a rough and fast pace. “Ohh yeah bitch, that's the spot! Keep going!”

The first times Logan had thrown up or passed out whenever Victor had tried that, unable to fit the whole thing in his throat as his body forcefully tried to reject the foreign insertion. Of course, the other man had always used that as an excuse to beat him and fuck his ass instead, commenting that if nothing else at least he was already lubed up.

“Took ya one whole year but you finally learned to give decent head, huh. Should've gotten more practice with that little boyfriend of yours out there.”

The mention of Kurt made Logan tense up but he tried to mask it, much like he masked his disgust once Victor pulled back and filled his mouth with his semen, ordering him to open his mouth to show it to him before telling him to swallow. He always did that, most likely just to further Logan's humiliation.

“Tsk, what boyfriend? I've fucked around plenty before ending up here,” Logan finally replied once his mouth was empty and his body had stopped shivering from the disgust. Not from the act or even the taste per se as much as from the fact that it was Victor's cum he was being forced to swallow.

He'd never minded it with Kurt, he'd never thought any part of him was disgusting, but he hated the blond so much that the smell of his cock alone seemed vile to him, even when he made him suck him off in the showers while everyone else watched and often jerked off to the show. Sometimes Victor even allowed them to cover Logan in their cum, laughing as the smaller man clenched his fists and shook in anger and shame while holding back from tearing off every single one of those brutes' cocks, forcing himself to thank them instead and silently hoping that he would be allowed to wash it of before getting out of there.

“Then whoever you've fucked around with must've been pretty small. Bet they're gonna be disappointed once ya get outta here and can't even feel shit from their pathetic excuse of a cock!” Victor said with a cruel laugh, making Logan's face heat up as he tried to suppress the urge to punch him right in his damn smug face.

If there was something he hated more than having to suck Victor off or being fucked by him was the way his own body had started to grow accustomed to the man's size and to his harsh treatment. It had been bad enough to realize he could feel pleasure from someone other than Kurt, but what was worse was that Victor soon discovered he had a thing for being roughed up and hurt during sex.

It filled him with immense shame but there was even a small part of him that felt a thrill from the name-calling he got from Victor and whoever else was watching, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop his own arousal from growing nor his orgasms to feel even more intense as Victor whispered in his ear how much of a shameless little bitch he was to moan so loudly while being pounded hard by his cock. Sometimes the bastard even dragged him to the edge of the cell, pushing him against the bars so that his cries would be heard by everyone around them and his hard, precum-leaking cock would be peeking through the bars, fully visible by all of the nearby cells as well as any guards making rounds. And even then, the leering jeers coming from those brutes always fuelled his arousal, making him cum so hard he screamed his lungs out as his head turned blank for an entire minute.

It made him feel even more guilty, the few times that Victor left him to his own devices and he could allow himself to drop the rebellious façade and sit by himself in a corner, often with the company of a few beers or any other sort of alcohol that had been sneaked in thanks to a little bit of corruption and underhand favours. Victor had his ways to get the guards to turn a blind eye to his wrongdoings, which was something that Logan learned very soon.

Another thing he was quick to learn was that if he was going to be exploited by Victor either way, he might as well use his own body to earn a few things that made his life in there easier.

Booze might not have solved his problems but at least it helped him deal with the chaos in his mind. It helped him quiet the creeping sense of guilt that whispered maliciously in his ear, taunting him and noting that for being an unwilling participant he sure seemed to react awfully easily to Victor's touch. That his hole would already start twitching as soon as the larger man pulled down his pants and slammed him against the nearest surface, and his nipples would harden even just from feeling the other's teeth grazing his neck; that his cock would often be weeping even before one of those large hands closed around it and started stroking him fast and hard, at the same rhythm as his thrusts, whenever Victor was feeling generous enough to jerk him off at least.

Most of all, it helped him feel warmer when he thought back to Kurt and he felt cold and weak without his warm and reassuring embrace. He missed him terribly, much more than he allowed himself to admit - and not just because most of the other inmates didn't bother to get too close to him in fear of getting their face clawed off by Victor or simply due to his own unfriendly attitude.

Kurt was the only true friend he ever had, the only one who'd always been with him no matter what, and he felt so foolish now, to think that he once believed nothing could ever keep them apart and that if any such force existed he would punch the hell out of it until it stopped bothering them.

The more he missed him the more he felt guilty for having gotten himself in that situation, all because he couldn't keep his hands to himself and mind his own damn business for once. He just had to piss off the wrong guy and go too far with his intent to "teach him a lesson” Thankfully the bastard lived, but he just so happened to have enough connections to make sure Logan would pay for humiliating him like that.

If only he'd stopped himself sooner, or if he'd listened to Kurt and alerted the guards rather than dealing with the guy on his own... but he'd seen him approach that girl, he'd seen him not take no for an answer and become increasingly aggressive, had felt the danger in the air, and his hands had moved before he could even think.

By the time the guards came, the girl was nowhere to be seen and the only direct eyewitness to the whole incident had been Kurt. However, his demonic appearance and his known affiliation with Logan meant that his word was eventually dismissed, and then out of nowhere a suspicious number of witnesses came out to confirm the man's version and testify that Logan had attacked him out of nowhere, jumping out from the dark like a ferocious beast.

Kurt had looked devastated, and Logan had felt the sorrow and regret in his voice, had known that he was blaming himself not only for not having been able to convince the jury but also for having stopped him when Logan had initially meant to run off from the scene once the man was knocked out cold.

