Chapter Text
Logan let out a strangled groan as Jean’s nails raked down his back. She arched needily under him, moaning as her eyes flared with flickering flames. A hungry growl rumbled in his chest, hips snapping forward a little rougher in response. Scott sucked and licked at the rapidly healing red streaks carving down Logan’s back.
A thought doused in orange embers slipped into Logan’s mind. He gripped the supple hips beneath him, changing the angle as he sped up. Jean gasped out a desperate, “Yes!” her eyes squeezing closed and brow knotted as she drew closer to the edge. Whispering through the bond connecting all their minds together, “That’s it, that’s it, just like that, so good Logan.”
Beside them, Scott was jerking himself off furiously with one hand, his mouth coaxing hickies to bloom across Logan’s rippling back. His other hand was pinned between the writhing bodies of his partners, fingers teasing at Jean’s clit in a way that made her thighs tremble where they were hooked around Logan’s waist.
Pounding into her tight, wet heat, Logan’s mouth was locked on her pulsepoint. His lips moving, sucking, teasing at the spot that fluttered beneath his touch. Logan forced himself away from the supple skin, pulling back to watch her. She was glorious. The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Her body all taut lines of flexing muscle and perfect curves, rolling along in time with the rocking of his body. Her green eyes were stormy and her hair haloed around her in a wine red sprawl.
“Keep going!” Was the final flare of thought she sent blindly down their mental link before she was shaking through her orgasm.
Her walls spasming around him, sending ricocheting bolts of pleasure through his system. Her face was angelic as she lost herself over the edge, luscious mouth parted on a soundless gasp.
Logan dove back in, sucking and nipping at her flushed, peaked nipples in just the way she liked, to milk the orgasm for all it was worth. But he still gave them less attention than he usually would have before he began to move back up. Called in by the siren song of her arching, eagerly bared throat. He licked at the lines of her collarbones, laving his tongue in the hollow between them. Trailing his lips over her graceful shoulders.
Jean’s scent bloomed around him, heady and intoxicating. Cedarwood and vanilla, a dash of the coconut lotion she put on in the mornings. It was something that would only ever belong to her, something Logan had ingrained so deeply into his memory he knew it better than the smell of the deep Canadian woods.
It was overlaid by the fading scents of day and the more prominent sweat, sex, and arousal, all mixing together with the smell of Scott on her skin. When Logan had entered their room earlier, Scott and Jean had already been tangled up together, shirts hanging loosely on their frames and pants undone. Logan had frozen, half turning to leave the room and to give them their space. But they just smiled and welcomed him in. Maneuvering him to be in between them, guiding him exactly how they wanted him. It made the soft, secret part of him that he’d buried way down deep in his subconscious melt with pleasure.
Logan reached that taunting space where her neck met her shoulder. The place his mouth fit perfectly in, like it was made for his claiming bite.
He knew he should stop, they would notice soon. Pick up on the fact that he couldn’t draw his lips away from the fragile skin of her neck for more than a minute. They'd call him out on it, ask about it. Scott would definitely have something to say about the string of hickeys he was leaving across the graceful slope of their girlfriend’s neck. He’d nag at him, about how they lived at a school, and they had to set a good example. And then maybe he’d start wondering why Logan couldn’t seem to stop when he was usually better at avoiding the heavy PDA, despite the flippant front he liked to put up.
Logan was closer to the two of them than he was with anyone. He was an all or nothing kind of guy. And he’d jumped into this relationship with both feet, no hesitation and no holds barred. Hell, he’d agreed to a link between his mind and theirs, he’d let them in. They knew more about his past than anyone now, there was really no room for secrets between them.
But he couldn’t let them know about this. Not this. So he should really stop, get a fucking hold on himself, and pull back.
But his thrusts were only getting harder, claws peeking out from between his knuckles. Jean was breathing heavily in his ear, and Scott was murmuring into his hair about how good they looked together. Egging him on with heated teases of how Logan couldn’t control himself, how sexy he looked losing that control, how hot he was when he just couldn’t stop.
He would undoubtedly optic blast Logan right off of her if he knew just how true that statement was. If he knew the wild beast that was lurking under Logan’s skin had its teeth to Jean’s unprotected throat right now.
Logan was panting into the gentle curve of her neck, the sounds edged with growls he couldn’t help as the tension inside of him only grew. Jean moaned, high and breathy, as he scraped his teeth down the tendons flexing in her throat. Reaching the juncture of where her neck met her shoulder again, he couldn’t help the way his jaw worked. Worrying at the skin, teeth scraping deliciously back and forth, again and again like he just couldn’t get enough. Lightly biting as if he was sizing up the perfect spot to drive his canines in.
