Summary: Warren's father is dead and with him the ties to his old life
A/N:This is unbeated as it is a comment_fic. It's spell-checked though, so I hope it won't be too bad.
Part of the Feral-verse
Logan found him on the terrace, looking out into the garden where they had buried Jean and Scott and the Professor. Logan knew because in the mansion news travelled faster than light and despite the fact that he and Warren didn’t really talk much he knew that Warren and his father hadn’t had that one talk that could have reunited them. However, it still surprised him to see how much it had affected Warren, who looked like a bird that had flown against a window one too many times and was slowly dying of internal bleeding while still not understanding why the invisible wall wouldn’t yield for him.
There was still a bald spot near the back of Warren’s left wing from the last time and beneath his dark clothes Logan could easily imagine the bite marks and half-healed cuts he had left all over Warren’s body.
Warren flinched involuntarily when Logan put a hand on his shoulder and tilted his head to give him a questioning look. Logan could understand what he was asking; they were alone here but they had never done it outside before, not when anyone could walk in on them or simply had to look out of a window. But for once Logan didn’t feel the desire to violate the boy; he looked too broken, too damaged. Usually Logan liked him damaged and broken and bloodied, spread out underneath him and too exhausted to speak but this was the wrong kind of damaged. It was wrong and Logan felt an undirected fury at the sight.
“Come on.” He led Warren inside with a hand on the small of his back and the boy obeyed him while letting his head hang, avoiding everyone’s looks on the way. Once inside, he locked the door as usual and approached Warren who stood still and tense at the foot of the bed, his wings neatly folded along his back. Logan stood directly behind him and began to open Warren’s shirt, slipping it over his shoulders and down his wings when he was finished. There was a strange intimacy in the act of undressing the boy slowly instead of ripping or slicing his clothes of as usual if Warren hadn’t already stripped before Logan had entered the room.
Logan opened Warren’s belt and jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers and making him step out of his clothes, leading him to the bed. He made Warren sit down before quickly stripping out of his own clothes. It wasn’t uncommon for them to fuck while Logan still wore most of his clothes, hell sometimes he only pushed down his jeans and underwear as far as necessary but not this time. With that kind of news Warren was vulnerable enough without Logan reinforcing the situation.
Logan sat down on the bed as well, gesturing for Warren to climb onto his lap. Warren did as he was told but he still avoided Logan’s eyes like he had avoided the looks from everyone since the news had arrived.
“Look at me.” Logan growled, maybe a bit darker and a bit harder than he had intended to but it yielded the desired result. Warren raised his head slowly, finally meeting Logan’s eyes. He looked like he was waiting for Logan to say something but when he remained silent, Warren spoke.
“I may not...” He said quietly, immediately averting his eyes as soon as he did. Logan understood.
“You will.” He tried to make it sound like reassurance and not like a command before wrapping a hand around Warren’s soft cock and kissing him, roughly but deeper than usual.
Logan laid him out on the bed without breaking the kiss or dislodging his hand. Logan knew Warren’s body and he knew it well. He used every trick and weakness he had on Warren and could feel how Warren tried to work with him. How he took up every spark of arousal that he felt and tried to morph it into more so that he wouldn’t disappoint Logan like he had disappointed his father.
He bit down every inch of Warren’s spine from his skull down to his tailbone but was careful not to draw blood. The smell of Warren’s blood always woke something old and feral under his skin and Logan knew that letting this side of him out wasn’t a good idea in the current situation. Instead he listened carefully to every sound Warren made, a whole range of noises, none of them as exciting as the moan Warren usually made when he had fucked him beyond exhaustion but enough to keep Logan interested.
Logan didn’t fuck him, which seemed to confuse Warren but he didn’t ask. Logan had taught him not to ask. Instead he pulled the boy against his chest while stroking his back softly, even his wings that were still patchy in some places from their last encounter. Warren stiffened at the unusual display of affection but gradually relaxed when Logan didn’t stop.
“I’ve got you.” Logan said, one of his hands at the back of Warren’s neck, the other curled around a wingbone. Warren began to shake lightly, silently sobbing against Logan’s chest. Logan held him close through his grieving.
The boy was his now.