"You did the right thing. He might have been badly injured, he might have even been dead, and you couldn't know things would turn out this way,” he'd told him before he was dragged off to his destination. He might have been scared and angry but none of it was directed at Kurt, and he needed him to know he didn't blame him and wouldn't resent him for his current fate.

In the end, it turned out that all that it took to keep them apart was a drunk asshole with a heavy wallet and a relative involved in politics. He almost wanted to laugh at his past self for thinking otherwise.

What was Kurt doing out there, without him? Was he also thinking of him, maybe also in front of a beer, hopefully while in a much more befitting venue? Did he miss him in the same way as Logan missed him? Was he also feeling alone and unwhole, as if half of his heart had been ripped out of his chest leaving a gaping wound that never quite seemed to heal nor to stop aching?

And if not... was there someone else with him, now that he couldn't be there, someone who would take his place and console him in his absence? Someone who would touch him like he used to, look at him in the same way, and protect him while Logan couldn't?

The thought filled him with resentment, and as much as he worried about Kurt feeling alone he didn't want him to find someone else, someone who would take his place. He didn't want him to forget about him, to laugh and drunkenly stumble while holding onto someone else's shoulder, to whisper into someone else's ear about how he could not wait long enough for them to get in their room so they better find a dark alley before he pounced him right there, right then.

And yet once again that malicious voice slithered back to whisper to him that he had no right to be jealous, that there he was spreading his legs for Victor every day like a common whore and yet he had the gall to blame Kurt if he happened to find consolation in someone else's embrace? That he'd have to be grateful if Kurt even wanted him back once he got out, if he'd ever be willing to touch the body that had been marred by Victor in every sense - the man had even carved a permanent mark into his back with his sharp claws and a special substance to prevent it from fully healing, branding him as one of his own.

What would Kurt say if he knew about what Victor made him do? Not only about how he made him submit to him and spread himself open for his cock, or how he made him beg to let him suck him off like a cockstarved slut, but also about how he ordered him to do his dirty work for him.

Threatening those who didn't want to do as Victor said, and using his fists when his words alone weren't enough to convince them. Beating up those who wronged his "Master,” including simply looking at him the wrong way if Victor was in a particularly bad mood. On a few notable occasions, even holding down another unwilling newcomer as Victor and his men had their way with him.

He'd felt incredibly disgusted with himself the first time that happened, and Victor had greatly enjoyed hearing him weep that night, breaking down like he'd never done before in front of him.

From then on, he would always grit his teeth and beg for Victor to fuck him instead, and the first time it had worked, but afterwards Victor had already gotten bored with that and insisted on having him do as he was asked or else. And as long as it was merely a punishment, Logan would rather take it than help Victor have his way with some unfortunate terrified guy, but when Victor threatened to discard him and turn him into an easily disposable fucktoy for everyone to use until he'd break, he was left with no choice. Not if he wanted to see Kurt ever again.

And yet, would Kurt even want to see him, if he ever learned of the price someone else had to pay?

Logan didn't have an answer to that question, and he was too afraid to let his mind linger on it, so he drowned all of his pain and his loneliness and guilt with beer until he was too drunk to even think clearly.

Usually he would wake up back into his cell, once either Victor or one of the guards had dragged his unconscious ass to bed. Sometimes he would wake up to Victor fucking him, and those were the times where he cried and begged for it to end and the other man taunted him mercilessly, until he was left alone with his face drenched in tears and his ass full of cum.

Sometimes, however, Victor was in a strange mood. In those occasions he would join him, and he would drink with him without a word, making Logan feel on edge as he awaited something, anything from him. A snide remark, a leering comment, a threat, an order, anything.

Yet the other man merely shared his own booze with him and then barked at him to get back in their cell once the last bottle had been emptied.

On one such occasion, Logan had been feeling so miserable and self-hating that he no longer cared about what would become of him, his eyes glazed and unfocused as he stared out of the window, watching the familiar landscape without really seeing it.

When Victor had joined him he had tensed up, but once he realized the other wasn't about to drag him back to their cell – or simply the closest and more convenient place – to fuck him, he felt his fear slowly give way to frustration, which only fuelled his misery.

“How come you ain't gotten tired of fucking the same hole yet?” he spat out, knowing that it was unwise to provoke him, but in that state he couldn't bring himself to care.

“If I did, runt, you'd become dog food,” Victor replied with a shrug and a smirk, his amber eyes glinting even in the faint, slowly disappearing light coming from the window. “Plus, ya know, there's a reason if I was drawn to you. It ain't just because you're strong.”

Logan scoffed, downing more of his beer and glancing at him for a moment before looking outside again. Watching as a zeppelin slowly departed somewhere in the distance. There had to be a port nearby, hidden behind the taller buildings. He always saw them come and go from there.

Maybe, one day, Kurt would be sitting in one of them as he left the city.

Maybe he already did, he thought grimly as he felt a weird lump in his throat, the corners of his eyes prickling with tears that he didn't want to spill in front of his tyrant.

“You and I, Logan, we're not like the rest of this scum,” Victor said, and it was so rare for him to actually use his name that Logan couldn't help but glance back again. “There's something more to us. There's always been.”

Logan didn't know what he meant. All he knew was that the last thing he wanted was to have anything in common with that bastard. To have even more reasons to feel too ashamed to face Kurt again.

“I'd heard of ya, the Wolverine. All bark and no bite, that was what I first thought when they said you'd get thrown in here! Get those claws off and that's the end of the fearsome Mercenary,” Victor snickered to himself, before taking a long sip. “But that ain't it. I could smell it as soon as you walked in here.”