He drew his nose up the column of her neck, taking in a deep, savoring sniff of all their intermingling scents. It was mouthwatering. He knew he should be worrying about the mess of drool sliding down her skin, how embarrassing that was, how uncomfortable it probably felt for Jean… But it all slipped from his mind as he made his way back down and nipped at the crook of her neck again.
He could all too easily lose himself in this sensation. The roll of his body over hers, the tight heat, his partners’ strong hands on his body, Jean’s delicate skin flushed so beautifully red… the perfect give of that skin under the pressure of his teeth.
Everything in him yearned to press against that delicious give, to press and sink past it. To claim her, to mark her as his. Logan’s jaw was quivering with his restraint. Forcing himself to keep the bites light and fleeting, only kissing against her skin. Whines built in his chest with the need to bite down. He viciously tamped down the desperate sounds as he pressed a firm kiss to her rubbed raw skin. Letting out a heavy huff as his teeth automatically raked across the spot again, unable to stop.
Jean’s voice was hoarse yet whiskey smooth with satisfaction and lingering arousal. “Go on, that’s it, bite me.”
It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him. Logan froze. “What…”
“Bite me, Logan,” She repeated.
He looked incredulously from Jean to Scott and back again, shaking his head. “I… No.”
She spoke hesitantly, knowing she was treading into dangerous waters, “Why not? We know you want to.”
Logan pulled back. Snapping out in a gruff, defensive voice that held traces of a growl, “Because you don’t know what that means!”
“No, I think we actually might.” Jean was using that ultra soft, patient voice that never failed to rankle him. It was setting off alarm bells. “Listen, sweetheart, Scott and I did some research—”
Logan hurriedly pulled out, scooting back on the bed and away from them both. He flushed red, anger, embarrassment, and disbelief warring in him. “Research? What, so you looked up, fuckin’, wolverine mating rituals,” He furiously spat out those words like they were venom on his tongue. “And now you think you know what I want?”
Jean and Scott were sitting up now, watching him with wide, wary eyes that made him want to run out of the room. Their brows were pinched and their mouths were tight and remorseful in near identical expressions. It was only another reminder of how long they’d been together, how he would never quite manage to perfectly slot his pieces together with theirs. No matter what he did or how hard he tried, he was just intrinsically different from them.
“Logan. You’re not an animal,” Scott said firmly.
He just shook his head, shoulders curving inward like he wanted to disappear. Just run away, from the room, from the mansion, from this conversation, from his disgusting, horrid self. Scott and Jean were the best things to ever happen to him. All he wanted was to be good enough for them, to be human enough for them. No one wanted to be in a relationship with an animal. And he'd tried so hard to be more than he was, taking on fight classes in the Danger Room and teaching history, he'd almost entirely stopped killing on missions. But it wasn't enough. Apparently, he was still so damn inhuman, that even before this whole fiasco started, they had been looking into how to appease his animal side. They shouldn’t have had to do that. They shouldn’t have to put up with something so needlessly difficult. Not for him. Not when it would be easier to just shove the beast outside with the other animals where it belonged.
Jean hissed, “Stop it. You’re not!” Clearly picking up on his general train of thought from where she was lingering at the edge of his consciousness.
Scott shook his head, his voice softening as he said like it was the easiest thing in the world to accept, “You’re not an animal. Not in this, and not in anything else. You’re a Mutant. And these urges don’t make you bad or less than human.”
Logan gritted out between clenched teeth, like even having this conversation was physically paining him, “I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes slipped back to Jean’s neck. To the patch of skin that was all red and irritated from the harsh bite of his teeth and the continuous rough scrape of his beard. But I know that I already have.
He made himself look away, running a hand through his hair and down his face. The backs of his hands prickled as his claws began sliding from their sheaths in his forearms. He forced them back despite how much he wanted to stab himself, punish himself somehow— because his mouth had started watering at the sight.
He didn’t want to hurt his partners. Except for the fact that he did. He wanted to bite down on that special spot at their throats that had been calling to him since he entered the room. Bite down until he tasted blood and then hold them there beneath him right where they belonged. He wanted to claim them both entirely as his, all his, only his.
