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The wolverine, despite common confusion, actually has no relation to the wolf. They’re mustelids. Weasels. More closely related to an otter or a badger than any canine.
Looking at the Wolverine, however, one could become confused. Logan’s huge and hairy with massive teeth and even more massive claws. Hugh Jackman himself got them mixed up. The confusion becomes even more warranted in the case of the particular Wolverine Wade dragged on an impromptu hero’s journey, as that Logan happens to be a werewolf.
Thank God he’s a werewolf and not some werewolverine. That would be at least ten times less sexy.
Anyway, Wade has been doing reading on taxonomy, because why not? The wolverine‘s binomial name, gulo gulo , means glutton. The German word, vielfraß , translates literally to “devours much.” Wolverines get a bad wrap for being, well, gluttons. Etymology is so cool, right?
Is Logan a glutton? It depends on the person, as most of these questions do. He can eat a lot, that’s for sure, but give the man a break. His bones are literally metal. Taking a step burns a thousand calories.
The substance abuse? Sure, he can clear a liquor store, but his liver works faster than the drugs. The high never lasts long. Plus, he’s trying to cut back, and he’s been an awfully good boy about it. The cigars are hardly for the nicotine. They’re more of a large, bitter chewing stick.
No, Wade wouldn’t consider Logan gluttonous . Maybe horny and hungry most of the time, but so is Wade. He’s got a lot of angst and testosterone and dog hormones going on up in there. Especially during the full moon. Wade had a period for years, he knows what the cycle can do to a guy.
A few months ago, Wade was sure he was going to eat Mary Puppins before he swooped in and dutifully defended her, getting his guts ripped out in the process. Then Logan went out and ate the neighbor's cat, which was an issue.
The month after, Wade may have riled him up and Logan may have fucked him so hard they broke the pullout couch. And cracked the drywall. And stained the wood floor. They got a few complaints from downstairs. The apartment was fine, they weren’t getting their deposit back anyway, but Al got so mad about the couch and Logan was so embarrassed he went to Ikea and spent half a grand on a new couch that day.
So now they weren’t allowed to spend the full moon at home. Which was fine for them—Wolvie needed to stretch his claws out anyway, and Wade was always down for a game of tag.
They take the car upstate, an hour out of the city, and walk through the woods until they can’t hear people or cars anymore. Just the chatter of squirrels and the trees, the rushing of a distant river. It’s early fall, the leaves just starting to turn yellow, and the undergrowth is soft awaiting for when they fall.
Logan trails behind Wade, silently observing the woods. He gets grouchier the closer it gets to the full moon, quieter. His arms get impossibly hairier, less of the coiled curls of human hair and more the soft fur of a wolf’s. Wade loves to get his hands in it, pull the hair that’s on his back.
He sets down the cooler and opens it. There’s about half a cow’s worth of raw beef, which Logan will be enjoying later, an energy drink, a few plastic water bottles, and two steak and cheese heroes.
Wade cracks open the energy drink and hands Logan a sandwich, taking the other for himself. It’s golden hour, the sun hanging low in the sky, its rays filtering through the canopy. Logan stretches his tense shoulders. He keeps rolling his arms in their sockets, like he can’t fit quite right in his skin. The muscles in his neck strain, which is hot, but concerning.
Logan must finally realize that Wade isn’t talking, because his eyes snap up to Wade’s. He bears his teeth, showing off his pointy canines. “What?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Wade asks. He wraps up his sandwich and rises from his seat on the cooler, rounding Logan to lay his hands on his shoulders. He digs his thumbs into those tight muscles, feeling satisfied when Logan lets out a long, happy groan. “You’re squirming, peanut. So tense.”
“I’m about to turn into a wild animal,” Logan says, but the tension seeps from his voice when Wade rubs at his neck, urging him to turn his head to the side to stretch the muscle. “I want to see you all loose.”
“Trust me, you will,” Wade says, wagging his eyebrows even though Logan can’t see. Logan lets out a little snort. Cute. “It’s no big deal. You change, we play, we fuck, you change back, we go home.” He stretches the other side of Logan’s neck. “Easy-peasie.”
“I know,” Logan grumbles. Wade digs his thumb into a particularly nasty knot, and Logan moans in a way that has Wade’s dick interested. His voice wavers when he admits, “It just hurts.”
Wade stops, giving his neck another squeeze. “It hurts?”
Logan tips his head back so he’s resting his head against Wade’s middle, looking at him upsidedown. His eyes are tired and a little sad. “Every time.”