Logan shifted uncomfortably, making a point to avoid looking at him again.

“You've been treated like a monster yer whole life, haven't ya? By the same kinda people yer now working to protect. Ain't that a riot?” Victor laughed again, but this time there was a bitter note to it.

The silence fell again between them. It lasted only a few moments, but it still felt incredibly heavy to Logan, to the point when he was trying to think of an excuse to walk away before Victor spoke again.

“You know they've been whispering behind yer back. They fear ya, they fear yer strength, yer unnatural healing factor, the fact that you can smell danger when it comes for ya.”

Logan's jaw tightened. He didn't need him to tell him that. He knew it far too well. It might not have been as obvious as with Kurt, but anyone who'd been around him long enough would know that there was something almost inhuman to it, something that wasn't quite right. He'd been trying to keep it in the past, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt to remember.

“Those of us who make it through, they drift together. And when some smartass comes to recruit ya 'cus yer skills are useful to protect their shit, seems like a fair deal at first. Ask any fucking Merc, they'll tell ya the same story. Funny how that works.”

Victor chucked darkly, and Logan brought his bottle to his lips, only to find out it was empty and let it fall on the ground, where it rolled around away from him. Victor glanced at him before handing him what was left of his own bottle, and Logan hesitated before accepting it, as if fearing it might be some sort of trick.

“But ya see, it doesn't hav'ta be like that.” Victor continued, glancing out of the window and stretching out his hand towards it. “Why sell yerself short when you could be taking all that you want, whenever ya want? That's the kinda life we deserve. Not to be slaving off, serving those same bastards who'd gladly spit on us once our back's turned.” He closed his hand into a fist and slammed it against the thick glass, so hard that a small crack appeared in it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan could see a guard moving further away from them. Any other prisoner would have gotten a beating for pulling that stunt, but it seemed not even them dared to touch Victor Creed. Not unless they really had to.

That show of bravado irritated him for some reason, so he emptied his second bottle and sneered.

“And yet there you are, stuck here with the rest of us mortals.”

He felt a short bout of satisfaction at that, at least until Victor's grin widened rather than turning into an angry snarl. The taller man moved in closer towards him, grasping on his shoulder and leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“Trust me, runt, I could walk straight outta here if I wanted to. But I ain't in a rush to get back out there. As long as I'm in here they're gonna keep their guard low, gonna think everyone's abandoned ship as soon as they got their hand on the big fish.” Victor said in a conspiratorial tone. “But my pals, they're all waiting out there. All I need to do is to give them my instructions and I'll be out of here in a dash” He chuckled again, right against Logan's ear, which made a warm shiver run down his spine. “Ya know, when that happens, you might also be out there with me. I need guys like ya in my crew. Could use yer abilities to make a killing.”

Logan stared at him, eyes wide open in surprise, and he couldn't lie – for a brief second he almost considered his offer. Then he remembered about everything that Victor had made him do up until then, and his expression hardened, ocean blue eyes narrowing in a cold glare.

“My abilities are to protect other people. Protect them from bastards like ya.”

Normally, that sort of insult would cost him dearly. This time, however, Victor's only reaction was to let out a loud derisive snort.

“They're not your people, and ya know it”

Logan clenched his fists, turning so that he could fully face him as he responded.

“I'll never be a part of your crew, Creed.”

Victor didn't seem to pay any mind to his defiance, in fact it looked like the angrier Logan got the more his amusement grew.

“Yer friend could join us too. Ya know, the one you keep calling for in your sleep. Name's Kurt, right?” Victor casually mentioned, making Logan's heart skip a beat. “He's the one who took your first, isn't he?”

Logan opened his mouth to retort, but could think of nothing to say that would not make the situation even worse. The last thing he wanted was for Victor to know about Kurt. He could handle whatever the bastard threw at him, but he'd better keep his claws away from his Elf.

“Fuck off,” he finally snapped, turning around so he could walk away from him. He knew he couldn't actually get away, if the other wanted he could have followed him anywhere in that damn place, but in that moment he didn't care. He needed to walk away before he said or did anything too stupid.

“You'll change your mind,” Victor shouted at him, laughing even harder than before. “And when ya do I'll be there, ready to accept yer apologies!”

Logan started walking faster, eager to put enough distance between them to be unable to hear his voice.

Still, the last thing he heard before then would keep echoing in his head even long after he'd gotten away.

“Sooner or later, whether you're still rotting in here or whether you've ran back to yer pal, I'll be back for you, Logan!” Victor had concluded. “And that is a promise”

--- * ---

Logan woke up with a startle, groaning when he noticed that his arms were chained up above his head. Needless to say, his gauntlets and the rest of his armour were also gone. In fact he was fully naked aside from the chains that held him up against the wall.

Just when he'd almost been glad to wake up from the nightmares of his past, he realized that they'd unfortunately caught up with him

Victor really had made good on his promise. He should have known. If there was one thing the bastard was surprisingly good at, that was keeping his word.

As he tried to struggle against his restraints, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side. Looking down at his bandaged torso, he was suddenly reminded of his injury and everything that followed.

He didn't remember when he'd collapsed, but it had to be after he'd finished taking care of Victor's first order.

No witnesses.

He clenched his teeth. At least Kurt had already been taken to the enemy ship at that point, together with Captain Russell – Logan had been surprised to learn he'd been kept alive, but apparently it had something to do with the nature of the cargo.

