#james howlette

kurt wagner: kit wagner

james howlette: jaye howlette (logan)

Wolverine Fanart ;)

More under the cut ~

"You're Jean Grey, he's Scott Summers. Those are the rules. You just forgot 'em for a sec."

LOGAN 💔

He knows he'll never be her #1. That the love she's got for him will never outweigh the love she has for Scott. And yet he's still there. He's still supporting her, loving her.

He'd been sitting out on the front steps of the old log house he'd owned for decades but hadn't had the chance to use, watching animals run around and blissfully not thinking. He was aware-always aware-but he didn't have to do anything. A red squirrel wasn't going to find a way to kill him while it foraged for nuts. The only sound he really cared about was the steady heartbeat coming from his bedroom.

So he was still asleep.

The wood creaked as Logan stood, he'd made sure it could handle his weight but damn if the wood didn't let him know it was not happy when he sat. His feet thudded softly against the floor as he walked to the kitchen, not bothering to quiet his steps as he made his way around and grabbed eggs and bacon from the fridge. It wasn't fancy but neither was he.

In twenty minutes he had enough eggs to feed them both three times over, same with the bacon and as he grabbed a plate, the distinct sound of small feet made its way down the hall and crept closer and closer. Logan hid a rough chuckle behind the sound of clearing his throat and turned just in time for the two arms that would have gone around the backs of his shoulders to wrap around his neck.

He was smug about it too, half a smirk on his lips when he saw the surprised and maybe slightly disappointed look on his lover's face.

"I told you, you can't sneak up on me."

The man draped around him pouted and it was adorable; the grumbling laugh that shook it's way out of him said as much.

"You could at least pretend to be surprised."

"I'm not that skilled an actor bub," Logan slid the plate onto the table, freeing his hands so he could wrap them around his partner's hips. " 'sides, this is a better view."

The way the young man in his arms blushed made him grin like a fox in a hen house before he set him down.

"Thanks for breakfast babe," he replied with a grunt and placed a kiss on the top of the young man's head before he sat in one of the mismatched chairs at the small wooden table. The legs screamed under his weight. He was starting to take it personally.

There was a rustle coming from the fridge as a small glass bottle was pulled from the cold rectangle and the sound of paper and plastic ripping and crinkling.

"Need help?" He'd fished a cigar out of his pocket and was in the process of lighting it when the sound reached his ears.

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it." When they'd first started dating, when the HRT had started it had been a big...thing between them. Logan wanted to help, wanted to be in the room. His boyfriend wasn't too keen on it. It had taken a lot of long conversations and a therapist to get them to the point where if Logan asked if he could help, he was met with a yes.

He got up, food forgotten and took the syringe and filled it deftly. In less than a minute he'd finished the injection, smushed a bandaid onto the small point of blood and had his other half squarely in his lap, a mouth full of eggs and smoke circling the two of them in lazy swirls.