Wade wraps his arms around Logan’s chin, leaning down to kiss his lips from the awkward angle. He strokes Logan’s jaw, feeling the bristles of his beard against the sensitive scars on his palm. Wade isn’t sure what to say. He finds himself whispering, far to sincere, “I wish I could make it go away.”
Logan sighs a little pleased sigh as Wade scratches his chin. Puppy.
“Do you at least fun?” Wade asks, voice a whisper. “When we play?”
Logan smiles, all soft, crows feet crinkling. Wade wants to devour him. “Of course I do,” he says, hands coming up to clutch Wade’s wrists, holding them against his face. “It’s fun, to let go. I don’t have to worry about breaking anything. Or anyone. You can take it.” He raises his eyebrows, a tease. “You like it.”
Wade grins. “What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.” Word of the day!
Logan’s eyes go sharp. “Maybe you’re just a slut.”
Wade grins wider. Gosh, he loves this man. “Careful, now, or I’ll have to jump your bones before the sun even sets.” He leans down to kiss him again, dirtier this time, licking into his mouth, scraping his tongue on those sharp teeth. Logan’s hands come around his nape to pull him closer.
Regrettably, Wade pulls away, lips red and wet. “Let me finish my Celcius,” he says, sitting back on the cooler, taking a big swig. “Finish your sammie.” Logan’s still grinning, unwrapping his hero to take another bite. “Good boy,” Wade coos, and is delighted when Logan’s ears start to burn.
By the time they finish their meal, the sun is hanging low in the pink sky and the moon creeps up over the horizon, threatening to rise. Logan makes a desperate little sound, shrugging off his coat, leaving him in his wifebeater. “Wade,” he says, voice almost a whimper.
Logan sits against a tree and Wade rushes over to him, chains in hand. He cups Logan’s face. “You okay, honey?” He asks, brushing his bangs from his eyes.
Logan’s shivering, forehead covered in a damp layer of sweat. “It’s happening,” he hisses. “Tie me up.”
Wade never wanted to do anything more. “Yessir!” He makes quick work of chaining Logan to the stump of the tree, the metal digging tight into his skin, folding his arms to his torso. The chains will do nothing but slow him down—Wade wonders briefly about adamantium chains, then flinches at the thought of the price tag.
He uses five padlocks to hold the chains together, as three were snapped before Wade could get out of sight last time. He tugs the chain, admiring his work, before turning to Logan again. He looks like shit, like he’s going through withdrawls, shaking and panting and sweating.
“Puppy,” Wade says, and he knows Logan’s out of it, because he doesn’t even growl, just whines high in his throat, leaning into the touch when Wade cups his cheek again. “Do you want me to stay?”
Logan seems to consider this option before shaking his head. “I’ll find you.”
Wade beams. He grips Logan’s chin in a fist, turning his face to kiss him on the mouth. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He backs up and away, watching Logan watch him, the sun’s final rays touching the horizon. The moon is high now, peeking through the canopy.
Logan bears his teeth. “ Go. ”
Wade nods. “Okay,” he says, turning on his heel. He takes a huge breath. “Maximum effort.”
He books it, feet thundering against the soft undergrowth, leaving footprints behind. He goes as far as fast as he can manage, running south before he makes a sharp right, away from the moonlight.
Logan described it to him once, what turning felt like. “Imagine the worst hangover you’ve ever had, times ten,” he had said, “in the front row of a rock concert, except the band is in your cranium.”
That is, of course, before your bones snap and your body contorts, shifting you into the wolf. Wade’s seen it happen, a few times, and the scraping of metal on metal still gives him shivers.
Wade knows exactly when the chase is on, because the moon is high in the clear sky, and there’s a howl in the distance—but not far enough. He can’t help but revel in it every time, the innate, primal fear of being hunted. He knows that Logan is faster and stronger. He can smell, hear and see better than Wade can. All Wade has is twelve bullets and two baby knives. It’s only a matter of time before he gets caught and rendered defenseless.
But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to fight like hell until then.
He doesn’t stop running, his cancerous lungs burning at the exertion, until he hits the creek. He throws himself into the dirt, hoping to mask his scent in it, before wading (haha, wade ) across and sprinting some more on the other side. He knows Logan is following his prints, sniffing his scent out with the accuracy of a bloodhound. Wade jumps up and into a tree, hiding in the canopy. He’s covered in dirt, damp from the knee down.
