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Ostensibly, it was one of those team-building retreats. They all treated it as a vacation, though, as those were few and far between, and enough team-building went on the rest of the time to render the exercise functionally pointless. Even Scott had given up trying to force productivity on them, choosing instead to focus his energy and attention on Jean. Logan avoided them when possible; just because he'd grown accustomed to that low throb of jealousy didn't mean he enjoyed it. So it was walks in the woods for him and, occasionally, joining the kids in their inventive attempts to break up the monotony.
Sam had found the swimming hole on the third day; at first, he'd only shared the location with Tabby, but word had gotten out – as it so often did – and now at least six of them knew of it. Logan got the heads-up from Bobby and was deeply appreciative. He wasn't much of a swimmer, but it was cool and quiet by the water, and the swimming hole had the added bonus of being unknown to Scott and Jean. He went there most afternoons now, pushing through a hedge of wild blueberries – and taking a few for his troubles – then gripping a branch to swing over a patch of nettles onto a game trail. It was old and nearly obscured by ivy and other weeds, and there was no telling how Sam had found it in the first place. Once he was on it, though, it was easy enough to follow.
He lit a cigar as he walked, sucked the acrid smoke into his mouth and held it for a moment, relishing the taste of a bad habit. It was a hot day, and the smoke that leaked from his nostrils hung in the air, stuck in humidity that felt like he was wading through soup. By the time he sidestepped a tangled mat of thorn bushes and ducked under a low-hanging hemlock branch, he was shiny with sweat and seriously considering breaking his self-imposed moratorium on swimming. He paused to brush the cherry off of his cigar and caught a twitch of movement out of the corner of his eye.
Instinct took over, every muscle tensing as he crouched low. His fingers curled into fists and his eyes darted, seeking out the source of the movement in the treetops. Too big to be a bird, too bright to be some sort of forest cat. The tips of his claws pricked skin, ready to pop at a moment's notice. A branch twitched and he narrowed his eyes, then relaxed when he saw a guilty little face peering out from a thicket of leaves.
He stood up straight and arched an eyebrow, and Tabby held a finger to her lips, cautioning silence, then gestured. Logan turned, rolling his eyes, and followed the line she'd indicated. There, at the edge of the swimming hole, was a sprawl of blue, half hidden in tall wildflowers. Logan grinned a little, the tips of his teeth showing. Kurt. He'd gotten into the habit lately of swimming until he was exhausted, then curling up in the sun like a cat to sleep. He'd confessed as much to Logan last night when the two of them sat down for a late night game of poker, which, much to Logan's irritation, he'd turned out to be quite good at.
It was just his bad luck that the kids had discovered him out here. The second day of their little retreat, Kurt had bet the lot of them that they couldn't catch him and it had been a constant contest ever since then. Logan had abstained from the bet, knowing perfectly well how hard it was to catch Kurt when he didn't want to be caught, but from the way everyone else was acting, you'd think he was offering a massive cash prize to whoever won. As far as Logan knew, there was no actual prize, just the satisfaction of rubbing the victory in everyone else's faces for months. Even Jean had decided to play, though she'd had no more luck than anyone else.
Logan stepped out of the bushes to watch, a little smirk on his face. Tabby waved, and from the line of trees opposite where Logan stood, Sam and Bobby emerged, almost on their bellies as they crawled towards Kurt's patch of sun. For a moment, Logan thought that it was going to work, and then a breeze blew into his face and he caught Kurt's scent and knew that he was awake.
He let them get almost within arms' reach before exploding up out of the grass, moving as though shot from a catapult. Tabby yelped in dismay as Kurt somersaulted to the side, catching his balance much more easily than either of the boys. Bobby recovered first, flinging out his hand. Ice erupted from his fingertips, striking the place where Kurt had been, and Logan shifted slightly, planting his feet and tipping his head to the left. Just before Bobby had moved, he'd caught a flash of yellow eyes, a glint of sharp teeth, and he knew what was coming.
In a swirl of sulfur, Kurt materialized on his shoulder, thick toes digging in, tail wrapping tight around Logan's bicep. He sighed and glanced up, and Kurt winked, tangling his fingers in Logan's coarse hair. "Show off," Logan murmured.