Still, he'd been travelling with that crew for well over a month. He could not forget the look of betrayal on their face, the terror and the anger and the scorn as each of them cursed him and uselessly tried to charge at him, ran away from him as fast as their legs could carry them before he managed to push them in a corner, or kneeled down and begged for their life as soon as they realized he was coming for them.

He hadn't even been able to say he was sorry, nor to beg for their forgiveness. He didn't deserve such a thing.

All the while, he kept telling himself he had no choice. He couldn't allow that monster to lay his claws on Kurt. He knew all-too-well what Creed was capable of, he'd experienced it on his own skin, and he knew that Kurt would not last as long as he had. Not even close. The only reason he hadn't died in that prison had been his near-inhuman ability to recover from injuries and possibly the fact that Victor felt some sort of twisted attachment towards him, causing him to hold back from breaking his toy.

No, he had to make sure Kurt would be safe. Speaking of which, the fact that he could not hear nor see him was already making him feel nervous. Had he been too naïve, believing that Victor would really spare Kurt if he willingly came with him and accepted to become part of his crew? But he'd seen them carry him out and when he went on deck his corpse had been nowhere to be found, so he had to be on Creed's airship.

Unless he'd been thrown overboard...

Logan shook his head. No, he could not allow himself to think like that! Kurt was alive, most likely scared and concerned and chained up somewhere but alive, and he was going to find him. He just had to get out of there first so that he could get to it.

He struggled against the chains again, gritting his teeth and ignoring the pain in his abdomen even as a red stain slowly blossomed in his bandages in the spot where he'd been stabbed.

'Just' had to get out there, hah! Easier said than done.

By the time the brass door was unlocked and opened, he was panting heavily and his whole body was drenched in sweat, while his arms were covered in bruises and scratches from scraping against the chains.

“Nice to see yer already up, runt. I asked one of my men to patch you up and give you something for that fever. Guess that was why you were so damn weak, huh.” Victor greeted him, his boots clicking against the wooden floor. “Would've liked to fight ya square and fair, but it's not like that'd've changed the result much.”

Logan glared at him, barely holding back from spitting in his face. He reminded himself he couldn't afford to anger him, not when he still didn't know anything about Kurt's fate.

“Where's Kurt?,” he asked, unable to hide the urgency in his tone. It was useless to bluff at this point, Victor was not so stupid as to not to realize how much he cared for the Elf after he'd been willing to sacrifice his own freedom for him. And as dangerous as that knowledge was in the wrong hands, it still meant that Victor would not dare to get rid of the other Merc as long as he knew he could use him to manipulate Logan and keep him obedient.

At least, that was what Logan hoped.

“That blue guy? He's in the other cells, together with yer former captain,” Victor explained, lips curving up in a small grin. “Yer in my own, private cell. So that I can keep a close eye on ya, in case ya try to pull anything stupid.”

Logan let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, feeling some of the tension leave his body. So Kurt was alive, unless Victor was lying. But he didn't think he was. If the bastard had wanted to kill his friend he'd have made sure to do it in front of him, so that Logan could watch and suffer through every moment of it.

He almost let out a nervous laugh. It had been a literal decade since he last saw the other, still he knew him far better than he'd have wanted to. And what was even worse was that Victor knew him just as well.

As he was thinking that, Victor's hand moved to rest over the blood-and-sweat soaked bandages and pressed down on it, hard enough to make him grimace but Logan still managed to hold back a pained groan.

“Are ya tryin' to bleed yerself out or what?” Victor asked, his tone firmer and his voice lowering into a threatening growl. “Don't forget, if you die I can always let yer pal learn the joy of sucking cock. Though something tells me he might've gotten some practice already.”

The perverted, knowing smirk on Victor's face sent shivers down Logan's spine. He wanted to insult him but he bit his tongue, knowing he had to be very careful of what he said if he didn't want Kurt to pay for it.

“No need to, sir.” The word still sounded bitter on his tongue, but he forced himself to grin and bear it. “I know my place.”

“You'd best remember it then,” Victor hissed, his eyes narrowing and his claws sinking past the bandages and grazing Logan's skin underneath, making him tense up in concern.

Logan was all too aware of the fact that the other man could easily rip out his guts if he so wished, and he would be unable to do anything but watch and bleed out. He felt so powerless and vulnerable, tied up like that and knowing he was at his mercy, and he could do nothing at all to stop him if he decided he'd gotten tired of him after all.

Thankfully, after a few moment's time Victor seemed to decide he'd intimidated him enough and pulled his hand away, pushing a bloodied thumb past Logan's lips and looking down at him with an intense expression.

The shorter man glared at him for a split second, but he knew what the other wanted and he knew better than to challenge him. Reluctantly, his tongue darted out to lick the blood off his finger, doing the same with each one as Victor pushed them one by one into his mouth, before licking the remaining blood off his palm.

“I'll be back for dinner. 'Till then, make sure to stay put and heal up, ya won't get much rest once the training starts,” Victor warned him, walking away and leaving him alone in his cell.

Once he was sure the other was gone, Logan spat on the floor to try and get rid of the taste lingering in his mouth. It was metallic and salty, and in that moment Logan was sure that was what defeat would taste like.

He had to get out of there in some way, but first he had to find a way to get Kurt. Something he couldn't do if he didn't heal and was still weakened by the time he was allowed out of that cell. Which meant that, as much as he hated the idea, he had to do as Victor said and don't overexert himself.

It was useless anyway. If he'd been able to get out of those chains, they would at least have loosened by then. Unfortunately for him, they seemed even thicker than normal chains. Probably wouldn't have budged even if he wasn't sick and injured. That bastard had been planning this, he was sure of it. He wanted to make him pay for it. But as for now, he could only wait and hope he would get a better chance.

