This is the first story of a much longer story arc, which is best read in the order of the List at the end.

Translation of German words or phrases at the end. However, I have tried to make the meaning fairly clear in context.


It’s almost 2 years after the Battle of the Golden Gate Bridge. In addition to being an X-Man, Kurt has recently begun teaching classes at the School.



PROLOGUE: MORNING DEVOTIONS
Mein Gott, is the sun coming up already?! Yes, it must be. The windows are getting light. Pfui! It would be so nice to remain here in bed, with the warmth of Logan’s body close against my back. Why did I tell Storm I would teach the German class so early in the morning? I should have remembered how much I hate getting up early, especially after Logan and I spend most of the night enjoying each other in so many different ways.

Oh well, it is almost time for the alarm to go off anyway and that would surely have awakened Logan, who does not need to get up for many hours yet to teach his Danger Room class.

Regretfully, I extricate myself from his arms. I would much rather stay right here to wake up him up in a very different manner.

As I struggle out of bed, I wonder, as always, if Logan is just pretending to be asleep. After all this time, he knows how grouchy I am in the mornings. Better to avoid me entirely. I must confess to envying him lately, still snug in bed as I get up, shivering in the early morning chill as the air hits my bare skin. Maybe it would be better if I wore pajamas? Nein, I know what would happen if I did. I cannot afford to buy a new pair every night just because he likes to undress me with his claws.

I quietly pull the bathroom door closed behind me, heading for the shower. After I turn on the water to let it warm up, I go to the toilet. As I stand emptying my bladder, I look out the small window and see the snow-covered trees on a section of the estate. Being on the third floor of the building, I can see for quite a distance. It would be a lovely view if my eyes were not so bleary. Oh well, a hot shower will fix that and leave me more alert.

Has it really been a little less than two years that I have been living here? It seems like forever. I can not believe that I feel so at home.

I shake my head in wonderment as I shake off the last drops of pee, then step into the shower, which has finally gotten around to producing hot water.

Gratefully, I step into the warmth of the shower and let the water rush over my back while washing my hair. I start soaping my chest and the front of my body, then turn around. The sudden impact of water hitting my penis makes me gasp, as the familiar jolt of desire tenses my muscles and creates that wonderful feeling deep inside me. I play back the memory of the night that is now ending, feeling again Logan’s fingers, his mouth, working on me, opening me with his cock, filling me with pleasure and cum. The ache grows within me. Forget the verdammt class. Let me just go back to Logan. We could –

No, Kurt. Stop it. Stop it right now. Storm will wring you out and hang you up to dry if you fail to appear for your class. Most especially so since the students will all have a pretty good idea of why I am not there and what I am doing. Sometimes there are disadvantages to being honest and open about one’s sexuality.

Reluctantly, I turn off the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist to discourage my stiffening cock’s obvious intentions.
I get dressed quickly and quietly in the dim bedroom. Suits and ties have never caught on here, except for Professor Xavier himself, thank goodness! I do not even have to wear shoes if I do not want to – and I do not.

Just before I leave the room, I go over to the bed to check on Logan. As long as I am lying beside him with one of his arms draped over me, he tends to lie still. However, when I am not there, he tosses around so much that he either gets tangled in the covers or loses them entirely. And let us not even discuss what he does to the covers when he has one of his frequent nightmares!

This morning, he is mostly naked except for part of the blanket that is draped artistically over his legs as he sprawls out on his back. The blanket affords him no modesty, as it stops short just below his genitals, as if it wants to draw attention to them, rather than conceal them. Fondly shaking my head and swallowing my lust at this vulnerable display, I bend forward to grasp the blanket and pull it up over him, only to find myself grabbed by two strong arms and jerked forward onto his chest.

“Gotcha!” he exclaims triumphantly, his mouth covering mine before I can even think up a retort.

Our tongues are soon exploring each others’ mouths, as my barely subdued desire asserts itself once again. I have just started to wrap myself around him in earnest using every appendage I have, when I feel a sharp smack against my backside. Logan breaks away from our kiss, a truly evil grin on his face.

“Naughty, naughty, darlin’. Get going now or you’ll be late for class.”

“Zum Teufel, Logan!” I curse as I leap off of him as fast as I can, while he laughs heartily. “What did you do that for?!”

“To get a rise out of you.”

“Vell, you have certainly done that.” I snort with disdain, glancing meaningfully down at the very visible bulge in the front of my jeans. “Vhat am I supposed to do about this?”

“Save if for later, Elf. I guarantee we’ll find a use for it then.”

He laughs again as he picks up the alarm clock, pointing a finger at it and ostentatiously showing me the time. “Better get going, Herr Lehrer, if you expect to make it to class before your students do.”

Damn the man! He knows full well how I feel about mornings, and still he harasses me like this. Then I shake my head. It truly is quite funny, the way he is lying there stark naked, an alarm clock in his hand and a silly grin on his face that is highly uncharacteristic of him. I start laughing myself, unable to maintain my anger.

