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Three of Cups	By : cathayshu Category: X-men Comics > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 1633 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
They end up in the living room and Wagner only needed to give Darkholme a look over his shoulder to have him moving in, moving close, reaching out despite himself.

How does he do that? Darkholme wonders. He retreats just enough to be enticing, he evades, he dodges like for a fight, and then he turns on the one pursuing, surging up like a wave to the shore, with an embrace full of laughter and mischievousness. It's beguiling, it's irresistible. Wagner's looking at him; they are nearly nose to nose.

“Some day, you'll need to tell me about this,” he runs a finger down the outer edge of Darkholme's facial tattoo.

Their tails twine together and just a twinge of shyness takes over Darkholme. The merciful thing is that Wagner knows. He knows the signs of fretting welling up inside, so he kisses Darkholme again, at the edge of his mouth again.

“Why do you do that?” Darkholme finally grasps something to ask.

“That is not for me,” Wagner whispers. “Not yet. It's important, I think it is very important, isn't it?”

Wagner's found an ear and he's tracing his tongue along the point, making Darkholme shiver and just about to say something when a low whistle interrupts him.

“I swear; I had a dream that started out exactly like this,” Logan's grin was unabashedly lewd as he closed the cabin door behind himself.

Wagner laughs and Darkholme blushes anew.

“Elf,” Logan drawls. “I thought you said hitting on your counterpart is perverse?”

“You should know by now that you shouldn't give me ideas and then not expect me to do anything about said ideas,” Wagner mock solemnly replied. “I'm a man of action, I'll have you know.”

It was silly enough a statement to cause Darkholme to lose his embarrassment at being caught unawares and roll his eyes. That makes Logan laugh.

“Never knew you for anything but,” Logan walks closer.

It's like a concerted dance between Wagner and Logan; one falls away and the other moves forward and Darkholme's caught dead center.

Logan inhales through his mouth, tasting the lust in the air, untangling which was which.

He's done his own thinking about Darkholme, about how he has a wholly different emotional landscape than Wagner. Darkholme's had to live a life of immediacies, of quick and final decisions, of risks for slim rewards. Whereas the love Logan shared with Wagner was the warm and long enduring love blooming inevitably from established friendship, Darkholme looked into his eyes and it was immediate conflagration. Darkholme could skillfully hide the outward signs of it, in fact, he automatically did. Was it from training or from his own strong sense of privacy, Logan couldn't be sure. But Logan smelled out the truth and tasted it in the air. The unspoken emotion was absolute with Darkholme; just about everything about him was. Cast aspersions on his mother and he'd relieve you of your extremities for the insult. Prove a danger to his world's Magneto and allies, and he'd hunt you down inexorably in the night. Logan liked his style. How could he not?

Anybody else would be afraid of inspiring such fervor and single-minded attention when they were with another. Logan didn't survive as long as he did by bowing down to fear. Logan took in the raw truth that he discovered and revealed it in full to Wagner because he would not lie by omission and isn't it just the luckiest thing; Wagner was intrigued. Sympathetic in a most fundamental way; he couldn't deny any part of himself from Logan, so surely it had to be just like that with Darkholme. Meeting Darkholme properly only confirmed the sameness despite the differences. They both were drawn inexorably to Logan and there was to be no ugly contesting over something so intrinsic and uncontrollable as Darkholme's pheromones going dusky and lush when Logan was near.

Darkholme shudders when Logan steps forward and slips his arms around his waist. He can feel Wagner's gaze on the both of them, is it really okay, it feels good and bad all at once and Logan's filling his senses; he's lost. Then, Logan kisses him. Darkholme's breath whooshes out of his nose and he's dissolving, unraveling, falling under. Wagner was right. He'd been waiting, waiting, waiting and it was all for this, for Logan. With that first kiss, Logan's appropriating him, asserting possessiveness and intent.

They part for a moment, Logan supporting Darkholme's stunned weight and Darkholme hazards a wary look at Wagner.

He's practically glowing from the act of witnessing. Perhaps if it were anybody else, there would be sick slick disgust and disappointment, begetting strife and recriminations. He's tasted the bitterness of thwarted love and knows the cut of disappointments. But this wasn't at all like that; Darkholme's joy was a clean and bright echo of his own. Variations on a theme.

Wagner laughs and tugs lightly at their arms, dancing towards the bedroom. Logan smiles and catches Darkholme's eye, tipping his chin towards the doorway and cocking an eyebrow.