Had he been a man of faith he'd have prayed – he was sure that Kurt had to be praying. The thought brought a bitter smile to his lips. For sure, even in such a situation his friend would hold on to his faith. No matter how bad things were, Kurt was not the type to lose hope in the fact that there was a plan for everyone and God would not abandon them to their misery.

Logan himself did not believe, but he always found Kurt's confidence in a power above somewhat comforting. Even in the darkest of nights, the other man was like a brimming light.

Well, he could only hope that he was right, cause in that moment? Logan was sure that own personal Hell was only about to begin.


There was almost no light in those cells, which was to be expected as there were no windows, but as always Kurt was able to see fairly well in the dark.

He was being kept inside a small metal cell which looked almost more like a cage, his arms chained behind his back and his tail restrained against his body.

Right in front of him, close enough that he could touch him if he just stretched out his leg, was the semi-unconscious figure of Captain Russell. His face was swollen up and bruised, bleeding from the cuts in his lips and on his cheeks and temple, but he was still wearing his uniform. Well, except for his ornate hat, which had probably gotten knocked off as he was beat up, so his long hair was left uncovered. It used to be tied in a neat ponytail but several strands had since slipped free and were sticking to his face or sticking out in random directions.

“Captain? Sir? Can you hear me?” Kurt tried to call out for him, glancing around nervously to see if anyone was there to keep an eye on them. It seemed like they were alone, but he wasn't sure of how long that would last. “Captain Russell?”

His foot touched one of the other man's legs, but the captain did nothing but twitch in his slumber. At least he was alive, but for how long? Kurt was worried his injuries might be worse than they looked. He'd seen those bastards try to torture him, but the man had refused to talk. Eventually they found his key and forcefully unlocked the door that would lead them to the cargo, but Captain Russell would not say a word on its content nor its use, not even when they had started burning cigarettes on his arms.

If only he could get him to wake up... but no matter what, the man showed no sign of regaining consciousness, even when Kurt purposefully pressed his foot against his broken ankle.

At that point it was clear that nothing he could do would have the desired effect, so Kurt gave up on that and sighed, letting his back rest against the cold metal bars. The chains were too strong for him to hope to be able to break them, and he might have been able to pick the lock with the tip of his tail but it seemed that their captors had expected that.

The worst thing was he hadn't seen Logan since he'd been dragged away from their airship, after his friend had kneeled in front of the aeropirates' leader and offered himself up to save him.

It didn't take a genius to understand that the two knew each other, from the way that the pirate had spoken to Logan and the way his partner had answered as well. And since Kurt had known nothing of it and Logan was not the type to befriend such a ruthless criminal, the only explanation was that the two men had met in prison.

Kurt's heart felt heavy at that realization. Logan didn't like to talk about his imprisonment, the mere mention of it was often enough to sour his mood so he'd always made a point to avoid the argument, even if deep down he'd wished Logan would confide to him.

He knew there was something that the other man was struggling with, something that he was keeping from him, and he didn't want to force him but he could feel that it still haunted him, sometimes. The only thing he could do was to pray that one day Logan would be ready to talk and relieve himself of his burden, and to make sure to let him know that he'd always be willing to listen.

Yet, after hearing what Victor had said, he had the most horrible feeling about it.

He remembered how twitchy Logan had been right after getting out of prison. How he hadn't let him touch him or see him naked for what felt like forever. How he'd sometimes try to make love to him only to have to stop himself, because sometimes there would be something small that Kurt said or did that caused him to tense up and shake in his arms as if he'd been thrown into a freezing bath. How he'd never been able to take Kurt's cock again without having the same reaction.

Kurt was not naïve enough not to know what could cause that, not to know what could happen to a newcomer on in a prison where the worst sort of criminals were thrown in together. He'd always had his suspicions about what might have happened to him, but he'd never had the guts to breach the subject, out of fear that Logan would feel humiliated and angry if he knew that he could tell. That no matter how much he'd been desperately trying to hide it from him, it only made it all the more obvious.

To think that someone like Victor might have been the cause for Logan's suffering... Kurt felt his ears ring as his whole body shook in anger. And the thought that such a monstrous man might now be tormenting his partner only made it worse, until he was thrashing against his restraints and screaming loudly, furious and frustrated by his own uselessness.

If only he hadn't been captured before Logan, he knew that the other would never have given in so easily to a criminal's demands! He was supposed to always be there, guarding his partner's back, but that bastard had managed to use their bond against them.

If only he hadn't been so stubborn and had been more patient with him- he knew that he got cranky when he was sick, he knew he hadn't meant it, he shouldn't have left him alone!

“Hey, you! Cut it out!”

The harsh voice of one of his captors pulled him out of his musings, but rather than calming down he snarled and thrashed even harder against the chains.

“Verdammter Scheißkerl! Let me go! Let me fucking- Aah!

He screamed out in pain as the man's gloved hand grasped on his shoulder, a powerful electric shock coursing through his body for what felt like an eternity before the man mercifully let go of him.

“If you're gonna make a ruckus for no good reason I'll fucking give you one,” the man threatened, glaring at him and snapping his fingers, making sparks fly between them. “Remember that for next time.”

“Don't just start playing with the prisoner on your own,” a female voice remarked, her owner soon walking out of the shadows with a leering grin, her figure hugged by a form-fitting corset.

