Eager to get to the mystery pick-up across the street Wolverine found the store for her gloves at light speed. A fancy looking vintage shop of all things, overstuffed with such a huge variety of hats, feathery things way to girly to look at for long, and gee-jaws and doo-dads he had no idea what they were. Momentarily overwhelmed by the bewildering display of colors and texture, he reached out blindly, grabbed a passing salesperson, and dragged them into his view.
“Well, helloooooo handsome,” cooed a young man with a bleached white pompadour and Elvis Costello square glasses. “What can I do you for?” Wolverine stifled the urge to blarf at the guy’s putrid burnt orange and brown bowling shirt with the name Peaches embroidered on the breast. Gotta appreciate the original folks.
“Yeh, gloves, I need gloves.” He squinted at Rogue’s untidy scrawl on the page. “Sheer silk, nylon, leather.” Leather, heh heh, love it.
“Oh dearest, I have JUST what you’re looking for,” Peaches crowed as he grabbed Wolverine’s elbow and dragged him forcibly to the back of the store and began digging enthusiastically through a giant bin of gloves in every shape and color.
“These are verrrrrry Marlon Brando in The Wild One, muy macho,” Peaches announced holding up what looked less like Marlon Brando and more like a BDSM club, with spikes and ties and all sort of complicated shit.
Wolverine pulled his hand back as Peaches tried to wrestle one of the gloves over his forearm. “Sorry, not those. I need a small and something simple.”
“Honeybunch, I know we girls like to lie about our size but these-“ Peaches grabbed Wolverine’s wrists and held his hands up “-paws are not going to fit a small. Despite your height I can tell you’re a larrrrrge.” The guy gave him a blatant once over from head to toe.
Wolverine couldn’t help it and started to laugh as he pried the shop clerks’ clutches from him. “Sorry, Peaches, but they’re for my girlfriend.”
Peaches made a moue of disappointment and turned to once again dive into the glove bin, muttering, “Why are all the good ones straight?”
One bag crammed full of gloves in every style Rogue asked for plus a few Wolverine took a shine to, plus the lipsticks and one perfume he found light and clean enough for his palate, and Wolverine was ready for the coup de grace. He stopped at the bike to stuff everything into the duffle he’d left hanging on the handlebars and lugged it across the parking lot. No sense in leaving the shit with the bike to get nicked.
Ah, here we are, like the fucking golden arches for the horny: Pleasure Principle. The dark young man was pleased to see the shop didn’t favor the girly pink with neon hearts so many adult stores favored, as though they could fool anyone that this was a romance store and not a shop more skewed to the bumping-uglies-fast-and-furious crowd. Black shop front with even blacker windows, red Xs and lightning bolts by the door told him with any luck he’d become a frequent shopper.
Unfortunately, there was no crowd of pervs to blend into as it was 11am on a Saturday morning. Only a geriatric geezer examining the butt plugs who looked too old to still have those urges and a face-pierced chick slumped lazily by the register, flicking through a porn magazine. She gave Wolverine the hairy eyeball when the door closed behind him and he blinked at the drastic change from blinding sunlight outside to the darkness of the store. All he saw was leather and dildos everywhere. Legit.
“Gotta be 18 to come in here, kid,” she drawled, putting down her mag and resting both elbows on the counter as she looked him over with a bored expression.
Not one to resist a challenge, Wolverine stalked over to her with as much bravado as his 5’4” stature allowed, reached into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and rifled some bills so she could see.
“You work on commission, right?” he smirked.
Her eyes widened briefly before she smothered her interest in the greenbacks with another studied look of boredom. “Alright, you’re 18.”
Wolverine nodded at her stellar business acumen and began to prowl the store. Hot damn, there was all kinda freaky shit in here. He’d wanted to check out a store like this before but never had the chance or need, what with no money and easy normal girls who were content with a quick pump and dump…or at least a pump. The dump a few of them took issue with. But that was the past. Now he was looking for something special for a very special goth girl with dick sucking lips and deadly kisses and an attitude that made him wanna crawl on broken glass if she asked. Maybe a few something specials if something caught his eye and screamed “Put me in your mouth, on your cock, in your girl, FUCK MEEEEEEE!”
Ok, gotta reign in the wild horses of imagination because as much as he suspected Rogue might be up for some fun and games, maybe some kink, he doubted the ball gag he currently had in his hand would go over very well. Shit, they’d only fooled around, not sure either she or he was ready for THAT…yet. Heh heh. Besides, the noises Rogue had made when he brought her over on top of those shitty crates in the warehouse, well that wasn’t something he was interested in muffling with a gag. He’d make her sing that song anytime she let him. Loud and proud.