“Hold on to your hat,” Logan murmurs.

“Don't have one, but, okay,” Darkholme's still reeling from the kiss.

Logan chuckles and they go. They get past the doorway, Logan kicks the door shut, and makes Darkholme gasp from kisses at his exposed neck. Wagner steps up close from behind and Darkholme feels that same friendly twining of their tails again before Wagner reaches out and caresses his hips. Darkholme leans back, hooking his arm around Wagner's neck and turns his head to kiss him, to know and complete the circle.

“Fuck, that's hot,” Logan's awed.

He's really, really good- no, excellent at kissing, Darkholme thought, as they prolonged it. You could feast on such kisses for days. He's just barely more clearheaded with Wagner, Logan's the one that makes his brain short out. Logan's making short work of his clothes and trailing his tongue over skin as he exposes it, sparking tremors. Wagner kisses harder and draws his hands upward, passing his fingers over Darkholme's nipples, pulling out helpless whimpers from him. Logan inhales through his mouth again just below Darkholme's navel and that was all the warning he got before Logan took his cock into his mouth. Darkholme breaks the kiss, his legs buckling and Wagner holds him up, watching Logan over his shoulder. The angle's right, the sight of Logan's lips and tongue working on blue cock completely familiar, but the sensation's not there, and the novel tease of it makes Wagner hiss, rocking his hardness against Darkholme's ass.

“I- I- Oh, it feels-” Darkholme pants, desperately clinging to Wagner's arms.

“Shh, come on, like that, that's right,” Wagner crooned back, smiling back at Logan when he looks up for a moment before taking strong grip on Darkholme's hips and swallowing.

Darkholme flies apart from that and Wagner continues to hold him up, holding him together through it. Logan sits back on his heels to watch Darkholme through the aftershocks, all smug and pleased at the disarray, before standing and closing in again, this time to kiss Wagner and pressing Darkholme between the two of them.

He's taken with them into bed and they dispense of their clothes with a thought. Logan remains kneeling on the bed while Darkholme goes lax on the cool surface of the sheets, still in the middle as Wagner also lays down. Logan looks at him and he's charmed by the modest posture Darkholme makes, a slight averting of his face and tucking in of the chin at the frankness of his stare, because Darkholme has never been completely comfortable just in his skin. Wagner has no such qualms any longer and he stretches out fully, before taking his cock into hand and casually stroking it. There's no urgency to the movement of his hand yet, there's only the slow building up of sensation.

“Going to save that for me?” Logan asked.

“I think,” Wagner's hips tense and arch and his grip tightens. “I want to have that pleasure that Kurt's had so many times before. I want to watch.”

“Sounds good,” Logan crawls forward, petting Darkholme's hip. “You game?”

Darkholme nods and Logan's kissing him again, covering him with the warm solidity of his body, pressing down on him, lacing their fingers together. Darkholme can't think, not when he's drinking his fill, rubbing up on Logan and feeling the delicious hardness of Logan's cock dragging on the velvet of his fur. The thought of it inside of him, fucking him, put him in a fever and he eagerly spreads his legs.

“You got no patience,” Logan observed.

“No,” Darkholme agrees, disentangling his fingers so he could reach down between, finally getting his hand on Logan's cock. “So give.”

Logan makes a huffing laugh and sits back astride Darkholme, the better for Darkholme to explore. If the look of it made him hunger in the pit of his stomach, the hot and heavy feel of it made him groan at the back of his throat. He doesn't resist the impulse to lean forward and slick his tongue over it, long and greedy. Logan makes a helpless, appealing look at Wagner even while he hitches his hips forward; see how he's making this impossible? (In the best way, of course.)

Wagner snickers, before going to assist Logan. Darkholme doesn't object to Wagner crawling over and taking hold of him and spreading his legs further apart, angling his hips up and exposing more of him. Darkholme makes a pleased whining when Wagner's lubed up tail-spade starts a sliding, easing tease at his entrance. Things got trickier when Darkholme's roving tail decided to imitate Wagner's and began tapping insistently at Wagner's ass. This makes Wagner squeak.

“Elf?” Logan couldn't see was was going on.

“Ambitious attempt at multitasking,” Wagner quipped, swatting at Darkholme's tail. “Naughty.”

