Adult-FanFiction.org : Marvel 'Verse

The Familiar in a Stranger's Face	By : cathayshu Category: X-men Comics > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1558 -:- 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
- 1-The Familiar in a Stranger's Face
- 1
The Age of Apocalypse was turning out to be one shock after another. You'd think Logan would be used to shocks by now. How many friends, allies, and enemies have died and “gotten better” during his time as an X-Man? But this was different. He didn't get a chance to breathe, to process.

He sure as shit wasn't going to able to do that with Deadpool's nonstop chatter and Creed's very presence aggravating him beyond reason.

Logan walked. Paced, actually, down the corridors of Atlantis. His mind was buzzing and it helped keep it to a dull roar when he moved.

*bamf *

“Elf-”

“My NAME is Kurt! If you must call me anything besides Nightcrawler at all, stick with that!”

Logan had to pause while this Nightcrawler glared at him and his tail was telegraphing an almost eager readiness to come to blows over the issue.

“My mistake,” Logan held his hands up, placating. “Habit. Won't happen again.”

His easy apology seemed to throw Kurt off.

“So you got a message for me, right?” Logan knew that this Kurt wasn't here for conversation.

Kurt's tail stilled for a beat.

“Yes. You aren't to wander without supervision.”

And again, Logan can see the expectation that there be a fight about it. The people here were all so primed for conflict. He wasn't used to anybody else besides himself and the other ferals being this way.

“Makes sense. We're strangers here.”

Logan started to walk back.

“I am still antsy, though. Don't people get that way stuck in here?”

“It's safe here,” Kurt replied sharply. “That's all that matters.”

“Sure. I'm not denying that.”

It didn't feel right at all the way he kept on getting wrong footed around this Kurt. He knew it wasn't something that should matter; they didn't know each other. It ate at him anyway.

“Hey. You train around here?” Logan ventured.

Kurt just gave him a sardonic raised eyebrow; of course, how else would anybody stay in fighting form?

“Wanna spar?” Logan asked.

There wasn't any hesitation in Kurt's nod. He did hesitate, however, when Logan offered his hand in readiness to be teleported.

“I'm used to jaunts,” Logan broke the silence. “Okay?”

Kurt took his hand and they bamfed. Logan noticed Kurt looking at him with some curiosity immediately after. It wasn't any different; that rush, that feeling of vertigo quickly overcome by his body. The stink. He didn't see what fuss there was in it. And then he suddenly remembered that it was Blink in this dimension who carried people side along as a habit; it was much less jarring on passengers. He'd gone and committed another faux pas. Cripes.

He took a ready stance.

Kurt cocked his head at him, tail twitching a question.

“What?” Logan huffed.

“You don't spar with your claws?” Kurt drew his sword.

“Why? This is just a spar, you want to be sent to medbay?”

“That would be assuming you'll even manage to get a scratch on me,” Kurt grinned cockily.

The bright beauty of it stopped Logan short.

“Suit yourself,” Logan just barely kept his voice steady.

*snickt *

At the sound go, Kurt bamfed. Logan parried lunging strikes at his face while getting steadily engulfed in a choking cloud of brimstone as Kurt sought out any openings with multiple bamfs. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal and when Logan caught Kurt's sword in the middle of a downward arc with his claws using a neatly timed flick of his wrist, he smirked at the incredulous widening of Kurt's eyes.

Kurt bamfed, taking the sword with him. He landed at a crouch, his tail lashing.

“Come on, that can't be the first time you've had that happen,” Logan advanced on him.

He got bared fangs as a reply before Kurt resumed his attempts at breaking through Logan's defense. Logan remained mostly on the defensive, feeling out the different and yet terribly familiar way this Kurt fought. Still graceful, but that was a secondary byproduct from precision augmenting a completely unfamiliar single-minded viciousness.

He's toying with me! Kurt thought as they fought on. By now it should have devolved into roaring and flying spittle; that was how it went with Weapon X, Sabretooth and Wild Child. That was the way ferals are. Brute strength and no finesse at all. How this doppelganger was maintaining his temper and drawing this out was unsettling. Not to mention that little trick of catching his sword, which impressed him, loathe though he was to admit it.

Logan couldn't help himself from grinning. He's finally hit the good savage tempo with Kurt and now it was jazz; beats from each scrape and clink of metal, riffing with him through the familiar footwork of dodges, lunges, parries and bamfs.