Wolverine was poking through the shelves looking for something to shriek Rogue at him. The fuzzy handcuffs held no interest but the leather straps linked by a chain, soft and supple but strong enough to keep even a Wolverine in check held his attention, until he couldn’t get them off. Christ on a crutch, his hands were now lashed together in such a way he couldn’t bend one wrist to undo the other. After several minutes of surreptitious struggling and chain rattling loud enough to make the butt plug man creep too close for comfort he managed to free himself without busting out the claws.
Yeh, he could just see Rogue screaming at him to untie her and him fumbling like a idiot. Not gonna happen. He turned to a shelf full of jars and tubes. Hmmm, heated body oil, cooling body oil, hmm. He screwed the top off one jar and recoiled at the menthol scent, then another with an artificial cinnamon smell that made him cough. Ugh, not it either. He entertained himself for a bit with a set of XXX dice, envisioning in detail a few of the creative combinations the pervy little blocks suggested Rogue and him try out, but that wasn’t it either. He was getting ahead of himself. He needed something simple to start out with, see what got his woman’s motor running then maybe they could come back for something spicier later on. He settled on a bottle of unscented body oil, figuring enough grease and things might slip and slide a bit easier on bare skin. An image of Rogue clad sprawled shining and slick and front of him was something to savor. But still it wasn’t what he was looking for.
Wolverine was starting to get irritated as he batted through a rack of lacey and leathery butt floss thingies, nothing meeting his unique requirements for something that revealed paradise and covered hell at the same time. He slumped in despair against a shelf and was turning over a rubber ducky that doubled as a clit stimulator when a voice behind him made him jump.
“That’s one of our best sellers. Very discrete.” Damn you shopgirl! What was it with sale people today all up his ass?
He shoved the ducky back on the shelf, knocking over a double sided dildo in the process which fell to the floor with an embarrassing thud. Butt perv looked over at Wolverine, down to the giant dong on the floor, then up and winked at the boy. Wolverine didn’t bother to bite back the snarl that erupted from his throat and was viciously pleased to see the ancient letch hobble away as fast as his arthritic legs could carry him.
Turning his attention back to the hovering shop bitch he grunted, “I look discrete to you?”
She was thoroughly unimpressed. “You look like you need some help. For you or for her?” Ok, so she wasn’t stupid, score one for the chick with the barbell through her cheek.
“Her,” he said shortly and looked around helplessly. There was a ton of orifice violating shit around him but nothing he was looking for. “I need something to cover her with.”
“Kinky,” Barbell remarked with a twinkle in her eye.
“Nah, not like that. Thing is, she’s got this skin thing going on-“
The girl’s nose crinkled in disgust, “Like a rash?”
“No!” he shouted in embarrassment. The old perv from Family Guy peeked his head over a stack and ducked down again at the stink eye Wolverine gave him. “No,” he said in a normal tone now. “Her skin…it’s…ah…dangerous…” He didn’t know what else to say without going into an embarrassing explanation about powers and shit and how he wanted to bone a girl without dying.
“Ahhhhh mutant,” Barbell said wisely. “Got a couple of things that might help.”
Wolverine looked at her in obvious surprise, to which the girl flipped back the hair from her temples. Scales, iridescent greenish purple scales, traced the edges of her face. He sighed in relief.
Barbell smiled conspiratorially, and he caught a glimpse of a forked tongue as she spoke, “Kid, you ain’t the first guy who needed to get creative with a mutie girlfriend.”
He laughed, “She ain’t the only mutie.” He flicked the claws on one hand and preened inwardly at the impressed look Barbell gave him.
“Fucking wicked.”
He shrugged at her compliment and got down to business since there was no longer any need for embarrassment. “Her skin does like this soul sucking thing if you touch her bare handed, but I got gloves. I need something else.”
“Gotcha.” Barbell flicked her head to the other side of the store. “Bodysuits sound good? We got some that feel like nothing’s there.”
“Sound excellent.”
“Ever heard of liquid latex? Dries in minutes, fits like a dream, and you can tear it off piece by piece later if you’re so inclined.”
Wolverine nodded enthusiastically. “You’re about to earn your commission.”
At check-out Wolverine almost lost his shit at the dollar amount that popped up on the register but, upon looking over his delightful collection of confections he hoped to decorate Rogue with, he considered it a long-term investment and plunked down the dinero. Just as Barbell, who was actually called Viper, stashed the last of his goodies into black and red bags, he remembered.
“My girl said there was a package here for me to pick up. Her name’s Rogue.” He was dying of curiosity to see what she’d gotten.
