Logan had always liked thunderstorms. 

He loved the unpredictability. He loved the pure power of thunder crashing and the way lightning followed, beautiful, deadly, dangerous. The roll of the clouds as they slowly gained strength, the sweet stinging fresh smell of rain, everything just made him… calm. 

Well. 

Calmer. 

He didn’t generally worry about being alone. Wheels had practically gift-wrapped this little slice of heaven for him, a small shack that looked abandoned, out in the middle of the forest on the Westchester property. Logan had a bed here, although he didn’t often use it. He didn’t mess with a fireplace, worried the scent of woodsmoke would bring people to investigate. There was no power. He did have two heavy quilts, a bunch of books, and some barbells, in case he felt bored. 

The place had a tiny screened porch. The rocking chair was older than god and squeaked satisfactorily when he used it. Whoever had it before him must have had a bigger ass, because the flat chair part was wider than he expected. Well, maybe it was made for two people. Whatever, it was smooth and comfortable and the simple pleasure it offered was just what Logan needed.  Sometimes Logan would just sit out there for hours. Sometimes just sitting, sometimes reading, sometimes whittling.  Wheels had offered to make the place more permanent, but Logan liked the isolation. 

So when he caught a whiff of a familiar scent, heavy over the ozone of the lightning, Logan’s first impression was to tense up. He stared at the disturbance, the crack of a log that was heavier than any animal should be. Since she’d gotten the Cure, the sweet vanilla cinnamon scent of her had changed. (Not that he tended to notice her scent. Not at all.) Since the cure had failed, the intoxicating scent had darkened a little. Grown unstable. (He’d still recognize it blindfolded, out of his goddamn mind, from miles away.)

Marie.

“Damnit, kid. I taught you to be quieter than that.” Logan took a deep drag on his cigar, blowing lazy smoke circles. 

She cursed under her breath, and Logan managed not to smile outright. She reminded him of a pissed-off kitten when she swore. He tried not to find it cute and failed. “Scott told me you were out on a mission. Sorry, sugar. I can leave you to your solitude.” She’d been walking in the rain for god knew how long. Her long hair was scraggly and flattened, dripping into her face. There were several leaves in it. She wore thin leggings and a t-shirt, with a large plaid shirt and her ever-present scarves and gloves. She had on canvas shoes that looked to have half the water on Wheels’ property inside of them. 

Logan caught the salty-sour scent of her tears and all traces of humor dissipated.  He sat up and carefully stubbed out the cigar, tossing it into the corner of the little screened-in porch.  “No. Come here. What’s up, kid.” 

Marie’s lip actually wobbled, and Logan felt a moment of pure, unadulterated panic at the sight. He jumped up and crossed the few steps inside to get one of the blankets and a towel that Logan used for his workouts. It probably smelled a bit ripe, but it was dry. The blanket, on the other hand, was large and fluffy and would help make her feel better. She stood there on the other side of the screen and Logan opened his arms and the towel, waiting.

Marie’s shoulders slumped and she walked forward. She kicked off her shoes, leaving them in a wet heap near the cigar. She walked into his arms, and Logan rubbed her off with the wet towel like he would a wet dog.  She stood there passively and let him. Her pale skin broke out in goosebumps, and Logan realized that while he didn’t really feel the cold, she most certainly did. 

It made Logan frown. “Seriously kid. It’s like fifty degrees out, and just gonna get colder. What were you thinkin’? What’s wrong?” 

Marie put one hand on his forearm, and Logan jerked his gaze to hers. “Do you… do you think you can not call me a kid? Please?” 

Logan’s immediate response of ‘but you’re barely seventeen. You are a kid.’ was tough to keep behind his teeth, but he managed. He wasn’t particularly good at comforting crying females, but like it or not, she was here now. Logan felt the same pull he’d always felt towards her, and it made him feel a little keyed up like there was too much lightning near his adamantine. When she’d hitched a ride with him back in Alberta, he’d been surprised to feel any sort of connection with anyone, let alone a half-starved runaway. He’d told himself he was like a father figure to her, or a big brother, and tried to take care of her. When any sort of thought that wasn’t fatherly or brotherly popped into his head he ruthlessly strangled it. 

