Fifteen minutes later, the car screeched to a halt at a scenic little park nestled in the heart of the county that bordered Westchester. Logan opened the door and got out in the same gracefully casual way as he'd entered the car. He leaned down and grabbed a bag from under the front seat, stuffing the six-pack (sans one) back into it. Then, he reached behind the seat and grabbled a duffle bag. This he tossed in Kurt's lap.

Kurt blinked at the 'gift' that landed on his lap. "What is this, Logan?" he asked curiously, poking at it.

"Open it and see," the short man replied matter-of-factly.

**Ach, I forget how he can be...* A blue hand reached to unzip the duffel. When it was opened, a blue eyebrow arched in surprise. "A sweatshirt and jeans?"

Logan shrugged. "Perceptive today, ain't ya? I didn't think you'd really want to lounge around in that...get-up." He pointedly gestured at the brown robes that clothed his fellow mutant. "And," he added, after a moment's pause, "I kinda figured it'd be cool so you'd need those."

That awkward butterfly seemed to flutter up in Kurt's chest again and he grinned sheepishly. "Danke. I'll be back in a bit." With that, he too got out of the car, though with considerably less fluid grace, and headed for the restroom facilities a short ways away.

While he was gone, Logan looked out over the green expanse. The brown, yellow and red leaves of the season where drifting around, making a dry carpet that spread across the landscape. The air was indeed cool and crisp and it made him shiver deliciously, filling him with the tingling feeling of life coursing through his veins. The park was completely deserted save for him.

Save for him, that is, and the blue form that was now heading back towards him. Crisp blue eyes turned to gaze at Kurt and Logan had to suppress the desire to laugh. Kurt looked, in one word, adorable. The cloths, Logan's own, were too big, though the jeans did hide Kurt's tail nicely, undoubtedly forming a strange bulge in the back. The sweatshirt swallowed him in folds of gray emblazened with the Xavier's School logo.

"Stop laughing," Kurt groused, obviously seeing the hint of mirth that quirked at Logan's lips.

"Wasn't laughing," Logan replied, turning so that his face couldn't be seen. "You look comfortable."

Kurt made a huffy noise and Logan heard the plop of robes as they were dropped back on the car seat.

"Y'know, ya might get lucky and not have to use yer image inducer at all," Logan said, turning the conversation from clothes. "Doesn't look like anyone else is out today."

Kurt contemplated his appearance for another moment, then shrugged it off. After all, it wasn't as if he was trying to impress anyone. Right? He drew up next to Logan, yellow eyes scanning the park. "Ach, well that is nice for once. I don't have to pretend I'm Erol Flynn."

Logan scanned the park a moment longer, then settled for a spreading oak about thirty feet away, situated on the crest of a sloping hill so that the valley below would be in view. He crossed the ground easily, leaves crinkling and snapping under his feet. Kurt moved more animatedly now, fairly bouncing across the park, his normal acrobatic grace returning to him.

"Ah, it is such perfect weather and I am out in it!" He exclaimed before disappearing in a *bamf* of smoke. He reappeared a moment later, stretched out on a tree limb.

"Shit, Kurt!" Logan exclaimed, stopping short and scowling. "Do you have to do that! The smell kills me!"

Kurt just stuck his tongue out playfully and clung to his branch.

Logan snorted at him and finally settled to the ground. "Yer not gettin' a burger just for that..." he growled, pulling a greasy paper bag out of the plastic one he was carrying.

Kurt immediately summersaulted to the ground and gave Logan a most piteous look. "Ach, nein! You wouldn't be so cruel!" Piercing yellow eyes peered at the bag on which was scrawled: Mikey's Melts - best burgers in Westchester. Kurt couldn't contain the pout that tugged at his lips. "I've waited all week for one of those, Logan!"

"Ya sound like Jubes when ya whine, Elf," Logan commented between great bites. "Doesn't become ya. 'Sides they're cold."

"Please? Please, mein freund? I won't teleport again, I swear I won't!" Kurt weedled, sneaking towards the paper bag.

Logan looked at him calmly and stuffed the last bite of his burger in his mouth. Then, he scooped the bag up with one hand and stood, the grace of the movement branding itself into Kurt even as his mouth watered for the forbidden food.

Suddenly, a wicked grin crossed Logan's features. "Yer gonna have to catch me first." And with that, he raced off, short legs carrying him swiftly away from the surprised Kurt.

It didn't take long for Kurt to take off after him, however, driven as he was by the burger prize. The two men crossed the park in swift strides, dodging each other, rolling and leaping, throwing up leaves in the process only to whirl back under the multi-hewed showers. Finally, Kurt made one last bound and tackled Logan. They rolled over and over on the ground before they came to a winded stop, Kurt on top.

Yellow eyes focused on the prize and a three-fingered hand snatched at the bag. Peering inside, a horrified look suddenly overshadowed a triumphant one. "Sheist! It's crushed!"

"Something else is gettin' crushed too..." a playful growl emminated from beneath him.

