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Logan wanted to sleep in for once in his life, but with all the noise he could hear outside his door, it seemed like the mansion was up and running for the day. He groaned as he got to his feet and shuffled about getting dressed, choosing his favorite oversized hoodie and sweatpants. With a particularly loud thump in the hallway, and a muffled reassurance that the kid was okay, Logan also decided to put sunglasses on, even if he would look ridiculous. A headache was already forming behind his eyes.
He opened his door to the chaos of children running through the halls, being the normal rambunctious group they were. One kid was talking about a new game coming out, another down the hall giggling with their friends about romantic interests, a few were playing tag with powers involved.
Logan grit his teeth against the throb of pain in his head and made his way to the kitchen. He needed coffee, desperately. Luckily none of the kids seemed to need him for anything.
Hank was manning the stove today, piles of french toast and eggs beside him. Logan took a hesitant sniff in his direction, nose wrinkling when he picked up the faint smell of chemicals, almost covered up by Hank’s pine and old book scent. He couldn’t really fault the man, his research required handling of strong smelling chemicals sometimes, but it still sent a shiver down his spine and a strong jolt of pain through his head.
“Good morning, Logan! Did you sleep well?”
Logan grunted in reply, stalking over to the coffee pot. He slammed a mug down and filled it to the brim, chugging it in one go before refilling it.
“A resounding no, I see.”
“You smell like chemicals, Hank,” Logan gritted out.
Hank blinked over at him, then looked down at himself like he could physically see his own smell. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he looked back at Logan.
“Apologies, friend. I will try my best to stop…smelling like chemicals?” Hank said uncertainly.
Logan huffed out a laugh, caught off guard by the reply. Hank looked pleased with himself as he plated a few pieces of french toast and a hefty pile of eggs. He handed the plate to Logan, who took it with a raised eyebrow.
“I’ve noticed a trend of you not eating in the mornings unless we hand you a plate, and you know what they say; breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”
Logan sighed as his purr started rumbling in his chest, and Hank smiled at him like he’d just quoted Shakespeare. Defeated, yet again, by Hank’s unending optimism and kindness. Hank’s answering purr was loud as Logan took a fork, leaned back against the counter, and dug in.
For a moment, things were quiet as they purred together, before the door banged open from a rush of kids. Logan cut his purr off, not really wanting to deal with the kids asking questions, though he was sure most of them knew already just from the constant gossip that floated around the mansion. They piled their plates and thanked Hank as they ran right back out, not acknowledging the purring at all in their rush for food.
“Such a rowdy bunch,” Hank noted, his own purr still going strong, giving his words a pleasing rumble.
Logan hummed in reply, watching as Hank worked as he sat his empty plate in the sink to be washed later. The man seemed like a natural, easily able to keep an eye on the eggs while going through all the steps for french toast, confident and assured.
“How do you do it?” he asked, thoughts somewhere else.
Hank looked over at him, head tilted slightly in confusion. The man looked down at his hands, which were currently stirring the scrambled eggs, before turning back at Logan. He seemed to realize that Logan wasn’t talking about cooking, purr petering off.
“Do what?”
“Your…instincts, animal traits, whatever. You have more control over them.”
Hank chuckled, somewhat somber. “I’d say you arguably have much better control than I do. I wouldn’t have been able to withhold my purring as long as you did.”
Logan huffed, unconvinced. “But you don’t growl at every little thing that pisses you off or sniff at anyone who walks through the door. Hell, you barely even bare your teeth.”
“Ah,” Hank thoughtfully hummed. “I don’t have many things to growl at. I don’t go on missions that often, and I find myself rather content at the school, with my research and reading.”
Hank took the eggs off the burner, scooping them on top of the already hulking pile and putting the skillet in the sink. He flipped a few pieces of french toast, before expanding on his explanation more.
“I do believe that your sense of smell is better than mine, as well as your hearing and eyesight. That could lead to you growling more simply from overstimulation. With so much going on at the school, it must be overwhelming. Even I get stressed sometimes.”
