The Full Moon

Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of gay male sexual content.

*

We stood, not speaking, backs to each other, in the showers adjacent to the danger room, under separate sprays of water.

After a long silence, Scott spoke. "There's no excuse for the theatrics in there, Logan. You jeopardized the team."

"I'm the only reason we survived that rear attack, bub, and you know it," I replied.

"You didn't stick to the plan! Remy and Jean could have been killed!"

"To hell with your plan, Scott!" I was yelling now, too. "You think sentinels give a damn about your stupid little battle plan?"

"Logan, it's not..."

Before Scott could finish, I dropped and whirled, kicking out. I brought him crashing down onto the wet tiles. Before he realized what had happened, my arms were wrapped around his body and my claws were drawn across his neck.

"Get off me, Logan," Scott said, through clenched teeth.

"You gotta be able to improvise, Scotty. That's what I do. I improvise." I sheathed my claws and released my grip on Scott's beefy, oversized, muscle-pig body. He rolled himself to a sitting position. His cock drooped onto the tiles between his legs. He got to his feet, unsteadily. He was angry, and humiliated. I watched his bulbous asscheeks clench and unclench as he stood. I hopped up to my feet and rinsed the remaining soap off my body.

"You're out of line, Logan," he said.

"I was never one to color inside the lines, bub."

I watched Scott turn back to the shower and rinse himself off. His cock, always long and floppy, looked like it had chubbed up a bit. The boy had a dick, that much was certain. I wondered, once again, if that's why Jean had ultimately chosen him. I pictured Jean's beautiful, lithe body arching in pleasure as she lowered herself onto Scott's massive dong. My own cock started to thicken, and I tried to banish the thought from my head.

I left the shower and grabbed a towel to dry myself. Scott followed a few moments later. I caught glimpses of him watching me as I toweled off my hairy body. Through my legs, I saw him swallow hard as I bent over, pointed my furry ass right at him. I saw the distinct downward curve of his long dick pressing out against his towel.

"Enjoying the view, Scott?" I said, smirking at him.

Scott looked away hurriedly, pretended to have been stretching.

"What are you talking about, Logan?" he said.

I straightened up and turned to face him. "Look, Scott. I've been around a long time. Nobody seems to know how long, including me. But I've known a lot of guys, been around a lot of swinging dicks. I know when a guy's a little... bent. And you're bent, Scott." I jutted my chin at the arced bulge in his towel. "Besides the obvious."

Scott's shower goggles flashed red. He was seething.

I got up from the bench, and let my towel fall to the ground. I let Scott appreciate that my own cock, fat and thick even in repose, was mostly unperturbed by his presence.

Scott stood there, metaphorical thumb up his ass, stewing, furious, but unable to look away from my muscular, hairy body.

"F-fuck you, Logan," he said. He was practically shaking.

I shrugged and grabbed a bathrobe from a hook in my locker. "Maybe someday. If you're lucky," I said, and walked out.

That evening, the X-men sat around the table, eating dinner. It was pot roast night.

"Where's Scott?" Kitty asked.

"Scott had a rough afternoon in the danger room," I said.

"We all did, I'm afraid," said Hank, somehow managing to spoon soup into his mouth while hanging upside down from the ceiling.

"Oui, that was a rough one, mes amis." Remy forked a mound of asparagus onto his plate.

You're a piece of shit, Logan. Jean wired that one right into my brain. She was picking at the pot roast on her plate and wasn't looking at me.

In my head, I said, Sorry I gave your boyfriend such a... hard time.

She looked at me with narrowed eyes, scowling.

Logan! Charles said, in my head. He banged his fist on the table.

"Are you guys talking psychically again? OMG. I thought we agreed we wouldn't do that anymore," Jubilee said, looking at her phone.

"Put your phone away at the dinner table, Jubilation," Charles said. "And Jean, Logan. Enough. We have bigger things to worry about. Cerebro and I have gathered intelligence that Magneto and the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants are planning an attack, tonight, on the United States Senate Majority Leader."

"Good friggin' riddance," I said, my voice low and gravelly.

Hank chimed in. "Logan, while I'm sure we all share your, ah, distaste at the legislative agenda of the current majority's party leader in the upper house of Congress, it would be a dereliction of our duty..."

"Can it, Hank." I cut him off.

"We cannot allow Magneto to strike at the heart of our democracy, however diseased that heart may be," Charles intoned, waving a speared potato at me across the table.