Darkholme snorted, which just made Wagner shove his tail-spade in properly and start a swiveling, twisting thrusting in response. This makes Darkholme throw his head back, crying out, too intensely distracted to set his attention back on Logan. Logan doesn't mind; he knows how mindblanking that tail-spade is in action. Wagner scoots closer, hooking his chin over Logan's shoulder and they both watch Darkholme go out of his mind.

A few minutes pass before Logan makes a wordless rumbling sound and that's signal for Wagner to slip away and out, for Logan to move in his place and drive his way in. Darkholme bucks back on every downstroke, primed into a frenzy by Wagner's tail-spade, exulting at the jolts of pleasure that shock through as Logan gallops him hard and fast. He cries out a last time, sobbing indecently, clinging on to Logan as Logan's movements went brisk and abrupt, following him over the cliff.

Logan can't stay on top of him for very long and he rolls gently off after another deep kiss. Darkholme sighs, stretches and feels the beginning of soreness and the momentous meaning of it makes him smile.

“Well, hello,” Logan murmurs and Darkholme turns his head to see Wagner draping himself over Logan.

“Watching is good,” Wagner kisses Logan. “Magnificent.”

“Keep the compliments coming,” Logan grins.

“You're quite the lover. Such that,” Wagner's hips start rocking against him. “you can easily go more rounds.”

“Do I gotta?” Logan's voice was pure tease.

“I'll be generous and fuck you so you don't need to move,” Wagner grinned, nipping him on the shoulder.

“Thanks. I really appreciate your generosity. Don't let anybody tell you otherwise,” Logan deadpanned, his voice rich with insolence and sarcasm.

Darkholme didn't understand the point of that banter until Wagner flipped Logan over (not that he was resisting at all) and landed a solid whipcrack with his tail on Logan's ass. Logan panted and smiled, buttocks tightening and relaxing involuntarily, eyes shutting with bliss as Wagner aimed strike after strike on him. Darkholme bit his lip; Logan bearing it when he didn't acquiesce to anybody else dealing him pain without bringing his claws out was causing a stirring inside. In the meantime, Wagner was opening Logan up and preparing him with his fingers.

“You're really going to like this,” Wagner said conversationally to Darkholme. “It's just marvelous feeling when you're in him and-”

He inserts a lubed finger all the way in and lands another stinging blow with his tail, causing Logan's ass to clench hard. He demonstrates the effect a few more times before Logan's growling, impatient for fucking instead of the toying. Wagner doesn't play around for longer; he mounts Logan and Logan moans in gratitude. Just to suit himself, Wagner lets fly with another series of whipcracks on Logan's buttocks and his teeth flash white in the darkness, savoring the clutch of Logan's ass with every strike. Logan makes more hungry, pleading noises, rising up on his elbows and knees.

“Oh, all right, Liebchen, as you wish,” Wagner licks at the back of Logan's neck before slapping his hips rapidly against him. Logan groans and lets voice to his pleasure; rough, rasping profanity and pleading more, more, yes, like that- fuck- shit-

Darkholme edged closer, bit by bit, fascinated. He was drawn most strongly by the sight of Logan's hard cock, all flushed red and untouched, making futile twitches of pleasure in the air. The rest of Logan's body was immobile, that tough solidity perfect for receiving Wagner's scratching, licking, biting efforts. There was just enough space...

Darkholme slid underneath on his back, taking hold of Logan and stroking, making him howl and curse louder before licking and pressing at it with his tongue once more, not distracted this time and able to at least get head of it into his mouth, just a little past his fangs, so that he could tongue it as he sucked. It's lovely, lovely and the sounds, the sight of Logan's abs shivering above him served as ample encouragement.

This, Logan thought, was far and away so much better than the dream. Whatever imagination he had just didn't compare to this; being pounded out roughly while having his body ratcheting up with adrenaline from the pain, and being sucked on by a cockthirsty mouth. Moans flowed out of him without reserve. There, there, and he snaps his hips back once, emptying himself mindlessly. Darkholme makes a hiss, not at all used to the taste of it, turning his head aside; Logan makes marks on the sheets. Wagner's movements become frenetic for a few more thrusts before coming, leaning heavily on Logan with a sated laugh after.

Darkholme moves out of the way so that Logan can lay down, away from the wet spot. His expression is pensive as he licks his lips, trying to figure out if he actually minds the taste. He decides that he might not like it, precisely, but getting Logan to that point was definitely worth it. Wagner pulls out and kneads Logan's shoulders, easing the hurts from his scratching. Logan was too shagged out to think, falling too fast asleep to be concerned about Kurt and Kurt putting their heads together over him, whispering in German.

