Chapter Text
“Jimmy?” The soft voice of the woman makes Logan purr in pleasure. He rolls over onto his side, opening his eyes slowly. He catches the morning light, which had begun filtering through the curtains. The light seems to catch the woman perfectly, causing a beautiful shine to her face, yellows and oranges cascading down her body.
“Kayla.” He smiles, something twitching on his head that he doesn’t bother to become alarmed over just yet. His claws are hidden deep inside his skin, not even pressing to escape like they usually would. His eyes wrinkled around the edges, smile lines forming as he looks down at her. The calloused hand touches the soft skin of her face and somehow, she’s as perfect as the day he lost her.
“Look at you.” She whispered, voice low and weak, like a failed scream. Logan purrs slightly louder, the sound coming out as a soft vibration to Kayla, who was simply pressed against him. She wore his shirt, large over her smaller frame, falling down right past her hips. Once again, Logan feels something twitch, though this time it was between his thighs, lightly thumping against the bed.
His head tilts slightly, “What do you mean?” His voice is heavy with the fond feeling that seemed to simmer in his chest whenever he saw her- but of course, it had a healthy dose of amusement intertwined, sharp teeth settling just above his lower lip.
“You..” She whispered, smiling in awe. Her hand had gently touched the side of his head, where those cowlicks once were. Now, in place of those, were two light colored, twitchy ears. They swiveled towards any direction a sound came from. “Oh Logan.” She muses. When she touches the new appendages, something inside the wolverine snaps.
His body responds like a domestic dog, the small tail twitching rapidly, his right leg kicking out- but before he could even begin to writhe in the pleasure, in the loud rumbling escaping from his chest and the content feeling in his stomach, he felt his body jolt, going stiff. The weight of his adamantium claws seemed too heavy, his arms reaching out on their own accord. He hears the sound of her suddenly shallow breaths, and can smell the strong scent of iron leaking from the wound he caused. Panic causes his ears to flatten, and a low growl escapes him.
“Kayla!”
-
Wolverine wakes up with heavy leather straps keeping his arms and legs flat against the table. A growl escapes him, the lack of modesty something he noticed but couldn't bring himself to care about. He was well over two hundred years old; it wasn’t the nudity that startled him, it was the sterilized smell that abused his nostrils.
“Hey, hey.” Jean's voice echoed in the cold, dimly lit metal room. Wolverine growls once more, but this time.. It was weaker. Following that growl, was a soft noise. It was higher pitched, emitting from deep in his throat as a show of vulnerability he had not meant to project- as if to make up for the pitiful noise, a loud, dangerous noise escapes Logan.
The man bared his teeth, newly sharpened fangs slightly disturbing at the thought of just what they could do to not just Jean, but to anyone else- Logan wasn’t an animal, but this, whatever had happened, had changed something deep within the man.
“Logan, it’s just me. It’s Jean.” She smiles weakly, hands shaking.
Was she terrified? Maybe. She tried to hide it to the best of her abilities, not wanting to unsettle Logan more than absolutely necessary.
She wasn’t aware that he could smell her. He could smell the sweat forming on her hands, could smell the pheromones she released, pheromones she didn’t even know she had. James Howlett's mind seemed to jolt, unaware that he was the threat- that he had been the one to cause such a foul smell to emit from her pores.
“Those ears are.. Different.” Amusement seems to ring like a bell in his head, her scent rapidly changing to some odd hybrid of fear, worry, and enjoyment- happiness. Those new ears swivel to the side in confusion, Jean has to force herself not to coo at how sweet the sight was.
He could hear her- the light ‘awh’ that escaped her throat in a hesitant whisper.
“Do you know your name? Can you remember?” Gentle hands touch either side of his head, and to the Wolverine, he feels a bite inside his stomach. His instincts tell him this is dangerous, but something deep inside him, something that ached his heart and burned at his belly, told him it was safe.
She smelt soft, like vanilla lavender. Her hands smelt odd, hormones and body odor like she’d been touching those odd smelling underdeveloped humans. Teenagers, children, babies- all of them (yet teenagers especially- danger magnets.) made his instincts flare, screaming at him to ‘protect’, to ‘help’ and most importantly, to keep ‘safe’.
He relaxes further, until suddenly he’s not- and she’s inside his brain, trying desperately to unlock those memories of his humanity that this transformation seemed to hide away despite the orders given to her by the professor.
“James.” He whimpered; his usually gruff and exhausted voice was strained with pain. It made him attempt to curl up, trying to protect the vulnerable area of his stomach with the limited movement he had.
“James?” Confusion and relief flooded from her, was that the right answer?
“James.. Howlett.” He grunts, back arching uncomfortably, legs and arms pushing and pulling at the leather restraints. “Son of Thomas Logan Howlett, born February 9th, 1832.” The information spills, the noises leaving his throat seeming foreign- he had forgotten he could truly communicate outside of growls and snarls.
“I’m.. I-” Words are stuck, but she finishes for him.
“ Logan .” She sighs in relief, the sound of his voice had been missed throughout the mansion.
“Jean.” The new appendages twitch, his new tail tickling at his thighs, ears flickering up. It felt like she’d dragged the memories forward, like she had switched on a part of his humanity that had been muted after the other mutant had hit him- his face heats up lightly.
“Whe-” He pauses for a moment, “Where are we?” He coughs forcefully, trying to clear his dry and unused throat. He felt like he sounded stuffy- like he’d caught the flu but it only took his voice.
“Downstairs. You’ve been in the specialized medical bay while you rested. Beast was monitoring you, taking notes and all that, to make sure you were healthy. I wasn’t..” Her shoulders sag in relief, but before moving even another inch, she rolls her shoulders, reaching behind her head and snagging her hair as she did so. As she ties her hair up, the tight, wolverine-proofed belts release him from their hold- all six of them had left behind red-purple marks, decorating his body in bruises, reminders.’
“Where's Cyclops?” He mumbles, blinking slowly. The lights were dim, but still ached- and he knew walking up the steps was going to be a difficult adjustment. Upstairs was bright with natural and artificial lights, both types making his head ache.
“With the children.”
“Ah.”
The audible crack from his metal covered bones as he stands is louder than anything else in the room, and Logan groans from relief.
Jean can’t hide the laugh- in fact, she doesn’t even bother trying.
Loga gives her a growl, trying to hide the embarrassment simmering away at his stomach.