Can't stop thinking about Logan and Kurt running through the snowy canadian woods, playing chase, climbing trees, trying to pounce on each other, giggling, panting, all while Running With The Wolves by AURORA plays in the background and it's the exact moment that Logan thinks.. that for the first time..
He feels free.
(Bonus points if they encounter any of the wolves that Logan has lived with before.)
Sure, He used to run through the woods with Victor, but it wasn't ever like this. It was always a competition. A race. A fight for first place. To prove their silent war of dominance that Victor often lost at. But this is... a game. They're playing. Smiling. Laughing even at the dumbest things.
No one bats an eye if the blue guy with a tail runs on all fours or jumps at you from a tree but the moment Logan does it, it's unprofessional and he's "not controlling himself" but the thing is. During these games.. he feels more incontrol than he normally does. His pupils widdening, his head naturally lowering, his hands feeling the ground, ears pricked up as he hears every movement, every breath of the other. He can smell him. Out of the thousands of scents around him, his draws him like a deer to a salt block. He digs his claws into the trees, climbing them with such silence like he was taught in Japan, staying still, slowing his breaths until Kurt gets curious and comes looking for him.
"Logan??" He makes the mistake of asking, letting the feral man's eyes lock on like a lynx during the night hunt. Which is exactly what this was. A hunt late at night. A game meant to ware them both out enough to sleep through the night.
Just as his tail flickers and Kurt's ear picks up the sound of a branch, Logan is already on top of him, heaving with heavy breaths. His claw is next to his head, deep into the ground, his other hand holding him down on his chest. Snarling in his face, Logan's high of truthful violence showing through such narrowed eyes only to smirk playfully. "You're dead." He states, stating his victory.
Kurt flinches at first, Gasping, because Father forgive him for this, but God damn who wouldn't be? To be spooked and a man like Logan slamming you to the ground? He had not a single thought about Logan hurting him, but his body's natural response only feeds Logan's feral desires. Truth be told, he liked when people stunk of fear only for it to become drowned in a thick creamy vanilla scent- or in Kurt's sake, Wine, oils and what he could only imagine sunshine smelled like.
Smiling widely, Kurt giggles an instantly later, his tail flickering excitedly only to pretend to be dead, drimatically sticking out his tounge with a "bleh."
The canadian scoffs, rolling his eyes. The idea comes to his mind of just how close they are. He could.. No. It was just the endorphins talking. The rush of the hunt. Besides. He couldn't bite Kurt. It would hurt him too badly.
So he does what every rational friend does. Pulls away. Though the moment he does, as if he could read his mind, four fingers wrap around his head and kisses him. The next best thing.
Despite the fact that it is Kurt who lost, it's always him who knows how just to handle that wild beast trapped inside of him. By letting him out and throwing away the key.
While others locked him up, Kurt took him on walks. If... you know.. those said walks included somehow always making out in the snow afterward...