When Logan woke, there was only one furry body sprawled on him, just one pair of yellow glowing eyes looking at him.

“Elf?”

The eyes blinked.

“He's not here right now,” Darkholme softly replied. “You always mean him when you say that, don't you?”

Logan rubbed at his eyes and willed for some more ambient light in the room. Just enough to see the red tattoo.

“Yeah, I suppose I do,” Logan replied.

Darkholme didn't say anything, just putting his head down on a pillow and clutching at Logan tighter, including the coil of his tail around Logan's knee.

“Hey,” Logan murmured. “It'll come to me what I get to call you. Just for you. I'll get your approval for it first, of course.”

“Now why would you need to do that?”

“Just because I can survive a stabbing doesn't mean I want to get stabbed in the first place,” Logan wryly replied. “If you didn't like it, say.”

“I'm not so ill tempered as that,” Darkholme scoffed.

“Are you? Because I get the feeling that I'll be short a couple of organs for a few minutes if I called you... Oh, I don't know... Blueberry Muffin?”

“...You wouldn't dare,” Darkholme hissed back, hackles already rising.

“Uh huh,” Logan grinned. “See, I knew that much about you. So I'm taking precautions.”

“See that you do,” Darkholme replied, trying not to remain peeved. He was sure that he was failing rather spectacularly on that matter.

Logan didn't mind Darkholme's sudden pique at all, petting him to soothe him. It worked; Darkholme sighs and his eyes close.

“He's taking a bath right now,” Darkholme informed Logan. “I suppose you'd like to join him.”

“Sure, I'd like to. But that's not happening.”

Logan shrugged at Darkholme's questioning look.

“I got what you could say are 'water displacement issues'. So I'm a showering kind of guy. Can't be helped.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“I see.”

“Uh huh.”

Logan makes an amused grunt, catching Darkholme's gaze. Logan isn't at all a coquettish gallant the way Wagner is. What he does have is a raw sexual readiness in his expression that makes Darkholme fall on him, desperately kissing him. Logan's pleased rumble thrums through Darkholme's body and they tussle, Logan capturing him on his back, testing the strength of his limbs. Darkholme makes a guttural noise and his whole body flexes, resisting quite temptingly, arching. Logan smiles at how Darkholme looks, like an offering, and latches onto a nipple. Darkholme whines and pants, tail lashing. His eyes widen in disbelief when Logan grabs him at the base of his tail and simply hauls his hindquarters up, splaying him open on Logan's lap. He doesn't get a chance to express disapproval; Logan makes another delighted grunt before sucking his cock into his mouth again, this time also petting and playing with his opening. Darkholme cries out, which just makes Logan's touches and licking faster, more thorough.

“Oh- You-!” Darkholme wails, unable to say more before all of that pleasure overtakes him and he convulses.

“Still with me?” Logan asks, moving downward and now licking at Darkholme's ass.

“Yes, yes, come on already, yes-”

Logan's pace this time is easier, more sedate, rolling his hips and Darkholme sighs from it, entranced. Logan's muttering obscenities all the while, making Darkholme blush with mentions of how good he tasted, how Logan could just drink up what he could give everyday if he'd let him.

“You- Ah! You don't mean- You can't-”

“Fucking love your jizz, you're so fucking hot- Shit- Damnit- FUCK-”

And Darkholme's eyes clench shut, holding onto Logan as he yells out in bliss.

Logan doesn't let go after, nuzzling him, smelling him, licking and running his fingers over his fur. Darkholme likes the attention, though still a little hesitant about it, completely unused to positive scrutiny.

“You were game for Kurt watching.”

“Yes,” Darkholme replies simply.

“And touching. Kissing.”

“Yes.”

“Proper fucking?” Logan's voice lowers.

“Mmm,” Darkholme's expression doesn't immediately turn into pissed off, which is a good sign. “It's still a little... strange. Yes, it's still strange. I'm not sure. Maybe. If I think of it like a very unique form of masturbating. Perhaps.”

“Sounds good. Perhaps is good.”

Darkholme laughs.

“I get the feeling he is not at all ambivalent?”

“Nope.”

“Now why is that?” Darkholme muses. “He's said that it's the obverse to Mom being the same person despite different bodies. Same bodies, different persons. But I think there's more to it than that.”

“...Kurt's got more flex when it comes to relationships. Started early.”

“Explain.”