There was a hint of lust in her voice that he really did not like, and when she leaned down and grasped on his chin to force him to look up he grimaced as he saw her lick her lips as if she'd just seen a delicious meal, her artificial eye scanning him in a way that made him feel as if she could see right through him.

“I'm not playing with him, and neither will you. Not until the big man says otherwise,” the other man scoffed, but she did not seem to care.

“You should feel honoured, buddy. The only way for a Merc to get on our airship is when someone proves himself worthy of joining our crew,” the woman said, tightening her grasp on Kurt's chin until he almost felt his jaw pop out of place. She was a lot stronger than she looked. “You must be special.”

Kurt swallowed hard. He'd battled a few normal humans before getting subdued, but it seemed like there were a lot more like them under Creed's command. Were they all ex-Mercs? If not, how did he find them? And most importantly, how were they going to escape if they had to battle against such strong enemies?

There had been four Mercs on their airships, and of all of them, one had been killed and two captured, while he had no idea of what happened to Rahne. If she was not there, she most likely had died on the ship. Regardless, that was the most Mercs he'd seen on one vessel and it still hadn't been enough to defeat Creed's crew.

“Come on, Emeraude,” the man said, crouching down next to the collapsed captain and giving him a small shock, as if to check if he was just faking it. "Let's go and report to Creed, I don't think these two will be going anywhere anytime soon."

The man let out a high-pitched laugh, while Emeraude reluctantly let go of Kurt's face before following him outside and locking the door, leaving the two prisoners alone in the near-pitch black darkness.

"Wait!” Kurt tried to call out for them but it was too late.

With a small sigh, he brought a hand to his sore chin and stroked it, moving his jaw to check that everything was fine with it. He cursed himself for wasting his chance, he should have asked about Logan while he still could. Now he would have to wait for someone to get in there again.

Surely they would eventually have to send someone to feed them, and to take care of the injured captain, wouldn't they? Assuming they weren't just planning to let them rot in there, that was it. But from what he knew of Creed and his crew, they weren't known for keeping prisoners. If they hadn't killed them both while they were still on their previous airship, there had to be a reason.

Resting his head against the bars, Kurt closed his eyes and focused. Now that the room was silent once again, Kurt realized that he could hear the sound of the airship's engines and cogs, which lead him to realize they were close to the engine room. Probably on the lower part of the airship.

Why wasn't Logan with them? That was what still worried him. It was clear that Creed wanted something from him, and Kurt didn't think that it was merely a matter of - he gritted his teeth at the thought - carnal needs.

Whatever it was, however, he would not find out until he could find Logan himself. He had to trust that he would see him again, and that they would get out of there somehow. He had to have faith and believe that God did not lead him into his companion's arms only to tear them apart in such a cruel fashion.

Still keeping his eyes closed, Kurt moved so that he could kneel down on the cold floor, bowing his head as he started moving his lips into a silent prayer, thanking the Lord for saving his life and pleading him to watch over Logan now that he couldn't be there for him, to not let that monster break him before they could be reunited again, and to help them both have the strength to get through it all.

As he concluded his prayer, Kurt felt a familiar surge of hope and smiled, looking up as if he could see through the rust-stained ceiling of the cell and through the sky above them. He was sure that God would lead the way, like He always did, even in the darkest of times.

Kurt knew that He would not abandon him, and neither would Logan. He just had to have faith.

He just had to wait patiently, and trust that Logan would come back to him in one piece.

Just like he always had.


Logan was stuck in his cell for a whole week, unable to get himself out of there or do much but glare at the door and wait for Victor to come back.

The only reason he knew it had been that long was the fact that there was a window on one side, letting the sunlight fill the room during the day and giving way to the faint moonlight during the night. Also, the fact that Victor would come in twice a day to give him food and medicine.

He was no longer chained up against the wall, but his wrists and ankles were still locked inside heavy metal cuffs. The one time he tried to wait for Victor and ambush him, the man had merely clicked a button and the magnets in the wall and the cuffs were suddenly activated, dragging him against the wall in a spread eagle position.

"I can still make ya spread yer legs on command, huh,” had been Victor's remark, followed by a cruel laugh after Logan shot him his most venomous glare.

His fever was gone within the first day, and the wound in his side had closed itself after two more. When Victor had clawed off the bandages, the skin on top of it was thin and a pale pink, but the hole left by the blade had been fully covered by it.

"Give it a few weeks and it's gonna be as good as new,” Victor had remarked, lightly brushing his claws above it. Logan had barely felt the pressure but he had felt it.

That sort of wound should have left a deep scar, should have been something he carried with him for life, but he knew there would be no trace of it in a few months.

He'd learned not to hate it over time, that ability that set him aside from everyone else and made them think of him as a monster. It had made his life so much easier, and yet it had also been what made his time under Victor's rule so much more unpleasant back when he was stuck with him in prison.

A toy that would never break, that he could play with as roughly as he wanted without worrying of consequences, at least on a physical level. Logan had lost count of the times his limbs had been broken or pulled out of their sockets or clawed open until his bones were showing... it was as if Victor was trying to test the limits of his healing abilities.

Logan had no doubt that he would be subjected to the same tortures again, and probably worse, but so far Victor had barely touched him if not to clean him up or to pat his head as he fed him morsels of food from his hand, as one would do with a dog.

He'd tried to ask about Kurt but once Victor asked him if he really was so eager for him to pay a visit to his friend in a tone that left no doubt about his intentions, Logan had not dared to bring up the subject again.

He'd have to let him out of there, sooner or later. At least he hoped so, cause staying there without anything to do was already starting to drive him insane.

