This is the fifth 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.



YOU WIN, ELF




It is evening in late July. I am watching television in the common room along with several of the older students at the School. The movie is “Water for Elephants”, which takes place in a circus during the Great Depression. I am totally engrossed in the action, fascinated by this view of what an American circus was like in those days.

“Elf?”

At first, I pay no attention to the interruption. Then I realize whose voice it is that I just heard. “Logan?” My eyes fly to the doorway. “Logan!!! Mein Gott, it is you!!”

“In the flesh, darlin’.”

The words are hardly out of his mouth before I am off the sofa and in his arms. His hands grip my buttocks and he lifts me off the ground, as my legs wrap themselves around his hips. He spreads his legs and bends them slightly, ready to support my weight as my tail curls between his legs, then up and around both our waists, pulling us tightly together. The zipper of his motorcycle jacket is cold and rough against my thin t-shirt, but none of that is important. He is alive and well, and he is here with me again, after almost four months that felt like an eternity.

We clutch desperately at each other, mouths seeking, colliding, kissing, our hard cocks pressing and rocking against the taut denim of his jeans.

It is over almost before it has begun. My cum pumps out against him, soaking the front of my shorts. I can tell from his motions and the look on his face that he too has climaxed. We both laugh.

And then we realize we are standing there entwined in front of Kitty, Bobby, Rogue, and Peter.

“Aw, shit,” is all Logan has a chance to say before Rogue claps her hands delightedly and the others all join in, applauding us and cheering for the show we have just put on. I have the foolish urge to untangle myself from Logan and take a bow, but have the sense to teleport us up to our room instead.

At the very moment that we reappear in some desperately needed privacy, a terrible thought occurs to me. What if this is not Logan, but Mystique fooling me again? My blood runs cold. No! Not again!

Still clinging to him like a demented tick, I straighten my arms and push back a little, scrutinizing his face for anything that might betray an imposter.

“Elf? Why are you lookin’ at me like that? I thought you’d be overjoyed to see me again.”

“I am. But you must answer two questions before I vill believe it is really you.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I vill explain later. For now, just tell me vhat is the meaning of the scar on my penis.”

“Uh – three letters, standing for murder, sexual pleasure, and despair. Your reaction to killing Herr Grüber.”

“Ja, that is it.” I incline my head a little, so that my forehead is directly level with his eyes and point to the center of the design that is carved there, touching the part that has the general appearance of a spike. “And this one?”

“You never told me about that one, so how do ya expect me to know the meaning?”

I start to breathe again, as I pull myself up against him once again for a quick kiss.

“I assume that was the answer you wanted, huh?”

I nod, letting him loose and jumping down out of his arms.

“Ack, Elf, you’ve made a mess of my pants,” he scolds, looking down at the damp spot on the front of his crotch.

“And you have made a worse mess of your pants from the inside. Do not blame me for that.”

“Why not? It’s your fault for jumping on me. You damn near knocked me over, ya know.”

“Hmph!” I retort. “The day I can knock you down that easily it vill be time for you to retire from the super-hero business.”

It appears that we will have to go through a certain amount of our usual pleasantries before we can get comfortable enough with each other to be able to discuss more serious things. That is all right with me. The delay will allow for my adrenaline to subside a little.

He grins. “C’mon. Let’s go get cleaned up and try that again, shall we?”

“Ve shall.”

As I open our bathroom door, I tell him proudly, “I have something to show you. Look.”

His eyebrows go up in surprise at the new bathtub in the corner of the room where our shower stall used to be. He glances at me. “You the one responsible for that?”

“Ja. I had it installed last month, hoping it vould be here vhen you returned.”

A shadow passed over his face. “You were that sure I would come back?”

I nodded, wishing it were entirely true. Even between lovers, there are always doubts.

“I vanted a large old-fashioned kind of thing, vith the funny claw feet. Vhen I vas a child, one of my rich customers had such a tub in his estate house. Ve took a bubble bath every time I vent to stay overnight vith him.” There. I can now speak of my childhood casually and without pain. “So do you like it?”

“Darlin’, I love it! I can’t wait to try it out.” Suiting his actions to his words, he takes off his jacket and tosses it into the corner, then starts on his boots.

Being much less heavily dressed, I have a head start, so I turn on the water and fuss with getting it just right, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he continues to pull off his clothes. I have always loved looking at his body, although no one would consider my Wolverine the classic image of male beauty. He is not taller than I am, rather stocky, much too hairy, his face too battered-looking, his dark hair too wild, and he always badly needs a shave. But he is the man I love, so what does that matter? His soul is much like his body in many ways, but it shines with love and compassion, and a kind of heroic glory that is seldom seen in seriously handsome men. I know it, for I know what he is inside. Or at least, I think I know.