“...Uh. He fell in love with his... foster sister. First love. Ever.”

“He did what?” Darkholme's voice rose hysterically.

“The lady that raised him had kids of her own and he fell for the girl,” Logan's voice was matter of fact. “I don't know the whole story, you know. But I have met her. And she ain't real sisterly with her ways towards him.”

Darkholme didn't say anything. His tail was cutting agitated shapes in the air, however.

“You're weirded out. Shit, I shouldn't have said,” Logan was chagrined.

“No, no, it's fine. Knowing is not an issue,” Darkholme replied. “So she didn't treat him in a brotherly way.”

Darkholme drummed his fingers, pondering.

“It would not be too out of the question to think that the woman in the circus did not treat him in too motherly a way, either,” he concluded. “No matter the raising. She couldn't have seen him as a a true son in her heart. Her children must have followed suit. It must be that way. That's what I think. It's not like they were blood related anyway, so there's that.”

“There's that,” Logan echoed.

There was silence, with Darkholme still thinking over the matter and Logan continued petting.

“That's all,” Darkholme shrugged. “As for what matters, he loves you, you love him, and he's more generous than he ought to be about me. If the circumstance happens, we might fuck. Probably. I am fine with that.”

Logan hadn't expected Darkholme to boil it down to such essentials and then make such a firm stand on the issue. He should, though. Darkholme loathed indecision.

“Have we covered all the potential difficulties that might arise from whatever this is between ourselves?” Darkholme asked. “I like it when I know that all angles have been covered.”

“Just had a thought,” Logan’s mouth quirked. “Watch out.”

“For what?”

“One of these days, he’s going to have you tied up, tied down, and he’s going to have his way with you. Just a little tip.”

Darkholme snorted.

“I could get out of anything.”

“You’d think. But here, it comes down to how much he wants you held still and how much you want to get out. And once he has you, that’s it. He’s just stronger here.”

“Is that… because he’s dead?”

Logan shrugged.

“Maybe. Besides turning you on so much that you can’t think straight beforehand, I reckon it’s because he’s tapping into his magic. Makes things go his way.”

“Magic? He knows magic?”

The way Darkholme perked up at the idea of that avenue of power being available to Wagner and therefore himself was faintly unsettling.

“He’s not an adept, if that’s what you are looking for. There’s that potential that he’s never bothered to dig deeper into when he was alive. There are other counterparts that we know for sure have gone deep in that way.”

“Were they good at it?”

“One was good enough to claim Limbo as his territory. How’s ruler of one level of the Underworld and all the demons in it sound to you?”

“Formidable. But. That counterpart, he’s not… well, is he?”

“Nobody with the mind and chops to take over any underworld is right in the head,” Logan nodded.

“I like being sane. And I suppose seeing as I don’t have any business with real demons, I don’t see why I should start at all.”

“Good call. Because you know if you went full evil on us, we’re just going to have to kill you.”

“Of course,” Darkholme smiled. “So back on the subject of Kurt’s propensity with ropes. That happen often?”

Logan made a pleased grunt at how Darkholme was undulating against him while asking that question. Somebody was going to have to start a kink chart for them at the rate they were going.

“He manages to surprise me with it, sometimes. I think that’s the point.”

“So you’ve pretty much ruined the fun by warning me. Sabotage is supposed to my game. Not yours.”

“Oh, well,” Logan shrugged. “Just don’t tell him. He’ll come after me for it.”

Darkholme laughed and climbed on top of him, kissing him.

“Then in the spirit of disclosure,” Darkholme paused, nipping at Logan’s bottom lip. “I ought to tell you.”

“What?”

“Kurt’s talked to me first,” he purred.

Logan had only time for his eyes to widen before ropes manifested with abrupt finality at his wrists, pulling taut, forcing his arms away from from his sides. He sputtered, before shuddering from a slow deliberate scratch that Darkholme made down his side.

“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” Logan ruefully asked.

“You know you love it,” Wagner appeared over Darkholme’s shoulder, grinning. “It’s just as I said, right? He looks marvelous like this.”

“Yes,” Darkholme nodded, reaching out to trace a rope with a finger. “I hadn’t thought it would be.”

“He'll look much better when he suffers a good suffering,” Wagner manifests another pair of ropes for Logan's ankles, making him open his legs.

Logan makes a put upon grumbling noise.

“It's true, you know,” Wagner kisses Logan. “You're so delicious when under a craving. Look at his cock, look at how much he's already wanting us and we won't give it to him yet, will we?”

