MUTATING – PART 2

He looks at me with the same exasperated pity you see in a
teacher's eye when her pet has done something horribly wrong.
"You" he states gently "are out of your fucking mind. What are you
blathering on about, now?"
Yes, nice, and how can I make him understand what's eating
me?
"Loge, love…"
Ha! *Now* he growls, too late, amour.
"*Don't* growl at me, I'm serious." I say, not as strongly as I
would like, but firmly enough…
You want to know how we – how to say it? I'm using dashes as
he does but they don't inspire me to clarity.
`Kay. No dashes, no ramblings. It's a deal.
Not how we met, that wasn't important, how we *met* body to
body and heart to heart.

It was one evening, sky gone all indigo-black and I had come
back to the mansion after a fuck, to tell the truth.
It wasn't a very good fuck.
For some reason I wasn't as good with the ladies as before.
I felt guilty and embarrassed and… `kay, let's face it, impotent. It
was getting harder and harder, *not* to get it up, but to work up
an interest in the proceedings. So it wasn't a very good fuck. In
fact I felt horrible, as if my body wasn't exactly mine anymore, just
a machine for pleasure, somebody else's pleasure, that is,
because I scarcely got any.
I went back to what I called home humiliated and sad and in no
mood for banter and general Gambitish acting. I wanted to lock
myself in the boathouse and *think*.
But when I arrived, I found them all out in the park tense and
battle-ready like a posse.
"What's happened?" I asked, not really alarmed, but curious,
never saw `em like this before except during a fight.
"Wolverine's gone feral." Poor Rogue answered me distractedly.
"What?"
"My dear young man..." Wouldn't you know it would be Henri, the
great medical sage of the team to put his gross blue finger in? I
couldn't stand his know-it-all voice, I couldn't stand his slow
ponderous utterances, so I cut him short.
"What the krot's happened?" I repeated quite briskly.
"One nightmare too many, we fear." Thanks to any passing god
of thieves Jean is quick and to the point.
"He has reverted to the animal side of his personality" she
explains "and now we have the unpleasant task of sedating him
and restraining him until it is over."
"What?" I knew I sounded like a parrot imitating an idiot, but I
was surprised out of my skin.
"What part of that don't you understand, cockroach eyes?"
`Oh, goody,' I thought `my pet hate is here too, now at least I can
let out steam with someone.'
"The part where you hunt and shoot down a friend,
Wa-wa-wanker." I said sternly.
Inside me a spark was dancing. So I wasn't the only one they
teamed up against, was I? In that exact moment I decided they
would hunt and sedate the Wolverine over my dead body.
"Now stand back and let me see what I can do." I said, all
efficiency.
They didn't move, wouldn't you just know it? Instead they looked
at me like I was *another* madman in their midst.
"What do you think you can do?" Oooo, Scotty had his hackles up
at having the con snatched, so to speak, out of his grubby lil'
hands.
"For one thing I can avoid treating a mate like a brainless enemy.
For another I will not alarm him. For a third I will not forget that it
is Logan that is hurting and that Logan is a rational human
being. For a fourth…"
"You'll get yourself ripped to ribbons and good riddance,
Peacock!"
Okay, I had pissed off the Iceman as well. Nice. All of them were
focused at me giving the Wolverine a chance to slink away and
hide somewhere.
"Look what you've done!" Our fearless leader loudly accused me,
sounding more like a schoolboy than a grown powerful man.
"Stormy" I commanded, ignoring Scott and her outraged gasp, I
wanted to get her attention and using the hated nickname was a
sure way to do it.
"Now you fly high and silent and pinpoint him for me."
She thought about it, but I knew that she really liked the
Wolverine and was eager for the chance to spare him the
search-and-destroy. She rose gently wafting on warm currents of
her own making and I turned to the rest of the posse.
"Stay back and keep your mouths shut." I brutally ordered.
`Krot, I shall have to blast them away!' I got out two packs of
cards, but didn't want to use them for fear the explosions would
further upset Wolvie.
Stormy, bless her weather-controlling heart, had a stroke of
genius and created a tornado rolling the X-posse like ninepins
and keeping my feral teammate and me in its still centre.
I flicked a salute at her and advanced cautiously.
After a while I saw him. He was dishevelled, dribbling spittle,
claws out and growling incessantly. He really looked like one of
these dogs that would kill you just to enliven a boring afternoon.
He also looked male, dangerous, exciting and scared to death.