"Your democracy, Chuck," I said, mouth full of roast. "I'm Canadian, remember?"

Scott appeared at the door of the dining room. "What's this about Magneto?" he said. His hair was gelled into a crisp bob. I saw he had shaved his beard into a goatee. Ugh. Typical of Scott to find a way to look more stupid.

"He's on his way from Asteroid M to attack the Senate Majority Leader," Charles said. "Scott, you will take Jean, Remy, Kitty, Hank, and Logan to intercept him, after we finish eating."

"I won't take Logan."

"Yes, you will. He has more battle experience than all of you put together. And Logan..."

"What is it, Chuck?" I said.

"You will follow Scott's lead. This is not a time for you to play renegade." Then, in my head, he said, I know you don't appreciate Scott's leadership style, but we need you at your best for this one. Bury the hatchet. Be the bigger man.

"I'm at your service, Scotty," I said. And I thought, You got it, Chuck. I'll bury the hatchet. Real deep.

"Don't I get to go on the mission?" Jubilee asked.

"It's too dangerous," Charles said.

"But Professor Xavier!"

"No buts. You will stay here and help me protect the mansion. Also, you're underage, and everyone gets naked in the next scene."

After dinner, we ran to the war room to suit up. We stripped out of our civvies and began to don our uniforms. With the usual swearing and griping about "how the fuck are we supposed to fight in these bullshit catsuits", Kitty and Jean jiggled, wedged, and cajoled their voluminous breasts into their tight spandex outfits.

Hank swapped his dinner speedo for his fighting speedo. Hank's junk was completely covered in thick blue fur. I kept meaning to ask him whether he had ever fucked anyone with his massive, furry cock. What was he even into? Was there such a thing as an intellectual female cookie monster?

Remy, tiresomely heterosexual as ever, was unabashedly watching Jean and Kitty wrestle with their balloon-like tits. He made Cajun-sounding grunts as he slipped into his own spandex bodysuit. Remy had a lean, dancer's body, but was coy when it came to nudity. I don't think I'd ever seen him fully naked, now that I think about it.

Then, of course, there was Scott's incomprehensible ass. It must have gotten even bigger since his last costume fitting, because he was having trouble getting his pants on. After we had all gotten into our suits, he was still trying to pull his bottoms up, muttering under his breath. The rest of us stood awkwardly while he huffed and puffed. Kitty inspected her nails. Jean, seeing us all waiting, furrowed her brow. A faint red and orange glow appeared around the rim of Scott's pants, and suddenly they jerked up over his ass.

"There we go," he said.

I winked at Jean. She rolled her eyes. We all ran to the Blackbird.

Once we were in the air, Scott started in. "Here's the plan, team. We don't know which of the Brotherhood is going to be there tonight, but my guess is that we will be pretty evenly matched. Remember your formations. As leader, I'll probably have to go mano a mano with Magneto at some point, so you may have to fend for yourselves. But remember. Stick together. Under no circumstances should you break formation. Is that clear?"

Everyone except me grumbled in acknowledgement.

Scott looked me in the eyes. "Is that clear, Logan?"

"Crystal, bub. Just watch your rear. You have a massive blind spot 'round back."

Scott started to reply but Hank interrupted him. "Might I interject, gentlemen? It seems our most prudent course of action may be to adhere to the, ah, proverbial plan that Scott has delineated, while at the same time availing ourselves of the extemporaneous abilities that Logan, ah, brings to the table, should unforeseen contingencies arise."

"Le monsieur Beast is right," said Remy. "I think we can all agree to that, right mes amis?"

Jean and Kitty shared a long look. They did that a lot.

"We're over the National Mall now," Scott said. From a distant, low-angled perspective, the Blackbird zipped across the full moon and landed next to the Washington Monument.

We stepped out onto the grass of the Mall across from Magneto, who stood at the tip of a V comprised of an assorted selection of Evil Mutants.

"Don't try to stop me, X-men!" he shouted. "The Majority Leader dies tonight!"

Scott, fists balled, one foot in front of the other yelled back, "We can't let you do that, Magnus! Go back to Asteroid M!"

"You and Charles and all your little friends are fighting for the wrong side!" Magneto yelled, rising into the air. "You defend these human scum even as they discriminate against you! Join me and fight for the liberation of all mutant-kind!"

"Let's shut this bozo up before he starts making too much sense," I muttered.

"Seriously," Kitty said.

"X-men, attack!" Scott yelled.

