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There was something about being a Feral that no other mutant could understand; something that a non-mutant could never hope to begin to fathom: pack. There were times when two Feral mutants would meet and they would hate each other and try to tear each other limb-from-limb, instantaneous and immediate enemies. Then, other times, two Feral mutants would meet and there was an instant attraction, just as immediate and just as real; this was the meeting of packmates.
The first time that they’d met, Logan had wanted the kid; wanted him and had him, hard and fast and raw on a shower stall floor.
The second time they’d met had been in the middle of a barroom brawl. Turns out the kid didn’t have mutant healing abilities. Logan had taken him to a hotel, wrapped his ribs, cleaned him up and they’d slept together, just slept, curled naked in each other’s arms. That’s when Logan had known that the kid was pack. He’d taken the kid slowly in the early morning light, careful of his broken ribs and swollen-shut eye. Afterwards, they had curled back up and slept for a few more hours. By the time Logan left, he knew that the kid was healing well and could take care of himself.
The third time they’d met Logan had run away from the mansion and had been working with a group of mercenaries deep in the jungle; he didn’t give a shit about their cause, but damn their money was nice. He’d caught the kid’s scent when he’d been going to check on the prisoner – some politician’s son the guys who signed the paychecks were holding for ransom. Logan knew that he should have killed the kid, that’s what he was paid for; but the kid – who really wasn’t a kid anymore at all – was pack. Logan had killed two of his fellow mercenaries on the way out, but Eliot had offered half his pay for extraction and he and Logan had spent the next week naked on a private island. They understood each other in a way even they couldn’t comprehend.
The next time they met, Logan didn’t know who Eliot was; he was still overcoming Apocalypse's programming and his mind was like swiss cheese. He knew the scent of the long-haired man at the bar, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know where. He couldn’t place the man. But he saw the man scent the air and then turn and look right at him. Deep blue eyes looked right at him and didn’t blink, it should have been a challenge, but it wasn’t; Logan didn’t know how he knew that, but he was sure of it. And then when the man had walked right passed Logan and out the back door of the seedy bar, the pheromones in the air had made Logan instantly hard and he’d followed the ass in those tight jeans out to the alley. They had fucked hard and raw, the stucco had ripped the hell out of Logan’s back as he’d ridden the not-a-stranger’s cock. Something was so familiar, trying to work through the fog, dancing just out of reach. They’d come and Logan had righted his pants and walked away without a word. He wasn’t ready for the questions, not yet.
The next time Logan saw the man was on the CCTV that Jubilee had hacked into; the traffic camera just so happened to capture the front door of the FOH headquarters. The picture clearly showed the man, he was wearing a suit and a pair of glasses, his long hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his face was exactly the same as three years ago. Mutants joining FOH… it made Logan sick. Anger rippled through him, stronger than it should have considering he only remembered meeting the man one time three years ago, his claws extended without his realization for the first time since he’d woken up in the snow seven years ago.
Three days later Chuck said it was time to make a move on FOH and free those who they were holding hostage.
“Somebody else is in there,” Oro said as they landed the jet on the roof. She was scanning the channels to make sure they remained unnoticed.
“Who is it?” Cyclops asked as he was giving a quick pre-mission stretch.
Oro tapped a few buttons and listened more closely to the com chatter. “I can’t get a lock on the signal, it’s buried very well. So far three male voices and two female, but there could be more. They aren’t using code names. Nathan, Hardison, Parker, Sophie, Spencer. Sophie is distracting someone, sounds like a guard.”
“Someone else is doin’ the distractin’,” Rogue said, “I vote we go in now.”
“We don’ know what dey doin, chere,” Remy countered.
“Nathan has just asked Spencer if he’d located the false wall. Our intel says that there is a false wall hiding the entrance to the cells,” Oro said, one ear on the coms the other on her team.
“I’m goin’ in there and gettin’ those kids out,” Logan said, antsy with wanting a fight and a cigar. “To hell with the other team.” He turned and walked to the ramp, stepping down to the roof.
Cyclops sighed, he really wished that Wolverine wouldn’t go off half-cocked all the time. He also knew the other man was right. “We stick to our plan,” he told his team. “Storm stay here and listen to their chatter, let us know what they’re up to. And since you can’t get a handle on their signal’s origin, burry ours as deep as you can.”
There was more light inside than Logan had been planning on; for some reason he’d pictured having to move around in perfect darkness, but in fact about a third of the overhead lights were on. He made great time getting to the area where they knew the entrance was. He was just around the corner when three things happened at once, he scented the man again, Oro’s voice in his ear told him to look out, and a cool blade was pressed to his throat as a warm body stepped behind him.
Sloppy he chided himself.
“Tell me you’re not a mercenary again, Logan,” a gravelly voice said in his ear. “Because this job is probono, so I got nothin’ to split this time.” The man’s face was suddenly pressed right against Logan’s neck and he felt the hardness of an erection pressing against his ass. “Though another lost week on a Caribbean island does sound tempting.”
“I’m not the asshole comin’ in here nine to five everyday in a fancy suit,” Logan growled back.
The hand not holding the knife squeezed Logan’s ass boldly. “Speaking of suits… I’m loving the leather. Haven’t seen you proper from the front yet, but I’m bettin’ your package looks amazing as your ass.”
The movement was enough, Logan twisted, ignoring the bite of the blade at his throat, he pulled out his claws of his right hand and pinned the man to the wall with his left, lifting him off the ground just a bit.