I had to find a way to contact him. I sent a tendril of charm and I
felt a bit of his mind down the link. It was a roaring swirling
blood-red blood-dripping maelstrom of pain so strong I nearly
fell.
Now I'm accustomed to pain, I know all but all about pain and
what it does to you, I'm an expert so I knew at once that no
amount of charm would ever work against that monstrous agony.
I had to quieten the Wolverine before I could try and reach Logan.
Yes, easy to say, but how?
Then I had *my* stroke of genius. I suddenly remembered an old
Mel Gibson film in which he tamed a ferocious rottweiler going
doggy-dog, whining and feeding it.
`Oh, fuck! What have I got to lose? My nose? My life? I too can kill
just to relieve boredom, or throw the dice staking my life. I said
over my dead body and I meant it.'
So I got slowly on all fours and bent as low as I could to keep my
head lower than his.
My back screamed at me, yes, but it's not his fault he's short and
was squatting.
I turned my head sideways and my neck added its loud
protestations to those of my back.
But his growl faded and he looked at me warily.
I prostrated myself even further and thought longingly of a
inferno-hot sauna and massages, but I couldn't go back now.
Turning my head once more, I essayed a feeble whine.
He growled! Hard and deep and not a bit reassuringly. Wrong
whine apparently.
I tried another higher pitched whine.
His growl faded once more.
Magnificent! I am a light baritone not a fucking falsetto singer.
Oh, krot, my throat was rebelling too. I was starting to feel as if
my whole body was mutinying and I would be left alone and
bodiless in the high seas.
I whined as shrilly as I could and was rewarded by another
silence. The Wolverine stared intently at me and his ice-blue
eyes were at last not so unfriendly anymore.
I kept whining and abasing myself inching nearer and nearer.
He stood still, not yet wholly reassured, but at least he was not
growling anymore.
As slowly and inconspicuously as I could I lowered my right
shoulder and put my hand in my pocket to see if I had any
chocolate left from my afternoon snack.
None, only a measly chewy candy that must have remained
undetected for fuck knows how long. It was small, too, and for
the first time I had some doubts about the brilliancy of my
actions. To keep that tiny thing in my mouth and offer it to him
was downright lunacy, but the Gibson plan had worked so well
until then I couldn't give it up.
`Remy, you demented birdbrain, you started this, now you finish
it, poor Stormy can't keep that tornado of hers up all night.'
`Right.'
I was not exactly afraid, which was a good thing because he
hadn't smelled any fear off me and that was keeping him quiet
as I knew very well. I was seriously questioning *my* sanity, yes,
but I couldn't be scared of him for some reason. I was just timid
and that worked very well too.
So I put the candy in my mouth gripping it with my lips and letting
it protrude as far as it would go and inched even nearer.
My whines had become perforce a kind of muffled wail and my
throat was very very grateful for this.
The Wolverine inched nearer me. Victory!
I twisted my head down looking up towards his toothy mouth and
he thoroughly sniffed the candy and me.
He tilted his head and gave throat to a kind of questioning low
growl.
I kept industriously wailing and butting gently the air towards his
nose.
He chomped on the candy and I got the shock of my life.
His lips on mine, his breathing in my nose, his eyes locked in
mine he was electric, his presence coursed through me like a
roaring river and nothing in the universe would have made me
break contact.
That strange kiss-not-kiss lasted forever for me, even though I
knew it couldn't have been more that a few seconds, and in that
moment I knew exactly what I wanted in life.
I wanted this man to be happy and strong and free, I wanted him
to be the happiest and strongest and most free person in the
universe, I wanted him never again to know pain or fear or
discomfort. If he wanted to be feral, fine with me, as long as
there was no pain. I wanted him to be whole, to unite his divided
soul into something greater than the sum of the parts, to realise
all his potential and *be* finally all he was and could be.
To make it short and sweet, I fell in love with him. In that moment
I knew I loved him beyond sanity, beyond decency, beyond fear
and death.
And the strangest thing was that I loved him purely with no
thoughts of sex, I did not lust after his masculinity and strength,
not in that moment of revelation. I knew that would come after,
but only if lust was fired in him too, only if, when he was himself
once more, he could feel lust for me.
The Wolverine ate the candy and whined at me. I realised he
was hungry and that he had calmed down enough for me to try
and speak to him.
"Logan" I said hoarsely, paying for all that whining and wailing,
"Logan, would you like to eat now?"
I suppose all that explosion of love I felt had affected him in
some way or that my voice is more seductive when hoarse
because he butted my shoulder and whined once more.