She was much, much too sweet for him, and always would be. 

“Sure.”  He tossed the towel to the side and sat down in the rocker, holding the blanket so that he could wrap it around her.  “Come on then.” 

The thought of inviting her inside was absolutely not an option. He only had one bed and no other furniture. No fuckin’ way would he test his control that way. It was hard enough to keep to this protective, older friend that she seemed to need. Jeannie might have teased him that the ki– that Marie had a crush on him, but Logan doubted that very much. She’d never smelled desirous or turned on when she was around him. It wasn’t the thick scent of want (something that Logan had smelled on hundreds of hundreds of women- and more than a few men-- throughout the years), but her own sweetness. 

Marie sat on his lap a little awkwardly, but once he wrapped the blanket around her, she settled easily enough, burrowing into its comfort and his warmth with equal measure. She sighed, long, like a woman who had just slipped into a bath after a very long shift on an even longer day.  

“I was on a mission. Wheels called me in, said I should spend tonight here and come back to the mansion tomorrow.” 

She made a small sound to indicate she’d heard him but didn’t say anything. 

Logan liked this. Maybe… a little too much. He liked the way she felt on his lap, her legs over the other arm of the chair, his arms loosely around her back and on her leg. He liked the scent of them together, stronger with her enveloped in the blanket. It was peaceful, with the sound of the rain and the occasional rolling thunder. 

When she started to cry, Logan froze and tightened his arms around her. She didn’t heave giant, dramatic sobs. Instead, her eyes spilled over, almost quietly. Marie started to shift out of his arms, but Logan shushed her, his voice more of a low rumble than actual words. He moved one hand up and down her back, under the blanket, and ignored her shuddering breaths as she cried out whatever had upset her enough to trample out here in the middle of nowhere. The rain came down harder. Time passed, and Logan just rocked lazily with his boot heel. He wanted to know what the fuck was wrong, but he didn’t want to push.  Eventually, his patience was rewarded. 

“The Cure didn’t work. You know that, right?” 

Logan nodded. It took effort not to grit his teeth. He had been horrified that she’d done it, but god. He understood. He’d never met a kid so touch-starved. She was so fuckin’ sweet, and it killed him that no one would ever be able to see it. One day she’d want someone (and yeah okay, that feeling made his eyes narrow, which no, that’s not a surprise exactly, but had no place here and now.) and she’d want all the hearts and flowers, the intimate, sweet touches,  and could never have it.  Not without a fuckton of planning, which yeah, sure, probably seemed like the end of the world to her right now. 

“I hurt Bobby. He broke up with me.” 

Logan winced. “Yeah?” He’d seen that one coming. 

She sniffed and rubbed her face on the blanket, which was disgusting, but made his heart do a weird flip in his chest. She shifted to pull her hand out and formed a little ice statue of him, arms and claws extended.  Logan picked it up from her hand and set it down on the floor. That shifted the way she sat on his lap. Her clothes were cold and clammy against his skin. Long habit had the two of them making sure that he didn’t actually touch skin to skin, but for a second, Logan wished that he could stroke her back and shoulders like he would if she still had the Cure. 

She sniffed again, and her lips brushed against his muttonchops.  Logan swallowed, suddenly very aware of their proximity. “It goes in and out. Some days I’m Cured. Some days I’m a mutant. Some days my face will be dangerous but like, my toes will be fine. I h-h-hate it. I hate it so much, Logan.” She started to cry again and Logan felt his own eyes prickle. Logan had made peace with the fact that life was unfair. He wasn’t a particularly nice person, and he figured that he’d accumulated enough shitty Karma that he wouldn’t be having anything fair for another hundred years. 