Logan nodded, somewhat shamefully. He’d gone through wars, fought countless battles, and yet he still got a little overwhelmed with all the commotion here sometimes, the smells all converging into one and everyone talking at once. It felt childish, somehow, to growl at all the noise when he’d survived bombs going off right next to him before and barely even flinched.
“It is nothing to be ashamed of, Logan,” Hank said, as if reading his mind. “We all have different needs at different times in our lives.”
“But I -”
The door slammed open again, the sound of it bouncing against the wall sending a stab of pain right behind his eyes. Logan held back a groan, massaging his temples. He was absolutely not going to growl at the kids who’d just walked in, but god did he want to for a moment as his headache mounted to near agony. He watched through a haze of pain as the kids left just as fast as they came, talking to each other all the while.
“Would you like to go to the library with me, Logan?” Hank asked, quiet as he put the final piece of french toast on the pile. “I’ve been meaning to do more research on early mutations and see how they compare.”
Logan blinked over at Hank, thoughts scrambled as the pain persisted. He nodded, not really sure what he was agreeing to but knowing Hank wouldn’t lead him astray, especially when he was asking questions in that soothing tone. Hank smiled at him, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling him along.
They walked through hallways that blurred together, kids waving at them or giving a brief greeting as they passed. Logan let himself be led wherever they were going, focused more on not growling or whining pitifully when the pain pulsed in his head, face carefully blank. Hank pushed him through the doors to the library, closing them behind them.
Logan let out a relieved sigh, breathing in the comforting smell of dust and books as the sounds of children running around dampened. He could pinpoint the scents of a few others among the shelves, but they were quiet and seemed to be keeping to themselves.
Hank clapped a hand on his shoulder. Logan looked up at him and gave a small smile, his headache still simmering under his skin but much less painful now. Of course Hank knew what to do when Logan was feeling like shit, he’d said it himself that he got stressed sometimes.
“I always end up here on the bad days,” Hank whispered to him as if to confirm it, giving his shoulder a squeeze before going to walk through the shelves.
Logan followed, eyes darting from Hank to the shelves as he looked for a book he could read while Hank did his research. Or at least pretend to read, sometimes looking at small print for too long made his headaches worse. He ended up picking one at random, with a muted pastel cover depicting a woman dressed in fancy regalia drinking tea with a magnifying glass in hand. Some sort of royal murder mystery, he was sure.
Hank gave him a big grin when Logan followed him to the couch he’d chosen, tucked away in one of the far corners, hidden by a few shelves. A window beside it gave the area a soft glow, dust floating in the air illuminated by the sunlight coming through the half closed curtains. The books Hank had found were stacked on the table beside him, neat and tidy, and Hank sat down and patted the spot beside him, the spot that was more in the sunlight.
Logan settled in, nudging his feet up onto Hank’s lap and relaxing in the sun warmed cushions. With a pleased hum, Hank laid his hands across Logan’s ankles as he opened his first book. Logan did the same, reading the whole first page before realizing that he hadn’t processed a single word. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to read if he didn’t put more effort into it than he was willing to give, he gave a quiet sigh and closed the book, letting it rest on his stomach.
His attention turned to Hank again. The way his eyebrows furrowed when he found something confusing, the way his eyes lit up when he figured something out or read something interesting. Logan’s eyes roamed over the man’s glasses, lingering on the hair tufts that were similar to Logan’s, curled up into two spikes.
Logan felt the telltale rumble in his chest, and for a moment he pushed the urge to purr down. But then he thought about Hank purring with him in the hallway and the kitchen, thought about Hank dragging him here just for him to have some peace and quiet and letting him have the better spot to sunbathe in, and he let his purr out quietly. A soft, near silent rumble.
He felt ridiculous, purring when Hank wasn’t even really doing anything other than spending time with him, but then Hank smiled at him and let his own purr free. Logan closed his eyes and relaxed, letting the soothing sound wash over him. It felt nice to be understood