"It is a pleasure to see you, too, mein Freund," Kurt answered.
"Hey!!" Logan and Kurt turned in unison as Sam marched up to them, a scowl on his face. "That's cheating. Interference isn't allowed."
"I don't believe I mentioned that in the rules," Kurt said mildly. He didn't bother to get down off of Logan's shoulder. It was a bit like having a gigantic German parrot. "In fact, I don't believe I mentioned any rules at all."
"It's implied," Sam argued. He was joined by Bobby – who knew better than to argue – and Tabby. "We're trying to catch you."
"And I may use any means necessary to prevent that from happening," Kurt said. The tone of his voice clearly conveyed how very much he was enjoying himself.
"Any inanimate means," Tabby chimed in. "Otherwise, you could just ride around on Logan for the rest of the week and we couldn't touch you."
"Now there's a thought," Kurt purred. Sam's face screwed up in irritation, and Logan interrupted before the argument could continue indefinitely.
"Enough. He beat you this time. Now scram so I can go for a swim." Sam looked like he was going to fight more, but Bobby gripped his wrist and tugged. Rolling his eyes, Sam allowed himself to be led away. Logan cocked his head, listening to them crash away through the forest. On his shoulder, Kurt shifted his weight as though he were settling in, and Logan snorted. "Polly want a cracker?"
The kick as Kurt leaped away knocked his shoulder back slightly, and as he twisted gracefully to land, he brought his tail around to deliver a stinging slap to Logan's cheek. Logan growled, flexing his fingers and scowling at his beaming friend. "Think you're clever, elf?" he muttered. "You're lucky I'm not playing your stupid game."
"As if you could catch me any more easily than the rest of them," Kurt answered, tail twitching at his shoulder. Logan was hard-pressed to distinguish between irritation and flirtation in those sinuous movements, so his hand snapped out, catching the blunt tip and holding it tight.
"Wanna say that again?" he taunted. Kurt affected an air of wounded pride, chin lifting, eyes flashing. If he'd started licking the back of his hand, he couldn't have looked more like a cat caught in the aftermath of an embarrassing misjudgment. Smirking, Logan brought the tail-tip to his mouth.
"Logan…" Kurt twitched his tail back, but Logan had a good grip on it and Kurt wasn't really trying all that hard. The tip of his tongue flicked out caressing hard blue flesh. Kurt groaned and clicked his teeth together, a sure sign that he was aroused. Logan laughed, deep in his chest, and swirled his tongue out, staring as Kurt's face took on that heavy-lidded expression of satisfaction that Logan had come to anticipate.
He'd remarked that first night – lightheaded from drink and cigar smoke and the delicious, warm scent of Kurt's fur – that he wouldn't have pegged that rough skin as being particularly sensitive. He still recalled the look of smug satisfaction on Kurt's pointed face. "It isn't," he'd said. "I just like to watch you." Logan had laughed then, knowing that Kurt had just handed him a priceless weapon against his usual bemused, aloof flirtation.
"Looks like I caught you," he murmured. "What do I win?"
"I hadn't really thought that part out yet," Kurt answered, shifting a little closer. Logan caught the scent of him, warmth and dust and a subtle sweetness, like a cat that's been lying in a sunbeam. "What do you want?"
"Think I could come up with a few things," Logan mused. His free hand slipped out, thick arm tightening around Kurt's waist until he was flush against Logan's chest. If Kurt could blush, he would have; the embarrassment was plain on his pointed face and he struggled back, laughing.
"You think they've gone away?" he murmured, tipping his head back as Logan nuzzled his throat. "They'll see you doing this."
"Let 'em," Logan answered. "Nosy little bastards." He stepped back, making quick work of his clothes then kicking them to the side. Kurt tutted under his breath, amusement tweaking the corners of his mouth.
"You'll get spiders in your pants," he chided. Logan knelt in front of him, arms twining around his legs, fingers hooking in the band of Kurt's swimming trunks. He tugged them down slowly, following each inch with his mouth, biting and rubbing against soft fur until Kurt was completely naked, thick fingers tangled in Logan's unruly hair.