The tub is almost full now, so I pull off my shirt and shorts and step into the water, sitting down and turning off the faucets. In order to give him room to get in, I bend my knees and hold them close against my chest, still at the foot of the tub.

“I get the comfortable end, huh?”

“Of course. I have had plenty of time to enjoy it all by myself.”

He steps over the high edge then sinks down heavily into the water, leaning back against the long slanted foot of the tub opposite the faucets. A look of pure bliss spreads over his face. I breathe a sigh of relief. It had occurred to me to worry that our lovely tub might remind him of the tank into which he had been submerged for the procedure that would bind the adamantium to his bones, but apparently that is the furthest thing from his mind, judging by his relaxed smile. Good. The last thing we need right now is for such evil memories to surface.

“You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve been able to relax like this.”

“Yes, I have. One hundred eighteen days, 9 hours, and 53 minutes.”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

This time I nod, ducking my head and glancing down into the water between my knees, then looking up again from beneath my eyelashes with a small smile on my face. Yes, I suppose it is a rather feminine gesture, but Logan finds it appealing, so I do it. Super Macho Man I am not. I will leave that to him.

Finally, I laugh and admit, “Ja. I am shitting you. The days are correct, but I have made up the rest of it.”

During all this time, I have been painfully aware that the mere fact that he is here does not guarantee that it is permanent. When he left, he promised to return in order to let me know of his decision. So far, neither of us has touched upon that subject. Sooner or later, it must come up. But not just yet.

Sliding down so his body is fully submerged, he leans back far enough to duck his head under the water to get his hair wet, then surfaces again, scrubbing the water out of his eyes and pushing his hair back so that it lies plastered down to his head, which makes him look most unusual. He leans back once again. The tub is long enough that his legs can stretch almost straight out along the bottom, one on either side of where I still sit scrunched together. I am content simply to watch him, enjoying his naked body. I want to take hold of that tempting cock and —

“You don’t look real comfy down there, darlin’. Let’s see if we can’t find a better way to arrange ourselves. Here, try putting your back against me and lying sort of on top of me.”

“Vhat?” I ask playfully. “You are really asking me to be on top?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

Carefully, I turn and slide up between his legs, then lie back as he suggested, trying not to let my weight rest on his genitals. I have to bend my knees up and out of the water in order to fit, not to mention maneuvering my tail down between my legs
then curling the end at the foot of the tub. The end result is that I am resting essentially on the base of my tail, but the water buoys me up so much that it is not uncomfortable for either of us. Logan, of course, is so weighted down by the adamantium in his bones that he does not float at all, while the water level is much higher than in modern-style bathtubs, so I am not left high and dry by being on top of him.

“You figured that out ahead of time, didn’t ya?”

“Ja. As I told you, I have had plenty of time to lie around in this tub figuring out such things.”

“And I suppose that’s all ya did while you were in here?”

“Vell, not exactly.”

He gives a short laugh. “I can imagine.” Then his voice changes. “Uh – Elf, what’s this new design on the back of your neck?”

“I decided to cover the scar left from William Stryker’s drug with something better.”

“It’s not another sin, is it?”

“No. That’s a Moravian Star. It stands for hope and love and promises that have been fulfilled. Storm vas kind enough to do it for me, since it is in a place that vould be difficult for me to reach.”

“Storm, huh? OK. Speaking of scars, why the questions you asked me earlier on?”

“Not too long ago, Mystique came here impersonating you. It – uh – took me a vhile before I realized it vas her.”

“Oh. Oh!” The light dawns. “And you reacted the same way you did when you first saw me?”

“Ja. Pretty much.” I avert my eyes, but he lifts my chin.

“Darlin’, don’t worry about it. That bitch can fool damn near anyone. Did I ever tell ya about how she snuck into my tent pretending to be Jean, at Alkali Lake?”

I shook my head. “Vhat happened?”

“Well, let’s just say she didn’t get what she came for.”

“I am afraid that she did get vhat she came for from me. But that vas my choice. I vill tell you the whole story later on.”

“How’d you figure out it wasn’t me? Oh wait. Those questions you asked me about the scars. She didn’t know the answers, right?”

“Ja. Right.”

He laughs.

“So why was she here, other than to screw you over?”

“She vanted to tell me that I am her son, but she is not my mother. She is my father.”

He takes a moment to think that over. “You’re sayin’ she had shifted into a male body and fathered a child with a woman, who became your mother?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll be damned! I knew she could appear to be a man, but I didn’t think the appearance was that – uh – complete.”