And it was so wrong. They were like the sun and the moon, so radiant and beautiful and good. They were untouchable, a pair that was meant to be worshiped. Logan wanted to worship them, give them everything in the world that they deserved… And instead, he’d hurt them. Because he couldn’t control himself. Because that’s just who he was.
They deserved so much better than his beastiality.
Jean’s mouth was tight as she skimmed across the top layer of his thoughts. But still, she only responded to his spoken words, what she knew he was comfortable telling them. “Honey, you don’t have to worry about hurting us.” She brought a hand up to her neck, “This, I barely even feel it. Your saliva has minor healing properties in it. I’m really not in any pain.”
Logan gradually began untensing, lowering himself from his perch at the edge of the bed. Looking less likely to be one wrong word away from bolting for the door. Jean’s presence in his mind sunk a little lower as she talked, there were no lies in her words or hidden truths tucked away between them as far as Logan could tell. He cautiously lowered the walls he’d thrown up between his mind and the minds of his partners, opening the lines of connection again. When Scott slid a hand toward him, palm up, Logan took it with shaking fingers and let it draw him back. He couldn’t seem to get his eyes to meet either of theirs.
Jean’s voice was gently teasing as she saw him settling again. He was less defensive now and she was trying to coax him back into his regular snarky patterns. “If we’d’ve known that today was going to be the day, we would have had this conversation with you earlier. Then this could’ve been a bit more, y’know, sexy, and less ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”
He spoke slowly, not giving any indication he’d even heard what she’d said. His eyes were closed like he couldn't bear the words coming from his mouth; hating the connection that he was intentionally drawing to his animal sides, when he’d rather not acknowledge them at all. “Wolverines are polygamous but wolves, they mate for life.”
His halting words, as they so often did, fell short and inadequate. But he had to make them understand. They wouldn’t be able to take this back. Logan loved them, but did they seriously want to be shackled to him for the rest of their lives?
Jean looked at him with her deep, perceptive eyes. They were sad. Logan couldn’t feel her rooting through his thoughts but with her powers she often didn’t need to be actively looking to pick up on stray thoughts and the ambient trains of thought of those around her, let alone the people whose minds were connected to her own. Logan knew his thoughts often made her sad, but that was just another reason to question if she really wanted to be connected to his mind for the rest of her life.
They could still stop this. All he needed was the word, and he would leave. Leave them to their happiness. To their full life. It would kill him inside to go off into the wilderness, far enough away from civilization, for a long enough time, to be able to smother the voice crying out for him to go back to the people who were meant to be his mates. But he would do it for them. And maybe afterwards he could still go back to the X-Men, to his family, because no matter what he did he couldn’t seem to stay away from them, and be content in the knowledge that Jean and Scott were happy together. Without him.
Scott spoke as Jean leaned forward, her eyes wet, to press a lingering kiss to Logan’s shoulder. “Wolves mate for life, huh? I’m assuming that’s your way of telling us that you mate for life too.” If it were any other circumstance, that snobbish tone would earn him a sharp reprimanding nip and a drawling, snarky response. Sending them into a heated back and forth which would inevitably end with Logan bending him over the nearest table and fucking the impertinence out of him. But right now he just gave a single silent nod, waiting anxiously for Scott’s reaction. “Well, that’s good. Because we weren’t really planning on letting you go.” A cheeky smirk, saying simply, “I’ve made my commitment to you both. This is just another way of expressing that.”
Jean shared a smile with him, “Me too.” The warmth and love held in that expression had Logan’s breath catching in his throat. She turned toward him, “Logan. We know how hard this is. But we want you, instincts and messy Mutant urges and all.”
“And we want to mate with you.” Scott said in his terrible, earnest voice that was so sincere it made Logan quake down to his metal-coated bones. “Whenever you’re ready for that. It doesn’t even have to be today.”
Jean pressed another firm kiss to his shoulder, murmuring down their mental connection, “We want all of you, sweetheart.”
The next breath he took was dangerously unsteady. Bowing his head, Logan stretched his fingers out to hook with Jean's. He shuddered as Scott shifted closer and skimmed a heavily calloused hand up his arm. The muscles there were corded and bunched with residual tension. With measured movements Scott began lightly running his hand up and down in soothing waves to help him relax again.
Logan swallowed thickly. When he dared a glance back up, Jean and Scott were watching him with tender smiles. He felt his chest ache from the sheer amount of love in their expressions, the warmth of that love enveloping their bond in its soft glow.