"Could I at least have a book, sir?” he'd asked after the third day, only to immediately regret it when Victor tossed an obscene novel at him the next time, remarking that there was a lot he could learn from it and that he expected him to put it in practice.

At least it had given him something to do, even though whoever had written that atrocious thing seemed to think that it was perfectly normal to yell out the foulest of things in the heat of the moment, making even him feel uncomfortable. If Victor expected him to say any of that shit while he rammed his ass, well, he could forget it.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Victor came into his cell with a leather collar and a padlock to lock it in place, as well as a leash.

"C'mon runt, it's time to meet yer new pals,” Victor had cheerfully announced, putting the collar around his neck and checking that he could still fit two fingers inbetween his skin and the leather before locking it in place. He then attached the leash to the D-ring in the front, then unlocked the cell's door.

Clenching his fists, Logan had forced himself to follow him outside like an obedient little pet, ignoring the jeers of the other crew members as Victor paraded him around through the whole airship, letting everyone gander at him and, with his permission, even touch him freely.

"I remember that ass,” Slade had remarked with a harsh slap, and Logan had been shaking in anger as he held back from punching him in the face.

“Nice legs,” an unknown guy had commented after wolf whistling at him as he passed by, caressing the inside of his thighs, briefly squeezing his cock and then moving to his abs, letting his fingers ghost over the hair on his stomach in a way that made him shiver.

What had humiliated him the most, however, had been when a woman approached him with a sinister grin on her otherwise attractive face, albeit one of her eyes was missing and had been substituted with a mechanical green one that shone like an emerald gem. She'd wasted no time and, as soon as she had Victor's permission, her hands eagerly groped his pecs before pinching and pulling on his nipples, twisting them around and tugging on them, playing with the sensitive nubs until they were hard and sore.

Despite his reluctance, his cock had grown even harder from those attentions and was left standing at full mast, prompting everyone who saw the scene to make lewd comments and remark about how sensitive and eager to be touched he was.

"You still love that, dont'cha” Victor had whispered into his ear, while Logan stared at the ground and bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed, feeling his face burn from the shame. At least he'd managed to be quiet through the whole thing, holding back every single one of the moans that threatened to escape his lips.

Once Victor had paraded him around through the whole ship, he lead him in front of the door of the only part where he hadn't been yet.

"Would you like to say hi to yer friend,” Victor had whispered against his ear, and as much as Logan missed Kurt he'd immediately shook his head, for the thought of being seen in such a shameful state was even worse than enduring another day without him.

Over the course of the day, pretty much every inch of his body had been groped, pinched, slapped, prodded and at times even licked or bitten by what seemed to be every single member of Victor's crew all the while being also subjected to the hungry stares and the filthy comments from everyone else.

And the worst thing was, he was shaking and his breathing was heavy, but not only because of the effort or the fact that he was fully naked. His face and chest were flushed, and it felt as if every single hair on his body was standing upright, every light breeze making his now overly-sensitive body shiver in pleasure. His nipples and his cock felt as hard as diamonds, and there was precum leaking from the small slit, dripping down with every step.

Even his ass ached uncomfortably, after a few well-oiled fingers had slipped inside and started digging around as if they were searching for treasure, stroking his prostate or stimulating the first few sensitive inches of his anus, or merely spreading it open and making all sorts of lewd comments about it. By that point it was twitching in a horribly familiar way, which already was making him fearful of how he would react once Victor decided to stop playing around and actually fucked him.

"You were in such a rush to see yer pal up till the other day, and now ya won't even stop to say hi. What gives?” Victor had teased him, pushing him against the door and forcing him to rest his hands against it in order to hold himself up.

Logan was barely tall enough to see through the porthole, still he could make out the shape of two figures locked inside what seemed like two giant cages. His heart beat even faster at the thought that Kurt was in there, so close and yet so far from his grasp... he would have wanted to run inside and hold him, but how could he show himself to his friend in that state?

Just as he was thinking that, he was suddenly pulled away from his musings once he felt Victor's hands on his ass, grasping on each one of his buttocks and pushing his thumbs at the sides of his entrance to spread it open.

Logan froze. He couldn't... not in front of everyone else there, not in front of Kurt! Even if he couldn't really be seen, what if the other could hear him?

"I think it's about time I remind ya of yer place,” the taller man whispered against his ear, leaning down to do so and also to pin him against the door with his whole body as he pressed his cock against his stretched hole.

It took Logan every ounce of his self control not to scream, biting the inside of his lip and grasping on the edges of the door, clenching his fingers until his knuckles paled.

He tried to brace himself but the pain was intense, far worse than he ever remembered. It had been so long since he had allowed Kurt to fuck him, so his ass was almost as tight as a virgin's.

It just hadn't been the same after what Victor did to him, not because he "couldn't feel anything" from Kurt's cock as Victor had put it, but because it took so little to bring him back to that time, the pleasure mixed in with the guilt and he ended up hating himself, remembering how he'd allowed Victor to use him and how his body had learned to enjoy it. He'd never had the courage to confess to Kurt what he'd been through, he was too ashamed and too scared that the other would resent him somehow, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that the other would never blame him for it, that he'd understand that he did what he had to do to survive.

As bad as the pain he was feeling was, at least it was too much for him to be able to feel pleasure. A meagre consolation, but in that moment he could not help but be glad for it. His ass felt as if it was splitting apart from the violent insertion, and he was sure he was bleeding, but as long as he could cling to the pain and focus on how much he hated it he wouldn't have to worry about feeling pleasure.