“Vell, assuming she vas not lying to me, I am living proof that she can.”

“You OK with that?”

“For now, I vill accept it as possibly true.”

He says nothing. I am not sure if it is because he has nothing more to say about Mystique, or if he could say more but does not want to. The silence lengthens. I wonder which of us will speak first. I decide to put off satisfying my curiosity about how well Mystique seemed to know him. Now is not the time for that, and besides, I do not really care even if they have been lovers at some time in his past. That is not important.

The water holds us both in its sensuous arms, and I feel more relaxed than I might otherwise have been. I hope he does also.

“You been takin’ care of yourself while I’ve been gone?”

“Oh, ja. I am fine.”

His hand circles my cock, moving slowly, beginning to arouse me. “I meant takin’ care of yourself in other ways, darlin’. Like this.”

“Of course.”

“And were you imaginin’ it was me while you were doin’ it?”

“Vell, a few times I vas, ja.”

“Only a few?!”

“All right,” I admit. “More than a few. I – uh – also had a little help from my friends.” I am not sure how he will react to this.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Lemme guess: Storm, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Hey, you figure I’m deaf and blind? I’ve seen how she looks at you sometimes, and the tenderness in her voice. Not to mention the way her scent changes when you’re around. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Vell, to tell you the truth –“

“Ah, Elf, you can be awful naïve. I guess you’d like me to blame it on your not having my excellent sense of smell, huh?”

“Ja. That vould be kind of you.”

He chuckles softly. “Ya gonna tell me about it?”

“Some day maybe,” I reply coyly, knowing perfectly well that I will, glad it is not going to be a problem between us. Yes, I know we have an open relationship, but such a thing can be difficult to maintain in the real world.

“I bet ya did it plenty of times here in this tub, huh?”

“Do you mean vith Storm, or vithout her?” I ask archly.

“Well, I meant without her, but it really doesn’t matter.” He continues to languidly work his hand up and down on my cock, which is beginning to react to his ministrations. I can feel his own erection poking against my back. I do not wish to try to figure out the logistics of sex in the tub just now, although I know we will try it eventually, probably when we are in the mood for something slow and peaceful. It would be all too easy to create a flood of water all over the floor if we were not careful, and careful is not a good description of what happens when the two of us get enthusiastic about what we are doing.

“Genug!” I say. “Enough of this. Let us get out of the tub before ve dissolve, ja?”

“Ja, darlin’. Definitely ja. I’m feelin’ pretty waterlogged myself. But this was great.”

We wash and rinse off quickly with the hand-held shower attachment as the water runs noisily down the drain. While we are at it, I point out how the attachment can be hooked up to a bracket on the wall and show him the shower curtain that can be pulled out and around the tub if we wish only to take a shower, rather than a bath.

Even as I dry myself off, I cannot take my eyes off of him. The water has flattened and darkened the hair on his body, so it lies against his skin in long streaks. His muscles move smoothly beneath that skin as he rubs himself vigorously with a towel.

“Sure do need a shave,” he remarks to himself, examining his face close up in the mirror above our sink.

“Not now,” I blurt out.

He turns to see me staring at him intently, my penis jutting out from my groin. He smiles.

“What’cha lookin’ at, Elf?”

“You. In case you had not noticed.”

“I noticed, darlin’. I noticed.”

The towel drops to the floor. In less than a moment, his arms are wrapped around me from behind, one hand over my breast with his calloused palm rubbing the tip of my hard nipple while the other hand is at my crotch.

I find myself pressed face first up against the wall next to the sink. It is so good to have his hand massaging my cock and balls, instead of my own hand.

“I know we’ve got stuff we have to talk about, darlin’, but right now, all I want is my cock up that lovely blue ass of yours. And I’m willing to bet a case of beer that you want it too.”

“No bet, mein Schatz. I vould lose.” His cock is already probing for my ass and I ache to have him inside me, but I block his access by covering my entrance with my tail. “Vait a second.”

“What for? Oh, yeah. Lube.”

I am already fumbling around in the medicine cabinet above the sink, and before he can finish speaking, I have the tube of antibiotic ointment in my hand and have opened the cap with my teeth, as my other hand is pressed flat against the wall.

“Give it here,” he says.

Since it is essentially nothing but Vaseline with an antibiotic mixed in, it will work fine. As soon as he has applied it to his cock and my ass, he tosses the tube in the general direction of the sink and goes back to what he was doing. By now, my tail is no longer in his way, since it is securely wrapped around my right thigh.

I bend my knees just a bit and tip my pelvis to make my opening more accessible to the hard cock already probing in between my buttocks, guided by the hand that had been fondling me.

Ah!