It took him a second to realize what was happening when he saw their smiles deepen. A deep purr, halting and stuttering from disuse, was reverberating through his chest.
He couldn’t stop the blush creeping into his cheeks. Scott was biting his lip with the effort to hold back his laughter. Logan muttered gruffly, “Fuck off, bub.”
Scott cracked, snorting, an endlessly endeared laugh spilling helplessly past his lips. Jean hummed low in her throat, the sound amused and warbling with suppressed laughter. Her mouth was pursed to keep from smiling.
Logan’s mouth tugged upward against his will.
Scott’s arms came up around him as he sighed and slumped sideways against his strong side. He ensconced himself within their mental link, the presences of his partners’ minds curling around him. It was a secure hold, warm and comforting and brimming with love.
It meant that when Logan’s gaze snagged on Jean’s throat again, they were both immediately aware of where his focus was. Jean sent waves of comfort-reassurance-love across his psyche as she arched her neck enticingly.
Logan’s breath caught, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as raw hunger and want ravaged him. Loosing a breath, he closed his eyes. Basking in the warmth of the minds tangled up with his own, Jean’s golden light, swirling embers and flickering tongues of flame, and Scott’s deep, dark depths of surging oceanic blue. He focused on that encompassing feeling of comfort-reassurance-love.
Surging forward, he captured Jean’s lips in a passionate kiss. They slumped down until she was laying on the bed again. She carded her fingers through his thick hair, playing with the cowlicks on either side of his head. A shiver flicked down his spine at the pleasant scratch of her nails.
Then his mouth was back at her throat. Logan pressed a single closed mouth kiss to her windpipe. It was like something inside him finally surrendered, keening and submissive before the beast growling in his chest.
He secured a bit of skin between his teeth and sucked. The sweet flavors of her dancing across his tongue. It was like his thoughts retreated and the floodgates burst open.
Logan’s throat constricted around a whining growl as his teeth clipped together. A stray scent teased at his nose. It was delicious and distracting. Something warm and clean, like shaving cream, the barest hint of musk, and lemon lotion.
His teeth scraped ravenously down Jean’s throat in farewell. He twisted, his breathing heavy, to reach Scott. Mouthing at the strong column of his throat, canines nipping only just on the safe side of too hard. Scott gasped softly at the sting, and Logan was on Jean again, ravishing the delicate skin of her neck with single minded focus again. Scott leaned in and kissed Jean heatedly over Logan’s head.
He turned, gnawing at Scott’s neck that was now right there beside Jean’s. The animal below his skin was roaring in approval, mates, these were his mates. It felt like his head was spinning, their scents, addicting and intoxicating, were swirling around him. They smelled like love, lust, sweat. Their scents were entwined, overlapping and combining to create something entirely their own.
All of it tangled together in the perfect cocktail to drive his instincts crazy. It was perfect, this was perfect. He loved them so, so much.
Jean inhaled sharply.
Logan snapped out of the lust filled haze. Realizing he had bit down hard enough that he’d almost broken skin. He jolted and pulled back with a distressed whine.
His eyes were wide and anxious as he panted. Teeth buzzing with the need to sink into flesh. His cock throbbing heavily between his legs.
They gently coaxed him back with sweet smiles and softly spoken words. Logan settled, almost shyly, over Jean again. His knees felt weak as bit back down, sharp teeth effortlessly cleaving through skin. It felt right, like he was finally sliding that last grateful inch home.
An entirely relieved huff of breath escaped him as blood welled up into his mouth. It was the taste of her skin amplified by a hundred, crackling with flaring embers, the barest hints of a smoky aftertaste buried deep within the delicious metallic tang.
Logan’s vision whited out as he unexpectedly came, messily pumping thick white ropes across Jean’s stomach. His teeth sunk deeper with a growl so deep it rumbled against their bones. The clipped groan beside his ear should have spoken to him of her pain and had him backing off, but he could hardly process anything over the intense waves of pleasure and the all encompassing sense of rightness at the claiming of such a long-awaited mate.
Even the mental link where they were all still tangled together was muted to him right now. Scott was a solid line of heat along his side, just as Jean was aflame below him. Scott and Jean’s hands hooked together blazingly over his shoulder.
Logan was lost to this feeling. All this beautiful, addicting sensation.
He didn’t know how long it was before he began slowly coming back to himself. As soon as he was able, he unlatched from the inflamed skin, easing his teeth from her neck. His jaw ached and the world was fuzzy around him. Laving hotly at the bite in lazy strokes, a comforting rumble reverberated from deep in his chest.