It was going just peachy keen in Logan's opinion, until Kurt unequivocally let it be known that he was not putting up with any more of this weirdness by bamfing onto the ceiling and clinging there, very much out of Logan's reach.

“Aw, come on!” Logan looked up at him, bemused. “I wasn't pushing that hard, was I?”

Kurt was further confused by Logan's response to his retreat.

“You planned to wear me down, didn't you?” Kurt guessed. “Well, that's all very tactically sound, but I don't have to just let that happen. As you can see.”

It dawned on Logan that nobody sparred for the joy of moving with each other here. It was all cold necessity. A series of tests.

“If I was just planning on winning, I could,” he replied. “But this was just for fun.”

He shrugged, sheathing his claws.

“...Fun!?”

Kurt's tail was making swirls of consternation in the air. It made Logan chuckle. Kurt's subsequent miffed expression just made Logan chuckle louder.

“It's always fun, Elf,” he grinned, without thinking.

“The one you know may allow such liberties, but I don't. I won't repeat myself!” Kurt snapped.

Logan's immediate change in expression made Kurt's tail freeze in the air. He looked so sad.

“...Sorry. I'll try to remember,” Logan muttered, looking away.

Kurt sensed that more awkward silence would follow. His annoyance was still there, but it was tempered by the immediate contrition. All that effort to be conciliatory was very strange and fascinating in its strangeness. He sheathed his sword and bamfed down.

“You get on with the other one, at least,” Kurt gingerly observed.

“Yeah. Yeah, you could say that. We got on.”

“I'm not used to being mistaken for somebody else. That would be Mom's specialty.”

Logan's eyebrows raised.

“Mom?”

“Yes. That is her gift; shapeshifting. You must know this, if you know the other. Don't you?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, I know about that,” Logan slowly nodded.

Darkholme. This Kurt's last name is Darkholme. Yet another amazing thing; Raven, any version of her, doing right by her son early enough to count.

“He's just as good as me, isn't he? Enough for you to make a habit of such 'fun'?” Kurt continued.

“Wouldn't be much fun if he wasn't.”

Kurt was irrationally relieved by that fact. He wasn't sure in the beginning of all this that he wanted to know about his own counterpart. Who knows what that would mean? After all, this Weapon X was weird. Not tamed; he was still clearly feral. But more sophisticated. There were gears turning in this one's head and more besides simple anger and blood lust fueled his fighting skill.

“If he was here, he'd be taking all of this on stride,” Logan recalled.

“Why would he?”

“He was part of a team that got lost in other dimensions. They spent a couple years jumping around, looking to get home. Us getting stuck here, thanks to the Black Beast? He'd already know how that felt and how it is to keep on meeting strangers with faces of people he knew. Or counterparts.”

Kurt digested this. It was all nearly too much to be believable, but on the other hand, he was looking at a Weapon X doppelganger. Maybe it was just a thing with that particular dimension; intruding and causing confusion through chance or machinations of those like the Black Beast.

“So all of you can't just stay where you started. That's not being very good neighbors.”

Logan snorted.

“Hey, my home dimension's gotten visitors too. It's something that happens. It just hasn't happened to me personally before now.”

“Who were they? Other counterparts?”

“Well,” Logan saw a chance to get another amusing reaction. “In a way. You managed to get married and have a daughter in one of the other dimensions. She turned up.”

And there it was, those pupil-less eyes bugging out and his tail whirling around like an agitated cat's. Logan snickered.

“A daughter? What- What's she like?”

“Let's see. Took after your side of the family; she's blue and has your mother's eyes.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“It's difficult,” Kurt glared at Logan. “You ought to know it's difficult to look like this.”

“Sure. Sure. But you wanted to know.”

“Yes. She has powers as well?”

“She can possess the bodies of others. One at a time; jump in and puppet people around. She's good in a fist fight on top of that. She's a good kid, TJ.”

“What kind of name is TJ?” Kurt's nose wrinkled.

“Uh,” Logan struggled to recall. “Talia Josephine Wagner. That's what it was.”

“I assume her mother did the naming, then,” Kurt was rueful. “...Do you know who that woman was?”

“Yep.”

“Well?”

“Wanda Maximoff. Do you-”

“Miss Wanda? Erik's daughter? That's WEIRD.”

Logan shrugged. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't.

“It doesn't matter here, anyway,” Kurt concluded. “She has died in battle.”