"Shall we go and eat something, Logan?"
Butt-whine.
I uncoiled slowly, not that I had any options because my body
was on fire, but managed to do it without startling him and
started to limp towards the boathouse.
No way would I bring him to the medlab!
Stormy had seen it all and was shouting at the posse something
that I couldn't hear above the roaring wind. Whatever it was must
have worked because her hand-made tornado slowed down and
disappeared.
We were quite alone, no meddling busybodies in sight and that
was how I wanted it.
I had food at the boathouse, nothing he would normally like very
much, but he was so hungry that I knew he would gulp down
anything I gave him.
Well, I fed him and made him a kind of bedding with blankets
and pillows beside the bed. I knew if he wanted to climb up, he
would do it.
I am not very good at animals, but he was not a real animal, just
a confused mind nobody had taken the trouble to help.
I lied on the bed and watched him sleep.
Tenderness engulfed me like a tide. My eyes stung, and why
not? I had never in my short, but extremely eventful, life felt
anything like that. I hoped this state of grace would last, not for
my sake but for his sake. I hoped I was grown up enough not to
let him see what I felt because I knew that when he was back to
himself he would be either grateful or mightily pissed off and I
didn't want any of his reactions to my quote good deed unquote
to colour his feelings for me. If he wanted to be friendly, fine, I
would treasure his friendship, if he wanted to be left alone, fine, I
would watch over him from afar. If he wanted…
I made myself stop that particular trend of thought. If it happened
it happened. I was glad I hadn't been able to use my charm, if it
happened I would know it came from his heart and not from my
desire.
My cock didn't even react all night.
The morning after was another pair of shoes.
He woke up, yawned, farted, scratched and looked at me.
I gave him a fatuous smile.
I still blush when I think of how very fatuous it was, but I couldn't
help it, all his morning activities had caused another swell of
love and tenderness.
"Good morning" I murmured… yes, fatuously.
"Mrrrgrrrnggg?" he growled softly.
`Mmmm, nice. Wants to be human, then?'
"Yes, Logan, it's morning. Good morning. Do you want
breakfast?"
He scratched pensively and wagged his butt a little.
"I take it is a yes, non?" I grinned and he showed me a lot of
teeth, then he opened his mouth a bit and tongued the air.
I refrained from saying the `Nice Logan' that was on the tip of my
tongue and got up.
He butted my legs and made me fall down.
He sniffed me and whined a bit. He was so funny I laughed and
laughed and the concerned look in his eyes was replaced by an
oddly dancing light.
Suddenly he was laughing with me, humanly laughing and rolled
over me.
"Oooof!" I oofed as his full weight hit my diaphragm and he
laughed even louder.
"Welcome back, Logan." I managed to gasp, my voice strangled
and amused at the same time.
Logan looked at me, at last himself, and stopped laughing.
"How the fuck did you do it, Gumbo?" he asked, awed.
"Get the krot off me…" I squeezed out.
He rolled off me laughing again.
"You alright?" he hiccupped.
"Weh, you weigh a ton."
"Nah, your bones are matchsticks and you have no muscles!"
I smile fondly at him.
"Hungry?" I ask.
"Yea, I went feral, didn't I?"
"Weh. One nightmare too many, Jean said."
"She would. How the fuck did you do it?"
I explained the Gibson plan to him and had the pleasure to see
him laugh again hard and long and roll on the floor because I
jumped up and away just in time.
That was a mistake, my back seized up and I grunted.
He was up and near me in a second.
"What?"
"Nothing, my back hurts a little. I need a sauna bath. But first you
have to eat, you look half starved."
"Wrong, Gumbo, first I'll fix your back."
He did and we had breakfast together. After breakfast we
washed dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, then we made the
bed.
Then we sat on the bed and he kissed me and I kissed him and
we made love, not simple sex but love, discovering each other's
bodies and minds slowly and passionately and hotly and brutally
and gently as each was gripped by this or that fancy, this or that
emotion.
We spent the day in bed, getting up only to piss.
The day after we told each other that we loved each other, and
that was that, we knew already, but saying it made it real and
true.

You see now? It was magic, it was the greatest undeserved
piece of luck I'd ever had and probably will ever have in my life.
From not speaking at all to being together as if we had spent our
entire lives together.
I had *not* used my charm, not even involuntarily. When I felt his
roaring pain I had pulled it in and erected my strongest shields.
Which brings us back to my problem in the bathroom.
But that is another tale.
TBC