But this wasn’t fair to her. Not to her.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Logan bent to kiss her forehead, and he didn’t feel the heart-stopping tingle of her mutation draining him. He kissed her forehead again, longer, pressing his lips with a little more intent. Marie curled into his heat with a small, sad sound, and Logan brought his arm around her, hugging her to him.  He brushed his closed lips over each eyelid, and back up to her forehead.  His mind was shrieking at him, that he needed to back the fuck off, that he was acting like some fuckin’ pervert for holding her like this, even if she was upset. He wasn’t someone who was particularly comforting. Him doing this was extremely out of his comfort zone, but using his lips against her warm skin also felt like the right thing to do. His instincts were screaming at him to make her feel better. At his kiss, she cried even harder and turned into his body completely, clearly seeking the touch and the comfort that his touch brought. 

She eventually cried herself out and sat curled into him until the only sound she made was the occasional hiccuping breath. Lightning flashed, and Logan looked off at the sky, settling back in the chair. Marie wiped her cheeks and settled one hand in her lap, and left the other curled in his t-shirt. Logan liked that she felt safe with him.  His right hand cupped her hip, and he realized he was lightly moving the pad of his thumb against her hip bone, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin leggings. His other hand rested partially on the arm of the rocking chair, and partially on her leg, just above her ankle from where she had her legs stretched out in front of her.  He kept them rocking with one foot, and the two of them sat there on the dilapidated little porch, watching the storm. 

 It was almost impossibly peaceful.

“Logan?” 

“Hmm?”

“Would you kiss me?” 

Logan whipped his head to face her, which was a mistake. His breath caught in his chest. Her brown eyes were wide, lashes still a little clumped from crying. The white streaks in her hair seemed to blaze under the light of the lightning, and she was close enough that he could feel her breath on his lips. He swallowed, hard. 

“I did kiss you.”  Logan ignored the way her gaze dipped to his lips when he spoke. He shut his eyes and tipped back his head. Logan had to keep his head here, away from the sweetness she offered,  because she was too damn young for what popped into his head.  

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Yeah, no fucking shit. Logan got that. 

“You’re too young for me to be kissin’ you.” 

She sighed a tiny puff of breath against his cheek. He felt her lips against the side of his neck, with the barest whisper of sensation.  Every muscle he had tensed under her. “I strike you as particularly immature? I can fight with the X-Men against those that would hurt others. I can kill someone if they fuck with me or mine, and I’m too young to kiss who I want?” 

Logan snorted. He opened his eyes again to stare out at the rain.  “I’m not arguing with you. It’s not fair, but it is the law, kid.” He used kid deliberately, more to remind himself than to hurt her, although he could see that was its effect by the way she flinched.

“You don’t seem like someone who is all that worried about the law.” She kissed his neck again. “Do you want me to kiss you, Logan?” She turned so that her body was curled more into his then looked up at him again, her gaze direct. 

Logan was having trouble keeping up. Her scent changed, thickened, and hit him like a brick to the face. 

Had he thought she didn’t smell like arousal? 

Logan felt like he’d buried his face in the core of her. He could almost taste her sweetness, and he wanted to growl. 

He wanted a lot of things. 

When he didn’t answer her, she kissed the bristly skin on his neck, kissing down one jugular and to his naked shoulder. She shifted in his lap so that she was straddling him, squeezing her knees into the space between his hips and the rocking chair arms. The blanket was around them. Logan spared a thought for the fact that she had a shoulder and part of her forearm that had no covering, but he felt the scrape of her teeth and had to breathe.

He wanted to grab her more tightly, to fuse their bodies together.  

Instead, he tightened his hands on the arms of the rocking chair so that he wouldn’t touch. “What are you doing?” 

Marie scoffed instead of answering. “What does it look like? I’m gonna kiss you before you dump me on my ass.” 

And she did. 

Her lips weren’t tentative. He assumed this wasn’t her first kiss, but it was their first kiss, and all the more overwhelming for it. For all that Logan tried to keep this from happening, it felt inevitable. 