He fell silent, wondering at the clues on how different it was in that other world. Wagner. That one's mother must have married; the very idea of it for his own mother was ludicrous. He felt a snap of envy at what even the other one getting married at all meant, let alone to someone as from a powerful family as a Maximoff. None of any of that was possible here, in so many ways.

“Sorry. Sad things keep on turning up when I don't mean for it.”

Kurt blinked, before realizing that his silence was misinterpreted.

“I did not know her very well,” Kurt explained. “We weren't anything to each other.”

What he couldn't explain was why it suddenly mattered at all to tell this doppelganger that fact.

“Still, it's not good company manners.”

“What do you know about manners?” Kurt scoffed.

“A little. Just a tiny, little, bit,” Logan held up his thumb and forefinger. “I could've just kept on calling you Elf instead of being polite and trying not to.”

Kurt had to concede to that point, even smiling from Logan's gesture.

“In fairness, if you are in the habit of using that name, he must have called you something else besides your codename. And you ought to tell me, for politeness' sake.”

“Politeness, huh?”

“Fine. I'm feeling curious and you are definitely going to answer the question, no matter what.”

“Liebchen.”

Cold, desperate, immediate embarrassment washed over Logan. The hell did he have to say that for? He kept his gaze resolutely on this Kurt's face.

“...Hah,” Kurt replied flatly. “That's a joke, right? I'm supposed to be laughing. You're not so much a comedian as you think.”

“Hey. I'm not a liar,” Logan protested.

Kurt's tail curled around and he tapped the tip of his tail-spade on Logan's chest to emphasize his point. He met the challenge of Logan's protest with his lip curled with annoyed disbelief, sinuously trailing his tail-spade downwards on Logan's torso.

“Just a poor joke teller,” Kurt sniffed. “It's not even that difficult to prove otherwise-”

Kurt's triumphant expression when Logan caught his tail just before it got any lower past his waist was cut short when Logan raised the tail-spade up and very slowly and deliberately began licking at it with his tongue.

Logan kept his grip firm as the whole of Kurt's tail jerked in surprise. Now it was Kurt having difficulty looking the other in the eye as Logan slid his lips over the flanges of the tail-spade, warming it, feeling the tremble and quiver of it as he sucked on it.

This was stupid. Dangerously stupid, but Logan was past caring because Kurt was blushing, not that he could see under all that fur. He didn't need to see, though; he knew. He knew very well it was happening from the shift in stance and the blinking of Kurt's eyes.

He let go and Kurt's tail whipped away, making a snap in the air.

“Not a liar,” Logan repeated.

“...You shouldn't have done that,” Kurt whispered.

“I-”

“You shouldn't have done that with ME!” *bamf *

“Aw, shit!” Logan burst out. “SHIT!”

His claws popped. Tiredness settled around his shoulders, gray melancholy that his claws couldn't cut away. He shook himself out of it, taking a few breaths. It wouldn't do any good to look for Kurt; why make the mess bigger? What was the point? Logan gladly allowed his grumbling stomach to distract him with the necessity of getting some grub. He also resolved to find out what the Atlanteans had on offer when it came to liquor.

After about an hour or so later of bedeviling his liver's healing factor he was informed that if he wanted more drink he was free to take all the salt water he could handle. So he took the hint and found his way to his assigned quarters. The door slid open. Logan picked up a faint waft of left over brimstone.

"Why is it that I had to find out from the one called Psylocke that the other died in your world? Did you not say to spare my feelings? Or was it to spare yours?"

Logan could only make out the glow of two eyes in the darkest corner of the room.

"I don't know."

"That's because you are clearly a moron," Kurt's tone remained peeved.

Logan closed the door behind himself. He didn't know whether or not it he'd be allowed to turn on the lights. Kurt made that decision for him, standing up from his crouch and flicking a switch with his tail. He wanted, for once, to be clearly seen.

“Okay.”

Kurt's eyes narrowed at Logan. Was he just humoring him?

“I don't like feeling guilt. This is something you can understand, right? How it made me feel, to have your attention on me, when it is not ME, it was him you looked for. And you are so far away from home.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. So I'm just gonna say that I'm sorry-”

“Apology is not necessary. It was- It IS real,” Kurt made an impatient gesture. “It's no joke. The way you've looked at me. The things you've said. It's not you being strange. It's all- Feelings.”

“...Kurt, uh,” Logan's mouth wasn't doing much better than the stuttering going on in his mind.

“Your dumbassery has been duly noted.”