The man didn’t panic though. In fact he smirked and suddenly wrapped his legs around Logan’s hips, the reversal of their last meeting in the alley. “Hey Nate,” the man said, still smirking. “We have some backup in here – group in black leather. Seems like they’re here with the same mission.”
Logan didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move either. Then suddenly there was a flash in his mind of this man as a kid, sixteen or seventeen tops, naked and soaked in sweat and come on a cold tile floor, ”Eliot,” the kid said, introducing himself.
Logan pulled his claws back in and relaxed his grip on Eliot’s throat.
Eliot stood and walked towards the wall. “Hardison, you done hackin this thing yet?”
Less than twenty minutes later the prisoners were all loaded onto the jet and Wolverine was following, making sure they were clear, when Eliot came off the jet and walked up to him. He was pulled down into a hot, demanding kiss that was full of teeth and hot promises.
Then he walked away, climbed down the fire escape and into a waiting van.
Logan borrowed Scott’s bike that night and tore off into the city, seeking Eliot’s scent. He caught it eventually and followed to a small hotel by the interstate. He followed that scent right up to the door and knocked.
“Bout damned time,” Eliot said as he opened the door and pulled Logan in by his tee shirt. He fused his mouth to Logan’s, even as he reached over and locked the door.
Logan propelled them to the bed and groaned when the scent of Eliot surrounded him as they bounced from how hard they hit the mattress. Hands were suddenly everywhere, throwing clothes away and leaving hot trails on bare skin as it was revealed.
Eliot squirmed away and turned over to grab the lube from his bag and Logan took the opportunity to bite the soft flesh of his ass. Eliot threw his head back and moaned as he pressed back and presented his ass brazenly for more. He whimpered when Logan’s tongue laved his crack and pressed against his hole. He was lost in the sensation of it and barely had the brainpower to push the bottle of lube back towards Logan.
Logan knew from the pheromones pouring off of the man, that Eliot could come just from this, from his tongue teasing Eliot’s hole. The power behind that made him all the harder and he knew he had to take his packmate now. He slicked himself with one hand and quickly pushed two fingers of his other into Eliot’s writing body.
“OH FUCK YEAH!” Eliot cried out, pushing back onto those probing, stretching fingers. “The fuck are you waiting for? Fuck me already!”
Logan didn’t need to be told twice, he mounted Eliot properly, draping half of his bodyweight over the smaller man’s back and pushed into him in one long press. When he was fully seated he stayed as still as he could, knowing that Eliot would need a moment to adjust, they were both sweating and panting.
And then Eliot was rocking back and forth, arching his back just so and Logan couldn’t hold back anymore. He held Eliot’s hips in a deathgrip and slammed into his hot little hole over and over again. Both of them were growling and snarling in passion, the animal within each of them reveling in this. Eliot’s fingers had the bedspread in a white-knuckled grip as he canted back against every one of Logan’s forceful thrusts, taking everything that Logan had, everything that he offered.
Logan’s voice was in his ear, breathy and gravelly and saying his name like a mantra. Suddenly there was a tight fist around Eliot’s dripping cock and two jerks had him coming hard and fast, head thrown back and howling in triumph even as Logan’s teeth closed hard on his nape and he was filled and claimed.
Afterward they curled, sweaty and come-splattered, on top of the covers; Eliot’s fingers playing unthinkingly in Logan’s chest hair. “What is it?” Eliot asked gently.
“Nothin,” Logan dismissed.
Eliot reached over to the bag where he’d gotten the lube and pulled out a cigar. He lit it and handed it to Logan. “Then shut your brain off. You’re thinkin’ too loud.”
Logan chuckled. “Can I ask you somethin’ without you tryin’ to kick my ass?”
“I’d do better than try, but sure.”
Logan puffed on the cigar for a second, realizing it was his preferred blend. Realizing how well this man knew him. “Few years back… got caught up with a really bad guy. He fucked my head up pretty good. … … How long have we been doin’ this?”
Eliot sighed. “I wondered why you looked at me like you didn’t know me.” He stole a quick puff of the cigar. “We been at this since I was too young to know better. Never been anything official or anything. Just… we run into each other, we back each other up in whatever shit we’re in, we fall into the nearest bed and fuck like wild dogs. S’a’nice set up.”
“So… no strings?”
Eliot chuckled at that. “Never liked strings, myself. Tend to tie you up. But I’ve got your back. And you’ve proved plenty that you’ve got mine. It works.”
Logan nodded. “First time I smelled you, you smelled like pack and I didn’t know why.”
“Was that in the bar a few years back?”
“How’d you know?”
Eliot smiled, “You never said my name. Since you learned it that first time… you say it every time. It was weird. But you said it this time. Do you remember me at all?”
“Few flashes. It’s your scent mostly.”
Eliot nodded, understanding. “D’ya want to hear? I mean, not much to tell, but I can tell you what there is.”
Logan smiled and pulled the other man to him. “I think I might like that.”
Early the next morning Logan reached out and found cool sheets beside him. When he looked up, he saw Eliot dressing in tight jeans and a black button-down. “Team’s heading out,” he explained. Then he leaned down, grabbed Logan by the hair and kissed him hard and deep. A piece of paper was thrust into his hand even as a tongue was thrust into his mouth.
Eliot pulled away quickly and Logan couldn’t help the small growl.
“I was thinkin’; you know what I said about strings? They can tether too. Learned that havin’ a team to come home to. Keep in touch on purpose this time,” Eliot said.
Logan looked down at the paper, saw a hastily-scrawled email address and smirked. A Feral needed their pack; Eliot seemed to understand that.