She pressed her lips against his, innocently, once, then again. She kissed the side of his mouth and his chin, then went back to his lips.  Logan felt the wood he gripped give an almighty creak, but he managed not to touch her, not responding, and not kissing her back. He felt like he was clinging with his fingers and toenails to his attempt to be good. Marie pulled back and opened her eyes. Logan stared at her. He watched her lower lip give an almighty wobble, then watched as the tears sprung to her eyes, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. When she curled in on herself and started to pull away, Logan finally moved.

He surged forward, catching her lips with his. He took a chance and cupped her cheeks with his too-big, too-rough hands, and tilted her mouth so that he could kiss her properly. When his mouth opened, his tongue didn’t do any polite, cutesy little nudge at the seam of her lips. He wanted inside her, and if this was the only thing he’d get, then fine. He’d take it. 

Wheels probably wouldn’t have him arrested for kissing her. 

Probably. 

Marie made a sound at the touch, and Logan tilted her head, clutching her hair as his hand cupped the back of her head, moving her where he wanted her so that he could rip the most amount of pleasure out of her before he did stop this.  He sucked on her bottom lip, then traced the outside with his tongue before slotting their mouths together again. He licked into her mouth and over her teeth, wanting every part of her he could have. He pulled off to let her gasp in air and rumbled low in his chest at the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest. He could feel the hard points of her nipples and moved slightly, brushing against them. 

Her head fell back when he moved her so he could kiss down her neck, keeping her sodden sweater between her skin and his mouth. He couldn’t take it off of her because the thin shirt underneath left too much of her arms and shoulders bare.

Logan pulled away and waited until Marie met his narrowed gaze with her wide-eyed stare. He looked down at her body, then back up. She looked beautiful like this.  “You ready to stop?” 

Her eyebrows flew up to her forehead. “Are you fuckin’ crazy? Kiss me again!”  

Logan’s lips twitched. “Oh, the mouth on you.”  He did kiss her, drawing it out a little until she was chasing his mouth with hers. He moved so his low voice was directly in her ear. He knew what his voice did to women, and he used it on her without thinking twice. “I ain’t gonna fuck you.” At the word ‘fuck’ her body jerked on top of his, helplessly. Logan bared his teeth, feeling the Wolverine snarling under his skin. “You asked me to kiss you, and if that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you.” He waited while she nodded a little frantically. If they were in any other situation, he’d find it funny. 

He bit at her earlobe and stretched it a little in his teeth. Marie shuddered in his arms, and he could smell her again, smell how wet she was. His own cock was half-hard in his jeans.  “Put my hand where you want me to touch you.”  He waited while she bit her lip. Marie very tentatively brought one hand to her chest, so that his heavy hand cupped her breast. The other she pressed into her hip. “All right. If I do anything, anything that you don’t like, you will tell me immediately. This can be real fun for you sweetheart, but I won’t touch you if I can’t trust you.” 

She bent forward and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips. “Okay.” She grinned suddenly and kissed him back, doing her best to make it as filthy as he’d kissed her. Logan felt himself rumble again, and he stretched out a little in the chair. The peak of her nipple under the palm of his hand just begged for him to kiss it, but that could wait.  He used the hand on her hip to slide over her ass, pressing her center against his thick thigh. 

Oh fuck, she was so wet. From just kissing. Logan’s mouth watered and he had to take a second to remind himself that he could not fuck her, although this petting was probably tap dancing over that line. Maybe. Shit. Probably. 

Did he care enough to stop?

Marie made a sharp sound and Logan realized that while his thoughts spiraled, his thumb had absently started rubbing back and forth over her nipple, feeling it through the sweater. He brought his hand from her ass to pull up the garment so he could look at her. 

She wore a tank top and under that a bra. The tank top was thin, and he carefully lifted it up out of his way, baring her covered breasts to his hungry gaze. He didn’t miss the scars he’d left on her body, and for a second he hated himself, rage pooling in his gut. 

He bent to kiss them and pulled away when he felt her skin react. He looked up at her and moved his mouth back to her breasts, breathing his hot, humid breath over the stiff peaks. 

“Luuuuh-Logan.” 