Kurt fell silent but Logan could tell just by the way the tip of Kurt's tail was twitching that he wanted to say more. He could wait.

"I'll tell you what I else found out about my counterpart," Kurt continued. "It's come to my attention that he had completely terrible taste in men."

Logan had to hand it to this Kurt; he could sling down some zingers.

"It also seems that I share that lamentable deficiency in taste. So here I am.”

The wistful, yearning look Kurt had despite his insults made Logan want to gather him up and hold him. He was pretty sure that would result in a sword jammed between his eyes for the presumption.

“If I could have even half of that kind of feeling from anybody, I'd take it. I'd have that, at least,” Kurt murmured. “Even a little bit like that would be precious.”

“Who says you couldn't have something like that?” Logan carefully asked.

Kurt shook his head immediately at the idea. Logan noticed, however, how Kurt's expression was now speculative. Logan stepped farther into the room. Kurt did not step back; unconsciously swaying towards him. Logan settled back onto his heels, looking up at Kurt, feeling the tension unspool in the air between them.

“Aw, hell,” Logan muttered, before cupping his palm to Kurt's cheek and bringing him close for a kiss.

A long time ago, when his youth necessitated Mystique staying put in one spot to raise him, there was a top secret stash of tawdry romance novels in the very back of the very bottom drawer of her nightstand. Kurt had found that cache, well worn and so obviously cloaked with the thrill of the forbidden, that he couldn't resist rifling through the pages. The words described things so foreign to him, he skeptically dismissed it all as fancy and fairytale; after all, the only love he knew up to that point was the fierce strong lioness' love for her cub of Mystique. Love couldn't possibly be soft and enveloping; make you weak, make you sigh. He dismissed all of that in favor of tantalizing technical details he managed to decipher from the purple prose.

Yet, here he was, being kissed and he had just enough presence of mind to marvel at how his knees were actually, factually, unambiguously buckling. Logan's free arm wrapped around his waist, holding steady and the sudden intimacy of it made Kurt's tail spasm and shiver, stilling only when it wrapped around one of Logan's legs. He didn't know what to make of any of it; only instinct and those suddenly illuminating novels let him know that Logan was giving him lover's kisses, boiling over with desire and need.

“We got- We got to stop,” Logan managed to shift back, breaking the kiss and avoided looking at how Kurt's face had transformed, how he was raw temptation embodied with the way he was all panting and wide-eyed. Gorgeous.

He didn't let go, however; he'd missed that peach-fuzz feel of Kurt under his hands. He didn't have the will to do it, not with Kurt's scent so fresh and not when he felt so hot, so alive.

“What if- What if I want-” Kurt frowned.

This Kurt doesn't know what he's doing to me with that pout, Logan had to hastily remind himself as his gaze got caught on those lips, all shiny from kissing.

“Who knows if there's a tomorrow for any of us?” Kurt clutched at Logan. “Please, I want more, I want to know it, taste it, HAVE it! Give me tonight!”

Logan yielded, because he knew very well that morbid thought and because it was simply not in him to refuse anything of Kurt, no matter that this one was all edges and glares, more sour than sweet in his moods and words.

Kurt pulled Logan's cowl off and it made him almost shy, the way Kurt focused on looking at him, so keenly memorizing. Logan distracted himself from it by peeling Kurt's uniform off; that was completely familiar, down to the fiddly bit of getting Kurt's tail free.

Kurt shivered; he had to fight down the compulsive urge to bamf away, to hide. He hated stares in the light, how it was clearer at no other time how different, how strange he looked. But here, now, having Logan touching him, so sure and unhurried, it was good. Logan pulled his gloves off his teeth and ran his hands over the fur of Kurt's sides and hips, laughing when Kurt jumped after cupping and squeezing his buttocks.

Logan bent forward and kissed and nuzzled at Kurt's chest, smelling him, feeling that heartbeat. Kurt groaned, letting his head tilt back, arching into it. He couldn't concentrate at all, running his fingers through Logan's hair while Logan hurriedly multitasked by shucking off his own uniform.

Logan worked his way back up and Kurt dove in, greedy for more kisses. There still some skittishness in his posture, but Logan pulled him in, making him jolt from the feeling of hardnesses meeting and sliding against each other.