Well, and soaking wet between his thighs, but that’s neither here nor there.
He crouches high in the trees, shivering in the autumn chill. He’s so aware of his every move, his breathing, the sharp smell of his sweat. He watches the ground with the eyes of a sniper, scanning for movement. There are squirrels running around, a few birds darting low in the air. The wind whistles, tossing around leaves.
He hears Logan before he sees him, a loud branch snaps under his feet, his breaths loud in the still night. Wade holds his breath once he spots him—half man, half wolf, covered in a shining brown coat, nose in the ground.
For a few, horrifying moments, Logan stands at the base of the trees, sniffing around for Wade but unable to catch his scent. Wade trembles with anticipation. The wind blows again.
Logan’s head snaps up, looking directly at Wade. Shit.
“Shit,” Wade hisses, whipping out his gun. He shoots a beautiful shot. It would have been perfect and got Logan right between the eyebrows if his dome wasn’t made of adamantium. The lead bullet ricochets off his forehead. Logan snarls. “ Shit .”
Logan digs his claws into the tree, using them as anchors to start climbing at an alarming speed. Wade swears, jumping to the next tree, and the next, skipping across the canopy. Logan follows, shaking each log with his enormous weight, his unyielding force.
Wade slips on a branch, sending him airborne. He grunts when he hits the ground, using the momentum to drop and roll into a sprint. Boot camp taught him well.
Logan hits the ground not too far behind him. He turns, firing two bullets into his left front leg. He begins to limp, but continues to run. “Jesus fuck, peanut.” He fires two more rounds, one right into his elbow, and he cries out, stopping to mouth at the wound.
Wade keeps running. Blood rushes in his ears, his heart throws itself against his rib cage. He can’t help but smile, a smile so enormous it hurts. His lungs burn. His calves burn. He loves it.
Logan tackles him, arms around his waist dragging him down into the dirt. He snarls, digging his claws into Wade’s side, making him yelp. He kicks with all his force into Logan’s chest, which makes his leg feel a bit like jelly. He elbows Logan in the throat, making him choke, and Wade turns in his arms. Logan opens his mouth to bite. Wade shoves his gun between his lips and pulls the trigger, throwing himself to his feet when Logan jerks back. Listens to him cough up the bullet.
Wade’s not going to lose Logan now, so he prepares for some melee, grabbing a baby knife out of his belt. Logan jumps back to his feet so Wade roundhouses him in the jaw. Claws go through his calf. He uses the leverage to jump on Logan, swinging his legs around his shoulders to sit on him. He nearly loses his leg in the process, but he’s able to stab Logan in the jugular, watching satisfied as blood spurts wildly from the wound.
Logan throws him off and Wade lands heavily on his back, knocking the breath out of him. Logan jumps at him, but his movements are a little loose from the blood loss. Wade uses the moment to kick both feet into either shoulder, sending him backwards back on the ground and firing four more shots into his stomach.
Wade turns and runs, but he doesn’t get very far on his rapidly healing leg. Logan is whining, so high and pitiful that Wade almost stops, but that whine turns into a low growl. Logan’s body spits the bullets right out. He pounces again, and Wade whips the pistol across his face, impacting with a sickening crack . Logan’s claws dig into his shoulder, impaling him in a less fun way than he’d rather be.
Wade tries to gain distance, pushing Logan away so he can fire again in his abdomen, but after two shots his gun clicks , to his horror. Wade changes tactics, stabbing Logan in the shoulder before ripping the knife through his body, cutting him open from collarbone to hipbone.
Logan howls , bringing his other fist down into Wade’s chest, breaking his ribs and clawing right through his lungs. He asphyxiates, body trying to heal around the intrusion. He stabs Logan’s wrist, trying to get it out, but Logan’s relentless, twisting his fist, effectively scrambling Wade’s vital organs. His vision starts to spot, so he kicks wildly at Logan’s belly, shaking his body to try to dislodge him. He starts stabbing Logan’s shoulders like a maniac, getting his blade into whatever skin he can reach.
Logan snarls, un-schewering Wade’s shoulder to grab his wrist so hard it nearly snaps, shoving it above Wade’s head. Wade just pulls out his other knife, stabbing Logan’s side and twisting. Logan grabs his other wrist, freeing Wade’s chest, and it takes a moment before Wade can breathe again. He brings his knees up into Logan’s solid chest, but it hurts Wade more than Logan. His claws go through Wade’s wrists, pinning them together to the dirt. Wade hardly has time to think Man, I really am like Jesus before Logan’s teeth are sinking into his throat.