Kurt blinked, eyes moving from the bag to the face below. Wild blue eyes peered up at him from underneath wisps of wilder black hair. Kurt's breath caught in his throat and his mouth moved though he was unable to make a sound.

He was straddling Logan and the blood pounding in his veins sounded like a deafening roar. Logan was watching him calmly, though something mirthful was indeed dancing in those oh-so-blue eyes. A nagging, familiar sensation suddenly started to tingle through him and he immediately rolled off of the other man, a furious blush creeping over him in response to his traitorous body's arousal.

Logan didn't comment, only got to his feet and brushed himself off. A hand clamped to Kurt's shoulder as he headed back to where he'd left the beer. "Eat yer burger, Elf. You earned it."

Part 2

Kurt Wagner lay on his back on the hard cot, listening to the rain pouring outside of the monastery. The cool, dampness comforted him somewhat for his mind was raging hotly.

**The week's almost over, herr Wagner. Logan comes back in the morning to take you to the mansion...** A sigh slipped into the air as Kurt rolled onto his side. The mere thought of that made his heart leap with excitement and anticipation. His life had gotten much too complicated.

It wasn't enough that he was a mutant, an obvious one at that, or that he was an orphan. Now, he had to place another label on himself: gay.

Kurt rolled over on his stomach, unsatisfied and unable to sleep. The suspicion had been nagging at him for so long, he couldn't remember when he'd first felt the attraction to men. He'd covered it bravely with his romances with women, experiences that he'd never truly enjoyed, always feeling unfulfilled in those lazy hours after sex. He'd kept up his charming demeanor. In the last month or so, however, he'd been unable to deny it anymore. He'd even found himself blatantly staring at Pete Wisdom and remarking on that rogue's handsomness.

Kurt sighed again and rolled onto his other side, facing the wall. That's why he'd come here in the first place, to try, as crazy as it sounded, to pray his way out of this great sin. For a sin it was, Kurt was certain.

He's spent his second, and last, week in the monastery being particularly penitent to make up for the fiasco of the prior weekend.

**Fiasco! Mein Gott! He didn't even say anything about it!** Kurt reprimanded himself as he finally settled on his back again, heat flushing his face as he remembered just how turned-on he'd been. Logan hadn't said one word, not even a joke about it.

The truth was, he'd realized something that fateful day in the park, something he'd been hiding from for a long time. He was crazy about Logan. He was totally, hopelessly stricken with him. That explained the whole sidekick obsession, that explained the need to always be around him, the teasing, the going out to bars, all just to be close to that man. That man...that man and his unbelievably masculine frame..his so wild, so beautiful face...and those eyes, sharp and wild like a snowy wilderness, so foreboding yet so exciting at the same time...so tantalizing....

With a sharp, "Nein!" Kurt stopped the run of his thoughts. Then, he started reciting his prayers, determined to pray all night if it would keep him from desiring that man the next morning.

The prayers didn't seem to work. There he was, wearing an old fleece and jeans, cowboy boots on his feet. He wasn't wearing the hat, Kurt noted, but the fleece was enough. Kurt cursed softly under his breath at that thought. He clutched a bundle to him as he waved one last good-bye to the brothers who'd been so hospitable to him the past two weeks. He was wearing his own clothes now, a t-shirt and well-fitting jeans, but he carried the clothes he'd borrowed from Logan, dutifully scoured clean.

"You should put that sweatshirt back on, Elf, you'll catch yer death of cold out here in that flimsy thing you've got on," Logan remarked simply as they got into the car.

Kurt had to admit: he was cold. "Ja, madder," he said, dumping the jeans in the back seat and obediently slipping the sweatshirt over his head. The pink in his cheeks was of pleasure, though, not of cold.

Logan gave him a look-over. "I think ya might have lost weight...I'll have to tell Jean to fatten ya up on something more than bread and water."

Before Kurt could respond, the jeep roared to life and Logan tore out of the parking lot. Kurt could only hunker into his seat and pray they didn't crash, unable to sort out his tumultuous emotions.

Still, one thought nagged at him: Logan was worried. About him. And he was sure he was going to hell for being excited about that.

"Ja, Katjen. Ja! I told you, I'm fine!" Kurt couldn't keep the

irritation out of his voice. He was hanging upside down, swinging lightly back and forth, his tail clutched tightly to the kitchen fan. He shifted the portable phone to his other ear, a sigh of annoyance escaping him as Kitty went into another fit of scolding over why he hadn't called in two weeks.

"I am fine, Kitty. I just wanted to be away from everything for a while. That's why I didn't call!," he emphasized again, voice taking on a steely note. Just then, the light scuffing of boots made him look straight ahead...right at Logan's crotch.

He lost all control of his muscles at that and fell to the ground with a rather ungainly splat. He managed to land on his shoulder instead of his head, but the impact still jarred him and he let out a string of Germanic curses. The female voice on the phone, the phone that had skidded a few feet away as a result of the fall, started shrilling louder.

Logan bent down and picked up the portable. "Kitty? ... Hey, pumpkin. ... Yeah, I'm fine. You? ... Oh, he's fine, he just fell. ... Yeah, the fan. ... Don't ask me. ... Love you too. Here's Kurt."