"Wicked," he whispered, and then Logan was on him, arms around his waist, weight bearing him down. Kurt reacted eagerly, arms and legs fastening tight around Logan, spine bowing up so that Logan could slip an arm beneath him. Logan smelled the crushed grass beneath Kurt's shoulders, bit at the tender junction of neck and shoulder, and reveled in the slow heat that built in his belly.
He jerked his hips forward and Kurt laughed. "Nein, nein," he murmured, soothing with his hands as his tail slipped between Logan's legs to tighten around the base of his prick. "Not yet." And he squirmed and shifted and contorted until they were inextricably entwined and every movement was a delicious grind against softness. Logan growled deep in his chest, twitched his hips. His prick was pressed tight along the curve of Kurt's slender belly, trapped between the warmth of his own stomach and the velvet caress of Kurt fur.
"You like this?" Kurt murmured. Sharp teeth nipped Logan's earlobe and he groaned. Every pulse of his heart thundered in his ears, every movement ached. His fingers dug into Kurt's flesh, gripping lean muscle, bruising and clawing. Kurt took it, sighing and whimpering and arching into each rough touch and every time he moved his hips pressed up, rubbed against Logan's prick. The grind of his fur, soft and feverishly warm, was not nearly enough. Logan slipped an arm beneath Kurt's hips, lifted and twisted and maneuvered until he was fucking down against the ridge of Kurt's hip. It was deliciously painful, hard bone covered and tempered by velvet fur.
Snarling, gasping, Logan nuzzled along Kurt's neck. The dusty-sweet scent of his skin, the litheness of his body, the all-over softness – Kurt filled his senses, and he bit at the other mutant's jaw, hips moving faster. It struck him, suddenly, that Kurt, perhaps, was not drawing as much enjoyment from this as he was, but when he tensed and started to pull away, Kurt's hand pressed the back of his neck. He whispered, rapturous German that Logan half understood, and then his sharp little teeth sank into Logan's shoulder and Logan smelled his own blood, tiny pinpricks that tickled his nose and sent his senses spiraling into overdrive.
He gripped Kurt hard around the waist, muscles flexed so tight that his arms were like steel cables. Kurt arched against him, twisting and contorting his slim body, dragging his thick nails up Logan's back as Logan shuddered, gasped, spilled himself. Warmth spread through his body, flooding out from his hips, and he relaxed all at once, releasing Kurt and rolling to the side with a soft sigh.
"Feel better?" Kurt murmured. Logan focused sleepy eyes on him as he rose, graceful and fairly vibrating with suppressed energy. His prick was rock hard, the fur along one side of his hip matted and sticky. He pursed his lips and flicked the mess with his tail. Logan grunted, craning his neck to watch as Kurt turned and walked to the edge of the water.
"Cleaning off?" he called. Kurt shot him an irritated look and Logan laughed softly. The grass pricked his back and he rolled his shoulders, scratching lazily. He already felt the stirrings of renewed lust tickling low in his belly, and he stretched. There was a splash, a gasp from Kurt as he submerged himself in the cold water.
It would be easy now to just get up, pull on his clothes, and walk away and, in fact, not at all out of character for him. He thought about the kids, about Scott and Jean back at the cabins. Kurt wouldn't hold it against him if he left. He never had before. Logan sat up, reached for his jeans, and paused. While it was his habit to fuck and run… where was he going to go? He'd just end up the same way he started, hot and sweaty and pissed off that Scott was monopolizing Jean's time. He turned, watched Kurt paddle around the swimming hole on his back, a blissful expression on his pointed face.
Why sit in the sun and be lonely when there was perfectly good company to be had right here in the shade? He dropped his jeans and waded into the water, smiling in the face of Kurt's confusion and wrapping his arms around Kurt's slim waist until his expression smoothed. He returned the embrace, sleek and warm against Logan's chest, and his lips traced a soft path down Logan's jaw.
"Guess that means I'm allowed to stay," Logan murmured. Kurt laughed, then gasped as Logan's rough hand circled his prick, stroking slowly, teasingly. He breathed out shakily, yellow eyes heavy with pleasure, pink tongue flicking out to caress his lower lip.
"Guess it does…"