The entire battle probably lasted about fifteen minutes. Most of it was an extended one-on-one fight between Cyclops and Magneto, in front of the seated statue of Lincoln, as they exchanged energy blasts and debated the necessity of fighting against a known evil, even if you have to violate your own ethical creed. They each raised thought-provoking, if hackneyed, arguments.

Working in pairs and threes, the X-men were successful at picking off most of the Brotherhood mutants, who seemed inclined to attack us one at a time. However, at the end of the battle, a pair of Evil Mutants tried to pull off the exact same rear-attack maneuver that had foiled us in the danger room earlier that day. Once again, I was the only one who noticed. I broke formation, cutting low and to the left to make a wide circle in order to outflank the pair approaching our exposed rear. This, however, left Jean and Remy mostly unprotected, and they narrowly missed being decapitated by a flying flagpole hurled by Magneto.

"Where the hell is Wolverine?!" I heard Scott yell.

I leapt and whacked the two encroaching mutants' heads together, knocking them unconscious. I strode out of the trees and tossed their bodies into the reflecting pool. "Right here, one-eye," I said. "You're welcome."

The grim line of Scott's mouth belied his anger as he blasted the last few of the Brotherhood.

A critical mass of his mutants defeated, Magneto called for his cadre to retreat. As they flew off within his magnetic bubble, he called over his shoulder. He let us know that we should expect to see him again soon, and asked us to relay a greeting to his old friend.

The X-men had prevailed, but as was so often the case, our victory was pyrrhic. The Majority Leader was saved, but the next session that feckless, waxen, turtle-headed bigot gaveled in would no doubt lead to ever more draconian anti-mutant legislation.

We returned to the Blackbird addled, battered, chastened, and demoralized. In the air, the mood was somber.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," said Jean.

"We almost got our asses handed to us back there. It was embarrassing," I said.

"I would say we delivered the posteriors of our enemies to their own persons in a more than commensurate fashion, relative to their treatment of our posteriors," Hank said.

"I just wish the government would recognize that we saved them, for once," said Kitty. "I mean, we put our lives on the line and for what? They hate us! I can see tomorrow's headlines," she said, tracking a hand in front of her. "X-men rampage through the National Mall."

"Our duty is to protect people, Kitty, even when we don't agree with those people," Jean said.

"We may have saved the government, but Magneto is still out there, and until we stop him once and for all, he's going to keep turning up, like a rotten egg," Scott said. He added, "Like an unlucky penny. Or a..."

"We get it, mon cher," said Remy.

"I will accept your thanks now, Scott," I said.

Scott's hands tightened around the Blackbird's controls. "What you did back there was reckless and irresponsible, Logan," he said. "You could have gotten us all killed!"

"I'm the reason all of us walked out of there alive, bub. And you know it!" I felt my own voice rise in anger. It was deja vu, all over again.

"God damn it Logan! I can't..."

"Leave it, Scott," said Jean. "What's done is done. Let's just get home."

We didn't speak the entire rest of the flight.

After landing at the mansion, the team disembarked and trundled off to clean up and get to bed.

"Logan, I want to talk to you for a minute," Scott said.

Motherfucker, I thought. I just wanted to get a stiff drink and smoke a cigar on the roof while gazing at the full moon, thinking in no great detail about my past. Now I was going to have to deal with Scott and his bruised ego.

"Do you want me to stay, Scott?" Jean asked, looking at the two of us nervously.

"No, Logan and I need to talk," Scott said. "Alone."

Jean shot me a look, and then walked off. Be nice, Logan, she said, in my head.

I'll be as gentle as I was with you, toots, I thought. She projected a single, sarcastic-sounding guffaw into my head.

Scott and I stood on the tarmac.

"Walk with me," he said.

I sighed and followed him up the stairs and out onto the basketball court. He stood, looking up at the moon, kicking at the blacktop with his boot. His huge, muscled body rippled in the silvery moonlight. He truly was an impressive specimen. If he weren't such a douche, I would have tried to fuck him ages ago.

"Logan," he said.

I didn't reply, but stood, with my arms crossed, about ten feet from him.

"Logan, I'm tired of you undermining my authority." He turned toward me and unclipped one of the shoulder straps of his suit.

"What the hell are you doing, Scott?" I asked.

"I want to settle this, once and for all."

"You want to fight me? What is this, grade school?"

"I want to wrestle, man on man. No claws, no blasts."

I laughed. "No offense Scott... and I appreciate your macho bluster... but I don't wrestle."