Rabbit, meet wolf.
Wade can’t move, can’t talk, can’t breathe as Logan rips his throat out with a sickening crunch , chewing, swallowing . All he can do is choke, watch his blood spew from his gaping wound, watch Logan lick it up. He gives in, lets Logan have the kill, slumps his whole body as his throat stitches itself back together.
Logan sniffs his neck, his armpit, down his body to his crotch, burying his nose between Wade’s thighs. Not going to lie, Logan eating his trachea really did it for Wade, and he knows Logan can smell that heady scent of desire. Logan’s tongue, huge and warm and wet, licks a hot stripe over Wade’s old sweats. He digs his teeth into the fabric, ripping them away and spitting them out on the ground beside them. Wade shivers, his legs and thighs and cunt exposed to the open air.
Logan releases Wade’s wrists to grab his hips, licking through the hot, wet mess of Wade’s cunt. He groans, or tries to, but he doesn’t have any vocal cords, so he grabs Logan by the fur instead, getting blood in his coat.
Logan eats him out with fervor, licking into his hole, fucking him with his tongue. His tongue isn’t as long in his human form, nor is it as thick—it fills Wade up perfectly. He does his best to grind back on Logan’s face, but his grip on his hips is too strong, leaving him helpless but to squirm, Logan’s tongue buried in him, his wet nose pressed against Wade’s cock.
Wade’s larynx finally stitches itself back together, but his voice is rough when he says, “Good fucking boy, Logan.” Logan whines, looking up at him with those big green-brown eyes. “Fucking eat my cunt.”
Logan does , licking across his straining cock with long, rough stripes. Wade moans, gripping his hair harder. “Just like that, puppy,” he coos, shivering when Logan closes his mouth around it and sucks , his big teeth poking into Wade’s mound.
The danger is still there—Logan could bite all his sensitive bits right off, rip him right in half. The thought has Wade’s toes curling in his sneakers, twisting his grip in Logan’s fur. “Shit, shit, I’m close.”
Logan pushes his tongue back inside, curling it up and licking right across that spongy spot inside, and Wade’s whole body folds, thighs closing around Logan’s head as he comes.
He doesn’t relent, keeps licking, thick muscle against Wade’s g-spot. He thinks for a second he might squirt, and he leans into that feeling. God, he wants to make a mess of Logan. The overstimulation makes his eyes prick, his whole body squirming, unsure if he wants to get away or get more.
Logan decides when he opens his jaw a little wider, able to fit Wade’s cock in between his lips without removing his tongue, sucking his whole cunt into his mouth. Wade shouts as he comes again, body shaking with the force of it, voice ringing in the trees. Logan fucks him through it, doesn’t stop until Wade is whimpering, pushing his head and shoulders away with his hands and feet. He pulls away with a whine, making Wade laugh. “Down, boy.”
He takes a moment to come back to Earth, laying his head back into the dirt, catching his breath. Logan whines again, crawling up over his body. Wade smiles, running his hands through his fur, scratching behind his ear. “You’ve been such a good boy for me,” he coos, laughing when Logan licks his face, the sweat under his jaw. He feels it when Logan starts to hump his leg, grinding his length against Wade’s exposed skin. “Oh?” He teases, reaching down to close his hand around it, stroking it. Logan whimpers. “Puppy got a present for me? Gonna give it to me good?”
Logan nods, burying his face in Wade’s neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat, licking his rabbit’s pulse point. Wade squeezes the head of his cock, just to hear him whimper again. “Speak, puppy,” he orders, just to be mean. “You gonna fuck me?”
Logan nods again. “Yes, Wade,” he says, voice a low growl, hardly audible, but Wade can feel the buzz in his chest.
“Ask me,” Wade demands, wrapping his legs around Logan’s waist, pulling him so close, but not where he wants. “Ask me nicely if you can fuck me.” Logan ruts his hips forward, pushing his cock through Wade’s slick lips, against his sensitive cock. They both moan at the friction. Wade grabs Logan by the scruff of his neck, giving him a shake. “Are you going to be a good boy?” He hisses. “I’ll fucking leave you here. You won’t even get your dick wet.”
“No, no, I’m sorry,” Logan sobs, body shaking with the effort to stay still. “Please, Wade, can I fuck you? Please?”