At least, that was what he thought until Victor brought a hand between his legs and wrapped it around his softening cock, stroking him with the same slow and steady rhythm he was using to fuck him.

At first his fear and humiliation prevented him from reacting, but much to his horror he found that the longer it went on, the more he was getting used to the feeling of his enemy's cock, as if his body never quite forgot the pleasure he experienced under his rule.

"Nnh! Stop! Don't touch me!” he growled, but he was unable to hide the panic in his voice, and of course the other had no intention to amuse his request.

"Oh yeah? Would ya rather watch me fuck yer friend?” Victor threatened with a cruel laugh. "I've heard he fights like a devil, but I bet his ass feels like heaven.”


Logan tensed up even more, making Victor groan loudly in pleasure as the pressure around his cock increased.

"Then shut yer trap and open wide, whore,” the man practically purred against his ear, sucking and nibbling on his earlobe as his free hand started roaming all over Logan body, fingernails barely brushing against the thick hair on his stomach and chest, sending warm shivers down his spine.

Logan clenched his teeth and cursed inwardly, trying to focus on the pain and on how much he hated that bastard, but it was clear that Victor remembered everything he had learned during the time they were stuck together. He knew every single one of his erogenous zones, he knew where he loved to be licked and the best spots to bite him, he knew just the right pressure to use as he pumped his dick, picking up his pace with every thrust.

While before Logan had been holding back from crying out in pain, now he was desperately trying to keep himself from moaning out in pleasure, his breath coming out in heavy gasps as his heart beat fast in his chest.

Sweat was dripping from his dark hair down his neck, his body already covered with sweat beads, and even his body hair was drenched in it.

Some strands of his brown hair were stuck to his forehead, while some stuck to the glass as Victor pressed his head against the porthole. He no longer could even see Kurt's silhouette through the glass, his warm breath and his body heat fogging it up until it was almost fully opaque, and he wasn't sure if he should have been relieved or not, but he didn't have the time to focus on it either way. The only thing that was taking over his mind was the pleasure, and his rising panic as he realized that he was getting closer and closer to his climax.

No matter how much he tried, he couldn't distract himself from the rising pleasure. Even the pain now was doing nothing but fuelling it even further, his ass greedily squeezing around Victor's cock with every deep thrust as if he was trying to milk it.

He tried to press his hand against his mouth to silence himself, unable to hold back from gasping and moaning loudly every time Victor managed to hit his prostate, but also whenever he pinched one of his nipples or bit hard on his neck, covering it with dark red bitemarks. His cock was leaking precum all over the other man's hand, helping it slide even faster along it, and when Victor lenghtened one of his claws to play with the edge of his crown and tease his slit, Logan knew that he would not last another minute.

"P-please... Ahh! Uhn! P-please do-ooh-ont! Ngh! Plea-AH!" Aah AAH! N-nooOOH oh Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck-"

His eyes rolled up in his skull as he came with a loud keening sound, his inner muscles clenching spasmodically against Victor's cock until the blond came with a low growl, sinking his teeth into Logan's shoulder. This however did nothing but excite Logan even more, his last spurts hitting the door with full force before he finally collapsed against it, his body still shaking from the aftermath of his orgasm.

"Damn, bitch, I knew there was a reason I've missed ya,” Victor whispered against his cheek, giving it a lascivious lick before grasping on his sweat-drenched hair and forcing him to tilt his head in order to smash their lips together, claiming his mouth in a rough kiss. Logan didn't even have the strength and much less the will to resist, and the tears he'd managed to hold back until then slowly started rolling down his cheeks, mixing into the mess of sweat and saliva that was covering his face.

In that moment, Logan knew that he'd been fully defeated. There was no way he'd be able to fight back against him and win, just like he'd never been able to before. All the time he'd spent running away from his past, telling himself that he'd never let anyone make him feel so weak and helpless, it had all been for nothing.

He had thought he could forget, thought he could become stronger, but the truth was all he ever did was just stalling for time until Victor came back to remind him whom he truly belonged to. Whatever Victor wanted from him, he would take, and there was nothing that he could ever hope to do to stop him.

"Thanks for the fuck, runt, and for giving everyone here such a nice show,” Victor taunted him, and the loud snickering and whistling all around them made Logan realize that the obscene spectacle had gained him quite an audience as Creed's lackeys crowded around them and looked down at him with eyes filled with lust, derision or a mixture of both.

"Don't worry, bitch, none of 'em would ever dare to lay a hand on ya without my permission. Yer my own personal cumdump now, and I ain't the type to share,” Victor told him in a tone that sounded anything but reassuring.

"I don't care what ya'll do to me,” Logan whispered, forcing himself to stand up once Victor let go of him and staring up at him with the most resolute look he could manage. "Just don't- don't hurt my friend, sir.” He took a deep breath and tried to swallow back his tears. "Please

"How touching!” Victor said, his lips curving up into a malicious smirk. "Very well, runt, I'll give ya my word. I won't touch yer precious friend if ya swear to obey me, no matter what yer asked to do.”

"I-I” Logan gulped loudly, he knew all too well that he would come to regret it but what choice did he have? He had failed Kurt already, he'd been too weak to protect him and if the only way he could keep him safe was to throw away not only his pride but also everything he'd always stood for, to become someone that they both would despise, then he would do it. "I swear.”

Victor's lips spread open into a full-toothed grin, amber eyes glinting with a dangerous light.

"Welcome to my crew, Wolverine


[to be continued]