The bloom of taste from the sluggishly weeping wound refreshed the staled one lingering in his mouth. It brought him fully back to himself, wiping away any last trace of the pleasant fog of pheromones and arousal. His mouth was sharp with the tang of blood. Jean’s blood.
He swallowed thickly. It coated his tongue, slicked down his throat, filled his belly from how it had flowed into his mouth and he’d swallowed it all down, not letting any go to waste. He remembered how he’d sucked eagerly for more.
Jean was soothingly drawing her fingers up and down his side, but he didn’t look up from where he was still poised above her neck. He didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.
Scott pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.
Oh god, Scott.
Logan couldn’t force himself to look up at him. He was terrified at what he might see there. The judgment that would shift into horror and disgust; revulsion plain on his face despite the glasses hiding away his eyes. Because this was Jean, their Jean, and Logan had hurt her. It was her blood that was smeared across his lips, coating his teeth. Scott wouldn’t forgive him for this, how could he?
A soft, pained whine was pulled from the pit of his stomach at the thought that he would be cast out. Of both of them rejecting him, now, after everything.
It would only be their right. But god how was Logan going to get himself to leave? Or stay away? It wasn’t like he could just kill himself and be done with it. But he didn’t know if he had the strength to keep himself away from them, from her, anymore. His lack of control over his instincts was what got them into this mess in the first place, so how in the hell was he supposed to have enough control to ignore the call of an already marked mate?
Scott plastered himself to Logan’s back, whispering, “Hey, you’re alright,” and dotting firm, grounding kisses across his back and shoulders. “You’re okay. I promise, everything’s alright.”
Logan didn’t realize he’d started trembling until Scott had already started calming him down. The inner muscles of his forearms flexed as they tried to push his claws out. He took a few deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth to keep them at bay. The last thing he needed right now was to accidentally stab one of his partners.
They either weren’t aware of it, or were being politely ignorant of the warning signs in a way that would usually have him rolling his eyes so hard a migraine would bloom in its wake. Would it seriously kill them to just take a step back when it was obvious he might freak out and impale one of them?
Logan just took a few more quick breaths to get himself back under control. He wasn’t ready to have that fight again, not right now. As much as they really should be more cautious around him, they certainly weren't going to start now. And right now, he really just wanted to be near them.
That weakness gnawed at him. That stubborn voice inside his head insisting he should pull away, that he was better alone, that it was better to leave than to be left… that they would leave him, if not now, then later and that would only make the pain of it worse. That he should protect himself and damn everyone else.
The thought tasted bitter even just admitting it to himself, but he didn’t want to be alone. Jean had accepted the mating bite, Scott had promised that he wanted to too. He knew he didn’t have to be alone, all he had to do was reach out and they would be there. All he had to do was say something.
Still, the words clumped together in his throat, impossible to force out.
Logan gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed. Scott was above him and Jean was below him. They were both right there. He breathed them in, their perfect scents calming the pounding of his heart, settling along his tired metal bones and filling the ugly slashes cut through his weary soul.
It was enough to loosen his tongue just enough to say on a growl, “Cyke.”
But that one guarded word seemed to be enough.
Pride glowed like twin flames in the minds entwined with his. It took him a minute to realize why. That they were proud of him. For reaching out when he needed to, for saying something in the moment of it and not just stalking off to grudgingly have the conversation hours later. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something, and for now, it was enough.
The defensiveness of his growl could do nothing to disguise the way his mind echoed with a pleading, “Red, Scotty, please!”
He could feel the curve of Scott’s smile as he brushed another kiss across the back of Logan’s neck. Their response was immediate.
“We’re right here, Logan. And we aren’t going anywhere.”
“We’ve got you, no one’s leaving, we’re okay.”
The warmth of their voices carded through his thoughts, caressing the dark and damaged recesses of his mind. Thawing him from the inside out like a breath of spring air threading through the dead of winter.
Jean was smiling, a soft quirk of her lips. Peppering sweet little kisses across his face; the bridge of his nose, the corner of his eye, the edge of a sideburn, the pinch between his eyebrows, the slowly curving corner of his mouth. He hated how well they knew him, how easily they could calm him. Effortless and efficient in a way that no one else was with him. He hated it as much as he loved it.
“Jeanie…” Logan breathed, a shudder wracking his frame as he kissed her. She eagerly swept her tongue into his mouth, tasting her own blood with a needy moan. Heat flared in her mind and the echoing arousal curled deliciously around Logan’s senses.