He raised his eyebrows and she turned bright red but didn’t tell him to stop. He could see the curiosity on her face as well as the desire. He kept eye contact when he bent to lick at the slightly damp fabric of her bra. The pale yellow silk quickly turned sheer as he traced the hardened peak with the tip of his tongue. 

“Ohhh,” Marie gasped, shocked. 

Logan sucked on her, using the thin fabric as a barrier for his mouth, but still able to give her some pleasure with the strength of his sucks. With his other hand, he stroked her lower back, down over the bubble of her ass, and back up her back. 

He nipped at her, then switched breasts, giving the other the same treatment. When her hips thrust forward Logan moved back to her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip and nipping at it until she was kissing him back. Her hand tightened on his hair and he was about 90% sure it was an accident, but when she pulled a little to tilt his head, Logan felt himself get fully hard. His cock had hardened enough, lengthening so that the thick column of flesh hung down his thigh, the well-worn jeans pressing it to his leg. 

Logan had the bare presence of mind to angle her so that she was on his other thigh, before using it to press up against the core of her. He would love to feel her against his dick. He was desperate to feel her against his dick. 

But this wasn’t about him. 

Marie’s head fell back, kiss-swollen lips opening on a cry. 

Logan didn’t miss the way that every time the palm of his hand slid over her body she leaned into the touch. He petted her, sliding both hands down her arms, over her back, down to rub at her nipples over her T-shirt. He couldn’t keep his hand from cupping her center and he growled out loud at how wet she was through her leggings. 

Marie whimpered a little and stared at him with wide eyes. 

“Still good, sweetheart?” He fit his hand to her, so that the thick part of his palm near his wrist was over her clit, his fingers cupping her underneath. His hand felt too big, his fingers too thick. 

She nodded, eyes almost all pupil with want.

With his left hand, Logan carefully reached into the top of her leggings and pulled at the elastic of her panties. On one side, he slowly tugged down the waistband of her leggings so that her underwear stuck out over the top. He extended one hand and the snikt! of one claw extending made her jump. 

To Logan’s absolute shock, he could feel a flood of her wetness where he still cupped her. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh fuck off. It’s not like you’d ever hurt me.” Marie looked faintly embarrassed. “And.” Logan moved his hand and she gasped. “ Ohhhhh,” she moaned, clearly forgetting what she was going to say. But Logan could guess. 

Logan used his claw to cut off the top of the elastic on each hip so that he could pull her panties from her body, leaving her in just the damn leggings. He retracted the claw and tossed them behind him before arranging her where he wanted so that she could ride the heat of his thigh. He wanted to make sure she could feel it, could feel good enough to get off. He’d cut off the fucking leggings, but that would have left too much of her skin exposed. That would have made her uncomfortable, or nervous about hurting him, and he didn’t want that. 

“Kiss me again, Marie.” His voice was lower than his normal register and Marie’s eyelids drifted shut as she leaned forward. Logan watched as long as he could before he shut his own eyes. Her kiss was deceptively innocent. When her lips brushed his, she pressed against his thigh, tentatively moving her hips. 

Logan groaned. He knew he wasn’t supposed to find her inexperience as arousing as he did. He knew he wasn’t supposed to want to thrust his fingers inside that sweet heat or lift her to his mouth to lick and tease. 

But he did. 

Marie’s kiss changed when she caught a rhythm that worked for her, using the friction and his mouth for her own pleasure. Logan tilted his leg a little and placed his hands on her hips so that her clit got most of the pressure and Marie broke away from his mouth, resting her forehead on his shoulder, breathing heavily as her body shivered under his hands. 

It didn’t take long.  She was too responsive, too touch-starved for it to take long. When she came, she froze in place for a second, her pink mouth dropping open in shock as she rode him to her orgasm.  Logan watched her, his eyes narrowed as he burned the look of her into his head. 

When she was done he licked into her mouth again, kissing her as deeply as he wanted to be inside of her, he gentled the kiss, giving her a moment to catch her breath before he moved her again, pressing her still sensitive clit to his soaked jeans. He imagined her muscles fluttering around nothing, and wished, desperately wished, he could get any part of him inside of her. 