“Later,” I agree, matching his silly grin with my own mouthful of teeth. “And I plan to hold you to that promise.”

As I turn to the door, I hear him say, “I’m countin’ on it, darlin’. I’m countin’ on it.”


SOMETHING A LITTLE DIFFERENT


Often I awake in the middle of the night to the feeling of Logan’s hands on my body. It is a delightful sensation, really. Still half asleep and happily drowsy, that familiar thrill runs yet again throughout my being, rapidly focusing inside me, just beneath the base of my stiffening sex.

The warmth of his body fitted snugly against my back fills me with a sense of security and safety. Somehow, he always ends up sleeping between me and the door, no matter where we are. I know full well that he does it to protect me from any danger that may enter the room, and it pleases me that he will place his indestructible body in harm’s way for my sake. But we both know without it ever being said that he himself is my greatest danger at night, with the blades that spring out and stab as effortlessly and automatically at the imaginary rage and fear of his frequent nightmares as in the presence of real danger.

Tonight however he is not moaning and thrashing in the grip of his dreams. Tonight his hand plays lightly over my chest, tracing the scarred designs I have carved into my flesh, his face nuzzling against the back of my neck, his tongue tasting my skin, and his nose doubtless noting the beginnings of my arousal.

Quickly, before I can get caught up in the delicious sensations, I say a prayer of thanks to God for having the man that I love more than anything else in this world here beside me. So what if we have been having a few disagreements lately over the solo missions Logan goes off to do, the ones he will not talk about even after he is home? Even if I have some idea of what is happening and I dread the day that silence is broken? Give me the strength to deal with this, O Lord, as I have dealt with so many things before.

With that prayer, I dismiss the worries that have been feasting on me lately, especially when Logan is away on one of those dreaded missions. Somehow, it will work out. I will focus instead on his evident desire for me, here, now.

From long experience, I know what he will do next, his hands drifting inexorably lower until he reaches my swelling cock, while his hips move, rubbing his own erection against the small of my back, just above the base of my tail. It feels so good, but I force myself to remain still, pretending to be asleep.

His fingers graze the scarred design on the shaft of my penis, but that is not his goal. He moves on, past my tightening sac, until I feel a finger sliding between my buttocks and rubbing lightly around my anus. The finger deserts me briefly, then returns cool and wet and slippery to resume its assigned task. My tail, which has long ago angled itself sharply downwards to occupy the narrow slot of space along the mattress between our bodies, pushes down even harder against the sheet in an effort to get out of the way. The tip twitches slightly as the circling finger enters me.

So far, neither of us has said a word. If I continue to feign sleep, there will soon be another finger joining the first. Ja, he does that now. I cannot help but smile. He will not spend too much time on this. Soon will come his cock to replace the fingers. And I am easily ready for it, ready and eager to feel him inside me.

Logan surely knows I am awake by now, but I play the usual game, pretending until it is impossible to pretend any longer. It is not really necessary for him to do this much stretching before he enters me. After all, we have been having sex for almost two years and I can easily take him without the preliminary fingers if I am aroused. In fact, I can and have taken him without lube and from a cold start, simply because my body has been trained to relax quickly when necessary. It is not like he has the biggest cock in the world, you know, although some people seem convinced that he does.

Contrary to popular stereotype, all mutant males are not hung like horses, and neither Logan nor I are exceptions to that rule. While my penis is about average in length when it is erect, it is rather slender. Logan has a slight advantage over me in length, and he is wider in girth, but neither of us can hold a candle to the typical porn star.

Be that as it may, he will still insert those fingers, insisting he only does it to wake me up. It feels good, so I do not try to break him of the habit. Surely now he is finished with this and his cock will —


Nein, another finger. Not the usual procedure. Still, not a problem. My anal sphincter is almost as flexible as the rest of my body and I learned long ago how to control it fairly well.

Logan’s fingers are far from being dainty and small, so by the time he starts probing with his fourth finger, I can feel it as a bit of a stretch. I could have taken his cock easily to begin with, and he knew it. What on earth is he thinking?

No more games. “Logan, was machst du?” I ask, becoming impatient.

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing, Elf. Everything’s OK,” comes the amused-sounding response.

All right, so what comes next?

He slowly spreads his fingers apart. It hurts, but only a little. However, something else about this feeling is beginning to bother me. It reminds me of – of what?

Logan must have smelled something change in my scent. His fingers become still. “Ya OK, Kurt?”

“Ja. Fine. But vhat are you doing?”

“Ya know what handballing is?”

I wake up very fast at that. With four fingers up my ass already, he is clearly not referring to the sport. “Fist-fucking, nicht wahr?”

“Yeah, you got it.”

The image of being impaled on Logan’s large hand and well-muscled forearm flashes before my eyes.