A knowing chuckle brushed past his ear. Logan didn’t have to follow the line of the bond into Scott’s mind to know that he wasn’t at all surprised by her reaction.
It rankled Logan a little to know that he was.
She had always had a wicked side to her, it was the first thing that’d drawn Logan to her in the first place. He’d looked at Scott, clean cut, prissy looking, stick-up-his-ass, Scott, and thought that there was no way in hell he could satisfy a woman like Jean.
But that insufferable little chuckle, breathed right up against his ear… Yeah, Scott knew about her wild side. Indulged in it, maybe even reveled in it; that sultry, domineering, near sadistic side of her. Logan loved to challenge her and push back against her control just as much as Scott loved to kneel before it.
It’s why the three of them worked so well together.
Still, that husky sound pulled from her throat at the taste of blood in his mouth threw him for a second.
Jean pulled back, flopping to the pillow with a contented sigh. Her smile was wide and her dark eyes were bright. The wine red of her hair looked like it was glowing, sex mussed and tangled and sticking to her face with cooling sweat, and yet glowing with a beautiful smoldering power that would bring gods to their knees. It wasn’t threatening, and she wasn’t losing control of it, she was just simply shining.
And the look she was giving him, and Scott by extension whose head was still perched over his shoulder, held so much love in it. So much happiness in it, that it was staggering. Logan would almost not believe the extent of the emotion if he couldn’t feel it burning bright and strong in their bond.
Her throat was slick with blood and cooling saliva, and she would need to get it cleaned and bandaged soon. It would probably need stitches. Logan had to work really hard to not think about the fact that if the bite was that bad they’d need to go to Hank for the stitches.
Hank would undoubtedly recognise the mating bite for what it was. He wouldn’t give them shit for it, but it would still be a mortifying ordeal for Logan.
Jean seemed entirely unbothered by any of it. Grinning up at them fondly.
She cradled Scott’s cheek with one hand, the other scratching through Logan’s thick hair. He shamelessly leaned into the blissful touches.
Scott pecked a kiss to the side of his head before rolling off his back. Logan almost whined at the loss of weight and comfortable warmth. Just barely managing to smother the sound with the shredded remains of his dignity.
Scott scooted over to the nightstand, switching his glasses for his ruby quartz reinforced sleep mask. Seemingly unilaterally deciding that it was time for a late afternoon nap. Jean seemed to agree by the way she flipped her pillow and snuggled down. Scott snuggled into her side.
It all happened entirely wordlessly, with Logan sitting off to the side watching in vague confusion. He couldn’t help but huff out an amused breath as the two of them squirmed and settled, then turned to look at him with expectant expressions. Jean’s eyebrows were raised in haughty arches, her lips pursed. Logan could tell Scott’s face was a near exact mirror of hers, despite the black cloth covering the top half of his face, by the judgment radiating off of him alone.
Logan gingerly laid down on Jean’s other side, the bed dipping severely under his weight despite his best efforts. Scott and Jean just gleefully flopped closer together. There was no hope for personal space during sleep when one of your bedpartners created glorified craters wherever he laid. They didn’t mind, Logan was too stubborn to admit it but he craved the cuddle piles as much as they did. This just gave them all the perfect excuse to indulge in them.
He took a deep breath, drinking in all of their mixed scents. His and Jean’s would be melded now, as much a marker of their mating as the claiming bite on her neck was. Logan cast his mind back to before he’d bitten down, to the wild frenzy that had gripped him, being tugged between two mates. How Scott’s scent had caught his attention, maddening and delectable. Now that he’d claimed one mate, it would only be a matter of time before he claimed his other.
For now, sleep was tugging at him, the drowsy scents of his partners only dragging him further down. Their warmth beckoning him to curl closer, sink deeper.
This was the type of moment that seemed suspended in time. The type of memory that would be perfectly preserved in his immortal mind. Something syrupy and golden and drenched in the feeling of his all-encompassing happiness, warmth, and love. It was perfect.
So many of his memories were steeped in pain and blood, but he’d gladly surrender himself to a thousand more of them if he could be allowed to live in this one for just a while longer; if he could be allowed to stay with them for just a while longer.
Logan reached out to their minds, submerging himself within them. The light emanating from them was muted and soft around the edges as they welcomed him in. The comforting darkness of rest encompassed them, dousing their minds in a cool blanket of peaceful quiet. They drifted off to sleep together.