Logan backed towards the bed, pulling Kurt in with him. Kurt had taken Logan's left hand in his own and he didn't let go, lacing their fingers together. He said nothing of that move as he rubbed against Logan, purring. He savored it all; how Logan just knew how to pet him while kissing at an ear, tracing the point of it with his tongue. He was saying the most outrageous, gloriously obscene things; how Kurt was beautiful, that he smelled delicious, that he tasted like sex, that he was driving Logan mad with want. He'd never heard such things before.

He was definitely not prepared for when Logan made good on his words and his previous demonstration with Kurt's tail-spade. Logan slid down and gave Kurt that indescribably good sensation of lips pressing and sliding over his cock.

He didn't last. He couldn't possibly, not with Logan doggedly amping up the suction, marvelously playing with his foreskin with his tongue. Kurt made shameful mewling sounds as he practically attempted to crawl down Logan's throat and squeezed Logan's hand painfully has he came.

Logan rubbed his cheek on the fur of Kurt's hip after, fondly observing Kurt's wonderment and lassitude.

“Come up here,” Kurt murmured, pulling on Logan's hand.

Kurt undulated against him and insinuated his tail into place, taking hold of Logan's hardon with his tail-spade's flanges and stroking him. Kurt watched Logan intently as he rasped and growled, moving with the rhythm given to him. Kurt ran his free palm over Logan's shoulders and chest, splaying his fingers and kneading at the muscles there, learning. When got too much, Logan kissed him again while he trembled through it, making wet marks on Kurt's stomach.

Kurt's nose wrinkled despite himself and Logan laughed, putting his head down onto a pillow, not muffling it very much. He kept his eye on Kurt, though. He's learned enough to know that this Kurt would not be above expressing his annoyance with more force than necessary. For the moment, there was only Kurt's tail lashing.

“Hey,” Logan held up his hand, still in Kurt's grip. “I'll clean you up. And then-”

“More.”

“Yep.”

“Then why wait?”

Kurt let go. And bamfed. Logan only had time to sputter and cough twice before Kurt was back in the room, holding out a towel. There was a glint in his eye that made Logan very sure that he got a face shot of brimstone on purpose. Logan just made a wry grunt as Kurt got back into bed before taking the towel and wiping at the wet spots. He soon began licking and making small nips at Kurt's sides. Kurt basked under the attention.

Logan wasn't surprised that in addition to the towel Kurt had a small jar of lube with him.

“How do you want to do this?”

Kurt didn't say; maybe he didn't even know what the words were. He spread his legs instead, shifting his tail aside. He closed his eyes at the first touch of Logan's fingers.

“It feels odd,” Kurt finally muttered.

“...Lots of things do,” Logan said nonsensically.

Kurt made an amused sound; Logan's non sequitur helped. Otherwise he'd be having second thoughts. His eyes closed again when it crossed over from strange feeling to downright uncomfortable. Logan crooned in his ear, soft assurances that it'll be good and Kurt found himself believing him.

Logan smiled when he found that spot and Kurt's eyes flew open and his hips jumped.

He was making those noises that Logan had missed hearing, a growing keening as he lost himself. He kept at it, making him writhe, until Kurt started clawing and clutching at him again, not satisfied with just that. When he rocked his way in, everything went tight in Kurt's body at the joining and his fingers were scratching furrows into Logan's back.

“Whoah,” Logan hissed. “Whoah. Slow-”

“Never! FUCK!”

All that reckless insistence thrilled Logan and the hot sweat slick work of it, making Kurt cry out, feeling the sharp dig of his nails with each stroke. Everything was so vivid, those long legs wrapping around him, that unguarded look on his face, the way he kissed, still new at it but going all in. It was just insidious deja vu; his Kurt wasn't a novice at kissing by the time they became each other's. Logan growled, letting that thought go. There was only this, right here, right now.

Logan didn't think he felt safe enough to say anything afterward. They lay side by side, still warm. It felt good. Kurt sighed, taking Logan's left hand again in both of his hands.

“The other. He was so lucky,” he murmured. “So lucky.”

Logan could only clear his throat.

“Thank you,” Kurt brought the back of Logan's hand to his lips. “You're a very generous man. Logan.”

“Kurt-”

“Don't feel sad for me,” Kurt's eyes sharpened. “I forbid it.”

“Okay.”

Kurt smiled, satisfied. He settled further into place beside Logan and closed his eyes.

“I'll probably not be here when you wake up. Don't misunderstand. We have work to do.”

“Yeah. I get that. Tomorrow.”

Logan ran his hand over Kurt's fur one more time. He went to sleep.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Familiar in a Stranger's Face