“Well...” Darkholme licks his lips at the sight of Logan's erection. “I can't make any promises...”

“We won't,” Wagner's tone was decidedly final. “It's like giving up for Lent; you have to really want it and then you can't have it.”

“That sounds awful,” Darkholme raised an eyebrow.

“I know, it is, isn't it?” Wagner grins.

It was now, unlike any other time before, that Darkhome realized that Wagner really was a son of Mystique. There could be no other source for that gleeful sadism.

Darkholme made a dubious sound, which was interrupted by Wagner's tail coiling around one of his wrists and pulling his hand forward so that his open palm was placed on Wagner's cock. Wagner didn't say a word, just rocking up a bit and his fingers curled around that offered cock automatically. Wagner sighs and very obviously glances towards Logan. Darkholme swallows and turns his head and he sees Logan not straining against the ropes, exactly, but fighting to get into better viewing position, completely overtaken with prurient interest. Well. That's new. Darkholme gives Wagner a slow, lingering stroke and Wagner's happy wriggle in response makes Logan bite back a moan.

That was all he needed to see and hear before going closer, reaching out for Wagner and initiating a kiss. Wagner's tail uncoils from Darkholme's wrist and they eventually half crawl, half walk on their knees to the open spot next to Logan on the bed. Darkholme's never made out for the sake of making out before. But he can definitely see now why Wagner can while away the time like this, pulling soft sensations from each pass of the lips and tongue and sharing casual, slow touches on each other's hardnesses. He's not restless from want yet, it's just good to feel. They rub up on each other and it's a slow, sleepy swaying.

A barely suppressed starving noise rumbled out of Logan's throat and the both of them turn to look at him.

“Killing me, here,” Logan mutters, shifting.

“It's going to get worse,” Wagner cheerfully replied. “Much, much, much worse.”

Darkholme just nods. He's not sure exactly how to go about it, but he does trust that Wagner has all the rules and allowable moves in this depraved game well planned.

Wagner's not stroking his dick properly anymore. Darkholme's hips shift, wanting more contact; Wagner's just using the tips of his fingers now, tracing him, making a cryptic smile in response to Darkholme's tail looping questions in the air.

“Stay hard for him. Stay hard for me,” Wagner softly commanded, before kissing him again, distracting him.

He encircles both Darkholme's shaft and scrotum with his thumb and fingers for a moment and when he lets go, Darkholme hisses. Wagner manifested a cockring there and it fits, it holds, and now he's entirely too aware of every movement he makes, the constriction stoppering and magnifying his want.

Wagner makes a delighted, wicked laugh at Darkholme's response and dances away on the bed on all fours, flexing and arching his tail; making a show of his already lubed up tail-spade sliding into his opening. Darkholme tenses, unsure for just a moment but the look Wagner's giving him over his shoulder, the teasing shimmy of his hips, the sight of that tail-spade pumping in and out was incendiary.

Logan rasps out a curse and Darkholme's fangs show before Darkholme leaps for him, tackling him. Wagner rolls with it, going on his stomach, baring his fangs back in anticipation, and the movement of his tail snapping hard out of the way, high and tight against his lower back, makes Darkholme tremble and grip him hard on his hips before diving in. Logan's panting, unable to stop himself from humping the air as he watches them, watches how Wagner's greedily taking all that Darkholme's giving him, how Darkholme's throttled by that cockring and it just makes him go harder, faster, bearing down on Wagner.

Darkholme wouldn't have said being pissed off is a good state of mind; he knows all about it. He's frustrated by the cockring and at the same time, just seeing how he's got Wagner yowling under him and Logan working himself into a lather and unable to relieve himself of it was making it all good. It's perverse. It's torturous. It's fucking glorious.

The only stop in the action comes from Wagner; the press of the mattress isn't good enough for him and he solves that issue by coiling his tail abruptly around Darkholme's neck and yanking him hard backwards off of him. Darkholme snarls as his airflow gets cut off and Wagner's eyes narrow knowingly before bindings manifest around Darkholme, bringing his wrists to his ankles. Darkholme quakes and it's a delicious fury, barely reined in by Wagner's tail around his throat.

“You don't struggle too much even though you're new to this. Fast learner. I like that. I like that very much,” Wagner crooned. “Doesn't that please you also, Logan?”

“Fuck, yeah, you know it,” Logan whispers. “Fuck.”