Wade’s dick throbs. Gosh, desperate is such a good look on Logan. “Yeah?” He purrs, letting his grip go slack, petting Logan’s big head. “You wanna stuff your knot in me?”
Logan’s hips twitch, but he doesn’t move. Good boy . “Uh-huh,” he pants. “Please? Can I, please?”
At any moment, Logan could move. Could pin Wade down, push into him and fuck him senseless. Wade couldn’t stop him if he wanted to.
But he doesn’t . Instead, at his most vulnerable, he trembles, waiting for Wade’s command.
Fuck , if that doesn’t get him going.
“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” he says, lining Logan up. “Give it to me, puppy.”
Logan doesn’t waste any time, slamming their hips together and setting a pace that has Wade grabbing his shoulders for dear life. He meets no resistance, Wade’s hole wet and slick from his own arousal and Logan’s spit. The force of it pushes Wade across the ground, only his shoulders left touching the dirt. Logan pants, whines high in his throat. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Wade kisses his face, little ah, ah, ahs pushed out his chest with every thrust. He can’t catch his breath. He feels so close already. He’s full of Logan, surrounded by Logan, Logan’s hair in his nose and mouth, Logan Logan Logan . He swears, he can feel it, that pleasure-pain of Logan’s tip against his cervix. There’s no way he can get pregnant, not even a chance, but still—
“Are you gonna knock me up?” He hisses, and Logan growls , going harder , burying himself over and over and over. He can feel that swelling at the base of Logan’s cock, knows he’s close. “Are you gonna give me your puppies, Logan?”
Logan nods, panting with the effort. “Please,” he says. “Please, Wade, can I come?”
That’s spank bank material for a lifetime. Wade shivers with his orgasm, clamping around Logan’s cock. “Fuck, yeah, baby—puppy— Logan .” He wraps his body around Logan’s, trying to get more of him, more of his scent, his cock, his warmth. “Give it to me, Logan.”
Maybe Wade’s the glutton, after all. Only when it comes to Logan.
Logan slams their hips together, popping the widest part in, and Wade yelps at the force. Logan lets out a long groan, cock twitching, and Wade can feel that warm wet heat painting his insides.
“That’s it,” Wade coos, petting Logan’s head. He’s still shivering, nosing at Wade’s throat, breathing in his scent. “Good boy for me. Fucked me so good.”
Logan moves to pull out and whines when he can’t. “Wade—“ he gasps, panicked. They’ve done this a million times, but it always freaks him out, when he gets out of it like this.
“Shh,” Wade says, stroking his head. “It’s okay, puppy.” He guides Logan to lay his head on Wade’s chest, watches him slowly relax. “Stay with me a little while.”
Logan doesn’t say anything else, just closes his eyes and lets Wade whisper sweet nothings.
They lay like that until the swelling goes down, after which they go two more rounds right there in the dirt. After, Wade goes for a swim in the creak while Logan hunts a few bunnies, dropping one at Wade’s feet.
“Brutal, peanut,” he scolds, but pets Logan anyway, watches his eyes light up. His tail even wags.
They find where they began, where Logan promptly eats all the meat they brought and Wade chugs four water bottles. Wade learned from last time, putting on the extra pair of pants he brought, and laying out blankets for them to sleep on. Logan curls up next to him, head on his chest, huffing softly as Wade strokes his soft coat.
When he wakes in the morning, Logan is human again, all soft, tanned skin and six pack abs. Glorious. He runs his hands through Logan’s hair, plays with his kitty-cat tufts.
He wakes slowly, stretching out his limbs, sore from sleeping on the ground. He sees Wade and his whole face softens, which makes Wade’s heart throb.
“‘morning,” Logan drawls, voice all rough from sleep, and gosh, isn’t that something?
“Good morning, handsome,” Wade says. “Did you find your one true love? Turned into a prince again?”
Logan grins, kissing Wade’s chest. “Yeah, I think I did.” He kisses Wade’s sternum, his belly….
“Again, peanut?” Wade teases, but he runs a hand through Logan’s hair, guiding him on his way. “God, you’re worse than me.”
“What can I say?” Logan purrs into Wade’s hip. “I’m insatiable.”
Wade grins. “One could even say, a glutton.” Word of the day!
If they fuck again that morning, this time with human dick, you really can’t blame Wade. I mean, look at Logan. Wade’s only a man.
And, when a park ranger finds them dozing butt-naked half-past noon, Wade does not shriek like a little girl.