Chapter Text
All things considered, this could have gone better.
Jack Savage raced down the darkened hallway, the soft thudding of his feet matched by that of his heart. The mission itself had been simple on the surface. He was to infiltrate a supposedly abandoned canning plant in the Tundratown district, discern exactly why a known associate of Ex-Mayor Bellweather was spending so much time there, and withdraw before he was noticed. The first two tasks had gone off without a hitch. Jack had slipped in via crawling along the underside of a conveyer belt; an ingenious method, if he did say so himself. And he often did.
As for his second duty, he’d almost performed that too well. The bunny had gotten a good view of the laboratory setup from his perch inside one of the air vents, even managing to catch a glimpse of the scientist (or so Jack assumed; he was wearing a lab coat, at least) hard at work. Jack had thought it strange that a wolverine would have allied himself with Bellweather’s anti-pred crusade, but he wasn’t paid to analyze the motives of his targets. He was, however, paid to apprehend them, and that’s exactly what the bunny had done.
Kicking out the screen covering the vent in front of him, Jack had leapt down behind the wolverine and leveled his sidearm towards the center of his form. It was only after the wolverine had turned that Jack remembered he’d forgotten to yell “Freeze!”. The rabbit’s realization came too late to prevent his finger from tightening around the trigger of his weapon. Luckily for the wolverine, however, Jack was not the best shot; the bullet struck the glass flask in the male’s hand, splattering its contents all over the scientist’s stocky form. It was right about then, watching the carnivore’s body contort and writhe, that Jack decided to run. After all, whatever that stuff was, it was related to the Nighthowlers, and Jack didn’t exactly want to tangle with a species that naturally preyed upon rabbits.
And so Special Agent Savage found himself sprinting through the corridors of the canning plant as low growls echoed around him. Being stalked through a remote workshop by a most-likely-feral wolverine was bad enough, but the lack of light made it nearly impossible for Jack to see more than a few feet in front of himself. And so it was that, when he spotted a door on his right, Jack all but tackled it open and bounded into the room beyond.
Here, at least, he had light. The harsh fluorescents above the bathroom mirror illuminated the room well enough, and it only appeared to have one entrance. The agent quickly ducked into one of the stalls (though not before taking a quick, appreciative glance in the mirror), and aimed his firearm toward the half-closed door. With a hint of malice in his voice, Jack murmured, “Come on, you bastard, come and get me.”
Jack shouldn’t have tempted fate. The sound of the wolverine’s growl and the telltale click of claws on hard flooring grew closer and closer as Jack waited, breathing heavy after his frantic flight. Focused on the bathroom door, Agent Savage didn’t spot the ball of dark fur until after it had launched itself out of the vent in the wall and landed heavily atop him. Jack would have appreciated the irony of his trick being used against him, but he was too busy scrambling to keep the wolverine’s claws and jaws off his body. He winced as he felt the tip of one talon slice through the waistband of his pants, the shallow wound in his belly nevertheless ruining an expensive pair of slacks. Another swipe of the beast’s claws finished off the poor fabric, which now hung in tatters from the rabbit’s well-shaped hips.
Somehow, Jack managed to get his feet between him and the wolverine. Lashing out with all his formidable strength, he sent his assailant skidding across the floor. As Jack got to his feet, he realized he’d lost his gun in the confusion… and that he’d placed the wolverine between him and the bathroom door. Fucking perfect.
Special Agent Savage hadn’t earned his title by being slow on his feet, however. As the wolverine righted himself and began his charge anew, Jack turned to face his assailant and bounded forward. At the last second before the wolverine’s jaws would have closed around his head, Jack pitched backwards, sliding across the floor on his back and between the beast’s legs. Jack’s grin of accomplishment as he sailed below the wolverine’s outstretched claws was cut short by a stiff, wet impact against his face.
Sputtering as he righted himself for the second time, Jack raised a paw to his face. As it came away wet, he flashed a horrified glance in the mirror. Fortunately for does everywhere, Jack’s visage was uninjured, although a splotch of his fur did appear to be oddly discolored. The rabbit’s nose twitched as he paused to identify the smell; it was oddly familiar. Where had he… Oh. Oh.
Jack really should have simply turned and run. But curiosity wasn’t only for cats. Besides, he had been tasked to figure out exactly what was going on, and he was going to complete his mission. And so it was that Agent Savage focused his gaze between the legs of his attacker, who’d just now recovered from colliding with a heater at the end of his charge. The dull light of the bathroom confirmed his slightly embarrassing suspicions; the wolverine was fully erect, shaft soaked and dripping with precum.