He made her come two more times before she broke away, too sensitive to ride his thigh anymore.  Her leggings were a mess, and Logan’s jeans on his one leg were drenched from her pleasure. He moved her off the wet spot as best he could, putting his blanket between them and she rested there a second until her heartrate slowed down, kissing his neck. The rain had stopped, and the night noises were peaceful again. 

One of her curious hands reached towards his cock, still trapped in his jeans, but he caught it, kissing her fingers. She wiggled her ass instead and Logan snorted a shaky laugh, standing up and leaving her to the blanket. 

“One sec.” He went inside and got her a bottle of water, and a washcloth. He found a pair of his sweats that were more or less clean and went back outside.  Marie stood up and clutched the chair as her legs wobbled. 

He held out the items he brought and opened his mouth to say something about changing inside when she dropped down to her knees. 

Logan felt his cock twitch at seeing her on her knees in front of him, and he gritted his teeth as he bent down to pick her up.  Before she could wince away from him, or get embarrassed, he kissed her. Feeling her body against his was the sweetest torture and Logan had to move his hips back so that he didn’t start humping her like some fuckin’ dog. 

“There is nothing. . . nothing . . . that I want more than to spend the night with you, Marie.” She stared at him, her pink, swollen mouth opening to argue. “And I know what we just did was. . . toeing the line. But I’m not gonna cross it. I can’t rush you, sweetheart. I won’t.” 

Marie took the water with shaking fingers and drained it, handing it back to him without saying anything.  She took the cloth and sweats and he had expected her to go inside, but instead, she just peeled off the leggings, kicking them to the side. Logan didn’t look away from her, and she didn’t try to hide her long, pale legs or the curly thatch of hair that still glistened with wetness.  Her cheeks turned a little red with a blush she couldn’t quite hide behind her hair when she cleaned the slick from herself. She did turn away slightly to step into the sweats, and Logan actually made himself take a step backward when he saw her in his clothes.  Logan made a sound like he’d been punched.  His cock tried valiantly to stretch towards what they both wanted. 

Instead, he folded the blanket and set it over the chair. He’d have to wash it and her leggings later. The panties were a lost cause. The little ice sculpture had long since melted.  He crossed back inside to put everything in the bag he would take to the mansion to wash, and by the time he came back out, she had her shoes on. 

“Thanks? I guess?” She tried a smile, but it was as wobbly as her legs had been, and Logan stepped up to hug her again, kissing her mouth lightly.  “Can’t say I’m sure what to do in this situation. I wish. . .” She looked at his dick, then at his mouth and Logan fought back a shiver. What she wished was pretty clear. 

“Your birthday is what. Five months? You think about what bein’ with me would be like. You think real hard because I don’t know how casual I could be. You’re awfully sweet for all my bullshit.” 

Marie shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t know many guys that would give me that,” she flopped her hand towards the rocking chair, “without askin’ for anything in return. I came here and was sad and upset, and now I’m. . .” She grinned. “I’m feelin’ pretty good, actually, sugar.” 

Logan managed not to grin back. He was afraid if he did it would be hopelessly smug. 

“Bye, Logan.” 

She walked up to him again and kissed his cheek and Logan raised his hand in farewell as he listened to her clomp through the woods, being too damn loud. As usual. 

He managed to wait until he couldn’t hear her anymore before he started to scrub his hands over his face. Logan caught the sweet, musky scent of her on his fingers and hand and before he could stop himself he’d shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking her come off of them. His other hand yanked out his cock and he curled one shoulder against the porch door, jerking himself off. Her taste bloomed heavily on his tongue as he used his own pre-come to slick his grip. It didn’t take long before he was coming with a low growl, shooting onto the porch floorboards with almost painful spurts of thick come.  

“Fuck.”

He could smell the intoxicating scent of the two of them together and Logan knew that the next five months were gonna be hell.