"Why, are you afraid you'll lose?" he asked, calmly reaching around to unclip his other shoulder strap. I considered this, my eyes ranging over his body. He was fucking huge. I knew I was a better fighter than him, but in terms of raw muscle power?

He pulled off his spandex top and threw it on the ground. He stood, barechested, looking at me. He cocked an eyebrow over his visor.

Fuck this, I thought, and tore off the top half of my costume, too. This fucker wants to wrestle, let's fucking wrestle. I felt all the hair on the front and back of my torso stand up in the cool night air.

"I ain't gonna lose, bub," I growled.

He started at me, but I held up a hand and stopped him in his tracks.

"Let's make this interesting," I said. "If you win -- which you won't -- you get to do whatever you want to me. I've seen how you look at me, Scott. I'm throwing this out there because I want you to give it all you've got. Don't hold back."

"And if you win?" he said, moving toward me now, creeping slowly.

"You're gonna find out," I said.

And then he sprang at me. We tussled, roughly, around the basketball court, then rolled down a grassy embankment and onto the concrete surrounding the swimming pool. The submerged lights of the pool cast an undulating green glow on our sweating bodies as we grappled with each other.

I had the initial advantage. My accelerated healing properties had restored my body to a fresher state than Scott's, following the battle in Washington. But Scott had sheer mass on his side. I was having a harder and harder time slipping out of his iron grasp. We were both breathing heavily. He pinned me on the hard concrete next to the diving board. His sweat dripped onto my face and my body as I tried to wriggle out from under him. I tore myself out of his sweaty grasp and backed off, edging around the rim of the pool, trying to catch my breath. He stalked me slowly.

"I have to say, I figured you would go down easier, Scott," I said.

"What is it about me you don't like, Logan?"

"You're green, kid," I huffed. "You gotta remember, I've been fighting for... for a long time. I've seen a lot. You haven't."

He kept coming at me.

I continued, trying to distract him and delay our next contact, "Also... you're kind of a dick, Scott. Do you ever listen to yourself? Nobody wants to take orders from an insufferable prick."

"I suppose you think you should be in charge?" He sounded hurt.

"Ha. I'm not a leader. And as much as I hate to say it, Scotty, you are. These chumps, they need consistency. They need a boy scout, like you. I'm a wildcard. We both know it."

"Then why do you constantly challenge my leadership?" He had advanced to within striking distance. I needed every last second of delay that I could muster.

"I keep you sharp," I said. "With me around, you can't relax. You're better because of it." I smiled. "Also... I like turning your crank, bub." I pointed at his crotch.

He looked down. His erection was massive, snaking down his right leg.

He looked up at me, and his visor flashed red. He leapt. He hit me square in the chest with his shoulder, knocking the wind out of me. Fuck! When did Scott get so fast?

We rolled down another steep, grassy embankment and into a stand of pine trees. The momentum of our bodies sent us sprawling, and we flew apart from one another. The scent of man sweat, pine, and lycra filled my nostrils. As I gasped for breath on the ground, it dawned on me that I had a good chance of losing this fight.

[Author's note: if you want to know what happens if Logan beats Scott, jump to the "Logan wins" ending, below. If you'd prefer Scott to beat Logan, read on.]

~Scott wins~

I had only a moment to register this thought before Scott was on me again. He rolled me onto my belly and pinned my arms behind my back. He bracketed my legs with his meaty thighs.

"Do you yield, Logan?"

I struggled to throw him off me, but he was too heavy. I felt his thick cock press against my ass. Shit. Was he going to fuck me with that monster?

"Do you yield?!"

"I yield, I yield. Sheesh," I said, when I had enough air to speak.

Scott rolled off of me and kneeled in the pine needles. I flipped over onto my back, panting. I looked up at him, his sweat-covered body glistening in the moonlight. He looked back at me, then moved his head and chest over mine. I flinched, expecting him to begin whatever violation of me he was planning.

But to my surprise, he bent and kissed my mouth, tenderly.

"Scott, what the...?" I said, but he kissed me again.

"Shhh, Logan," he said. He was stroking my left hair tuft with his big hand. "Logan. I've wanted to kiss you like that... for a long time."

I felt a surge of desire flood through me, and I reached up to pull him down on top of me. We rolled in the pine needles, kissing each other more and more urgently. I groped his enormous arms, chest, and then his ass. I stopped kissing him as my hands ranged over his enormous asscheeks, feeling the soft, firm flesh under his suit.