Savage felt his mouth open slightly; why would someone change the Night Howler serum to do… well, that? That was the question on Jack’s mind, of course; he wasn’t at all wondering how the wolverine managed to walk with that sort of thing tucked in his trousers. No sirree. Of course, he couldn’t let himself get distracted by the mustelid member, however massive. And so Jack turned, abandoning his gun and preparing to tackle the door open once more. Unfortunately for Jack, said door opened inwards, meaning all that the rabbit’s motion accomplished was a bruised muzzle and a hard knock to the head. Jack felt himself stagger back from the door, a paw raised to his face once more. This time, he was definitely bleeding.
He had no time to dwell on how a possibly broken nose would affect his chances with the ladies, however: a split-second later, something struck him between the shoulderblades, sending him to the floor with a thud and pinning him under something heavy. The stars in Jack’s eyes slowly gave way to a mass of dark brown fur, two beady eyes staring back at him from an upside-down face. "Sssshit." Jack ran through a mental checklist: pinned down by his natural predator, devoid of any weaponry, and located in a place where no one could hear him. Things, he decided, could not possibly get any worse.
And then he felt something warm and wet slide between the shreds of fabric that had been his favorite pair of pants.
He couldn’t be… Oh, fuck.
Things had indeed gotten worse.
Jack’s earlier question returned with a vengeance: who the fuck would change the Night Howler extract to have this effect on a creature? It was swiftly brushed aside, however, for the question of how Jack was going to get out of this before things went any further. No sooner had the more pressing dilemma crossed his mind than a different sort of pressing began, the sensation surprisingly gentle for a feral beast.
Not that it was gentle by any other standards; Jack couldn’t help but let out a cry as his feet futilely tapped against the floor, tail helplessly twitching. Thankfully, the substantial precum eased the pain of the wolverine’s first thrust. Still, it was an uncomfortable and mostly unpleasant feeling for Jack; he’d experimented once or twice or five times in high school, but that was just a phase. Nothing serious had gone down, and he’d never gotten anywhere as far as-
Jack’s reminiscing was cut short by another rotation of the wolverine’s hips, driving Jack’s pelvis into the cold tiles and making him shamefully aware of the fact that he, too, was leaking onto the bathroom floor. While Jack would normally have considered the implications of his erection, there was no “normal” in this scenario. And besides, the bunny’s mind was already fogging over with the inherently lapine lust that ruled about 30% of his decisions.
And so Jack merely melted under the wolverine’s body, a cross between a moan and a yelp leaving his lips as the wolverine thrust forward for the third time. Jack barely registered the slap of furry hips against his rear; he was currently more focused on the strange sensation of fullness that pervaded his thoughts. It wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, not anymore. Fellow agents had often joked that Jack was made of rubber, the way he bounced back from injuries and blows. Apparently, there was more truth to that than he’d known; despite the wolverine having nearly two feet of size over him, he was having very little trouble burying himself within the bunny.
A small puddle of drool dripped from Jack’s mouth, his face pressed against the floor by a paw. The rabbit’s tongue lolled out, heedless of the condition of the tile below him. He needed as much air as possible to fuel the fire building in his loins, a flame that he knew from experience quickly burned out of control. Indeed, it took only a single rough prod against his prostate to get Jack squirming on the floor, cum painting his belly white and ruining the other half of his attire.
But while a single prod was all it took, it wasn’t all that Jack was going to get. Sensing his prey’s sudden tightness, the wolverine drove forward once more, his leaking tip slamming into the sensitive spot within Special Agent Savage again, and again, and again. Jack lost count after the seventh spurt of cum poured from his slightly-sore shaft, the rabbit’s body squelching with each motion of the wolverine’s hips as he was pressed down into his seed. Savage was making no attempt to escape at this point; sure, he probably should have been, but he was basically helpless under the male’s weight, and his gun was currently AWOL, and even if he got up he’d slip on the puddle beneath him, and there was nowhere to run anyway, and oh god, it felt so good...
Eventually, blissfully, Jack Savage heard a strangled whimper from the beast above him. Seconds later, with a particularly strong thrust, a different sort of heat filled the bunny. Too focused on breathing to even moan, Jack simply lay there, tail twitching as the wolverine pumped deep inside him.
The blissful sensation was, however, sadly cut short by a pair of jaws closing around Jack’s neck. A faraway voice shouted at him to fight, to run, but it could barely be heard over the thunderous pounding of his heart. The agent found himself lifted into the air by his scruff, the wolverine padding away with his newly won prize. A sticky wetness between Jack’s legs told him that he was leaving a trail back to wherever the male was taking him. He might even be able to retrace his steps when he made his escape attempt.
Not that he had to do that right away, though...