“Oh, Logan, you know you don't get to issue commands when you're tied up,” Kurt gently chides.

He leans forward and nuzzles Darkholme's cheek, smiling.

“But I also know Kurt's not as patient as I am. So for his sake-”

Wagner kisses Darkholme and he pushes Darkholme backward, keeping his tail coiled around Darkholme's neck, but mercifully loosening it enough for Darkholme to gasp for breath and he's a straining figure on the bed, his still hard cock in the air. Wagner's on him then, sinking down and taking him in. Wagner takes his dick in hand makes a another shimmy. Darkholme blurts out a nonsense noise before bucking hard. Wagner's thighs quiver as he matches that pace, seeking oblivion. Wagner doesn't curse while fucking. He doesn't have to. His whole body seemed charged with obscenities.

The little room's air grows dense with pants and moans. Logan's nostrils flare as he inhales the bloom of pheromones rising from Kurt and Kurt.

Yes, yes, Darkholme said mutely with his whole body, his hips lunging, his rising pleasure hammering fiercely against the restraint of that cockring. He didn't think that he could bear it. It was intolerable, really, just maddening, but he had to bear it, he must, and he sobbed in frustration, which made Wagner smile beatifically before he came, making Darkholme cry out from the luscious feeling of his body tightening from that final wave of pleasure.

Wagner falls away from Darkholme, laying prone on his back, his body wet and feverish. He swallows, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, to savor the devastation he's wrought on Logan and Darkholme. They were both perfectly lovely in their now uncontrolled straining against their bindings, their organs unflagging and it showed on their faces that they were completely subsumed to their arousal.

Logan licks his lips as Wagner languidly rises and crawls over to him.

“He's a very good fuck,” Wagner says, reaching out to pinch one of Logan's nipples. “Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” Logan replies, after flinching from the pinch. “Yep.”

Darkholme makes a whine in response, which is cut short by Wagner's tail-spade clasping over his mouth.

“That question was not for you,” Wagner wags his finger at Darkholme. “Naughty.”

Darkholme makes do with a fervent lashing of his tail, but doesn't make any more noise. Wagner returns his attention on Logan and grins.

“So you want him?” Wagner purrs. “Beg.”

Logan makes an obstinate grunt in response, which just makes Wagner casually reach out and slap his cock.

“FUCK!”

Darkholme's eyes widen. It's amazing; Logan's erection pulses from the contact, going harder if that was possible.

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” Wagner sighs.

Logan makes more inarticulate growling noises, hips humping the air some more before he mutters.

“Enunciate, Logan,” Wagner slaps him again.

“GODDAMNIT!” Logan yells. “PLEASE! Please, fuck, I want him, please, please, want that dick up my ass- please- please-”

Wagner smiles again before his tail uncoils completely from Darkholme and begins slowly, painstakingly lubing Logan up. Logan keeps on begging, because Wagner hasn't said he can stop yet and he knows very well how exactingly devious he can be while playing the game.

“Shh,” Wagner finally whispers, moving out of the way.

He lays down alongside Logan, reaching out to take one of Logan's hands in his own. And he snaps the fingers of his free hand.

Darkholme's bindings disappear all at once and he doesn't waste any time. Logan hollers as Darkholme rams home and doesn't stop the whole while, and Darkholme makes a counterpoint with his own cursing as he dug his cock in deep. Logan's ass was being very well used, Wagner could see that well enough. His cock was also completely unattended. He watched for longer, waiting until Logan's was further gone with desperation before lazily reaching over with his tail-spade and clasping him, stroking him. Logan jolted hard, nearly throwing Darkholme off as he came. Darkholme hissed and bit down on Logan's shoulder, making Logan yell one last time, before following him.

Logan's bindings also dissipate and he groans as he's freed. He wipes some sweat from his eyes. Darkholme's an insensate, inert mass on him. Wagner makes a happy purring, kissing Logan, snuggling closer.

“...Well, hot damn,” Logan murmurs.

Darkholme's tail makes a single agreeing twitch in the air before dropping limp.

A few more seconds of content silence follow.

“...Anybody else feeling hungry?” Logan mutters.

Darkholme makes a succinct curse in German while Wagner makes a long suffering sigh.

“Okay, okay,” Logan holds his hands up in surrender. “Afterglow. Gotcha.”

It's finally really blissfully quiet in that cabin.

Well.

Logan's stomach does make some interesting noises, but nobody takes any notice.
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Three of Cups