“Oh Rogue’s your girlfriend?” Viper perked up. “She is so cool, I should’ve guessed when you said the skin thing.”
“Yeh? She been in here before?” Oh ho, his girl had a dirty streak. Maybe he should go back for those leather straps.
“Nah, I came to Xavier’s my last year there,” Viper grinned at him as she pulled a brown paper wrapped package from under the counter and handed it to him. “She told to tell the guy who picked it up, and I quote, ‘Don’t’ you fucking dare open it or I’ll drain you’ end quote.” She grinned wickedly at Wolverine.
“Christ, she knows what I like,” he joked as he plucked at a loose edge of the plain wrapping.
“Nope!” Viper slapped his hand hard. “I’ll call her and tell her you peeked!”
“Women,” Wolverine huffed and stuffed the box into his duffle.
“Don’t you know it. See ya later Wolverine!” Viper chimed as he shuffled out the door with his now over-laden duffle.
Happily lugging his now full to bursting bag across the parking lot, Wolverine checked his watch. Yup, 45 minutes to get back to the Institute, shove down some lunch, give Rogue a her list shit and still get to shop class. His easy reverie came to a screeching halt when he turned the last corner of the parking lot and saw a supremely unpleasant sight sprawled across Rogue’s motorcycle.
“Vicky,” he said stiffly as he dropped the duffle with a thump and crouched down, fists clenches, claws itching to come out.
“Its Sabertooth,” the 18 year old snarled as he sat up on the bike and grimaced, displaying some seriously dangerous looking long and sharp canines.
Huh, easy to wind up the guy up. Good to know. “Whatever, VICKY,” he snarled, relishing the tension he saw scrawl up the much larger boy’s back and across his face.
“Shopping Wolverine? Get yourself some frilly panties?” Victor snarled sarcastically, his gaze falling on the black and red bag spilling out of the duffle. “Ah, Pleasure Principle. Me and Rogue had a lot of fun with that store.” He smirked knowingly and Wolverine’s itched to slide out. “Does it bother you, runt? To know you’re not the first.”
Wolverine snarled and took a few angry paces forward until he was within striking range of the guy he knew he was going to have whoop ass on in a few seconds.
“I know you got an animal in you, runt,” Victor continued sleekly, the nastiness dripping from every word. “Bet it drives you nuts to know some other guy already claimed your territory, your sweet little Rogue.”
“You shut the fuck up!” Wolverine growled, his voice dipping into the lower registers as something in the back of his mind howled in anger.
“To know she used wrap those sweet little legs around me and scream my-“
With a snarl Wolverine launched himself at the bigger guy. His unexpectedly swift reaction to Vicky’s taunt caught the blonde feral off guard and they both toppled over the motorcycle, which crashed to its side. Wolverine pummeled every inch he could reach, cursing a blue streak. His elbow made a satisfyingly loud crunching noise at it drove into Victor’s nose and the sight and stench of the bastard’s blood had the noise in his head scream with bloodlust. The blonde guy’s razor sharp nails scrabbled at his neck, drawing even more blood as they fastened around his throat and squeezed painfully.
“Hey! Break it up!” a voice shouted.
Wolverine paused with his claws an inch out of his skin and halfway to Victor’s gut to catch sight of a mall security guard. “Knock it off or I’ll pepper spray you both!” Sure enough the guy had a canister in the size of a small fire extinguisher in his hand.
Not something Wolverine wanted to try twice, the first time in juvie had been sheer hell and he’d snotted and puked for 6 hours afterwards. He raised both his hands and sat back from when he’d crouched over Victor, then stood up. “It’s cool, just fucking around, sir.”
“Yeh,” came the blonde feral’s voice from the ground. “Just fucking around.” Wolverine looked down to see Victor’s tongue lash out and lick the blood from his upper lip with an evil gleam in his eyes.
“Get the fuck outta here before I call the cops,” the guard barked as the hand holding the pepper spray swung back and forth between the two boys.
“No problem,” Wolverine huffed. He scooped up his duffle and flung it on his back, righted the bike and kicked it to life. He shot one last glare at Victor as the huge mutant stood up and smirked at him. “This ain’t finished, Vicky.”
“No, it ain't,” the feral agreed, a dangerous promise in the smile he directed at Wolverine’s back as the smaller teen roared off in a spray of gravel that peppered his chest. Sabertooth casually dusted himself off as he grumbled, “Not by a long shot, runt.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Next chapter will be up Saturday evening!
I'm a comment whore, feed the beast!
I'm a comment whore, feed the beast!
Chapter End Notes:
what happens with those presents?
up Saturday night!
up Saturday night!