"Better watch that coordination thing, Elf," Logan said, his voice gratingly teasing to Kurt's ears as he finally eased himself into a sitting position. Rubbing his shoulder, he took the phone back, giving Logan a scowl in the process.

Logan leaned back against the kitchen cabinet while Kurt finished his conversation.

"Stuff it Kitty, I'm fine. ... Ja, I said stuff it. ... It's one of Jubilee's phrases. ... Ja, ja, I'll see you tomorrow. ... I won't break anything, I promise. ... Isn't Moira supposed to be the bitchy mother, Katjen? ... Fine, I love you too." Then, silence descended. It was obvious that Kitty Pryde had not hung up for Kurt's head was cocked as if listening. He looked over at Logan hesitantly after a moment. Then, the voice audibly raised again. "Shiest! I heard you the first time Kitty! ... A hug and a kiss. ... Ja, ja, I'll do it. ... Stop nagging me, woman! I'll see you tomorrow!" And with that, he pulled the phone away and hung up.

"She gets more charming every year, doesn't she?" Logan commented with obvious fondness.

"Charming was not the word I would have picked, mein fruend," Kurt said, eyeing Logan. "You should try living with her now that she's miss high-and-mighty grown-up."

"She still dating that dick?"

"You mean Pete, I assume? I think they're on the rocks again."

Logan snorted. Kurt deduced that this particular snort was a happy one. Then, blue eyes focused on him. Kurt blinked, felt his mouth go dry.

Logan stared at him for a long moment before smirking slightly. "So?"

"So what?" Kurt managed, lamely.

"I think you agreed to give someone a hug and a kiss if I ain't mistaken."

"How do you know she was talking about you?"

"Who else would Kitty want to give a hug and a kiss too?"

Kurt cocked his head at that, eyes narrowing in thought. Then he brightened. "Ororo. Definitely Ororo."

Logan pointed to the phone in Kurt's hand. "Ya know, if I call her back and tell her you won't do it, tomorrow ain't going to be a pretty sight."

"All right, all right. Ach, You're as bad as she is..."

Kurt was trying to sound brave, but his entire body felt like it was draining of moisture. **Why is he pushing this?** He thought, desperately. Then, stiffly and with obvious nervousness he crossed the kitchen to stand in front of Logan. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and gave the man a hug. When Logan's arms surrounded him in reply, he stopped breathing.

The warmth felt like it was seeping from Logan into the ground, then out of the ground and into his body, the entire kitchen suddenly suffused with the warmth of the other man. Kurt's eyes shut, the seared darkness of his inner eyelids swimming with red. His heart felt like it was going to hammer its way out of his chest as he inhaled the sharp, spiced scent of Logan's flannel shirt.

Then, the arms loosened. He stepped back, breath caught hopelessly in his throat. Logan was watching him, his face inscrutable. Kurt desperately wondered if there was any excuse he could come up with to explain why he was so flustered. Even as the thought lilted through his mind, he knew that it was too late. Logan could smell him.

Still not saying a word, Logan lifted a hand. A hint of a smile graced his lips as he pointed, quite distinctly, at his cheek.

Kurt blinked again and almost burst out laughing. **He still wants me to kiss him! He still wants me to kiss him!** The catholic schoolgirls inside his head were having a raucous, giggling slumber-party fit at this and his stomach knotted in excitement. But, he leaned forward before he could lose his courage and brought blue lips to Logan's cheek.

It was soft, he realized in surprise, soft with a brush of stubbled hair. That sharp, spiced odor flooded him again. This time, however, he pulled away quickly lest his excitement become too much.

They stood there, watching each other, only a few inches apart. The knot that had been excitement was already hardening into fear for Kurt, fear mixed with guilt.

**And they shall stone them...** The passage, devoid of line or book yet unmistakably scriptural, filled his mind. He stepped back.

Logan's face didn't register surprise. He gave an imperceptible nod and turned to leave the kitchen.

Kurt's voice came out, far too high for his liking. "Wh-where are you going?"

Logan looked back at him. "To the lounge. Jean and Bobby where in there earlier. You can come if ya like."

Kurt followed quietly. His mind was roiling, yet blank at the same time.

**Is Logan encouraging me? I don't understand! Oh, Mein Gott, how can you condemn me for this? Sweet Mary...it feels so right...**

Part 3

"He asked me to help him get in touch with his feminine side," Jean explained, looking for all the world like she wanted to pat Bobby on the head. The blond-haired man was seated next to her, eagerly reading the liner notes to several CDs, all of which were stacked on top of the stereo.

Remy was relaxing next to him, one leg thrown indolently over the side of the couch. "Does it sound as stupid t'you as it does t'me, hommes?" he drawled out, the patient smile on his lips already leaning towards over-taxed.

Logan peered at the CDs, naming them aloud as he read them. "Sarah McLachlan...Jewel...Sheryl Crow…Alanis Morissette? Shit, didn't know listened to that bitch, Jeanie... Joni Mitchell...Tori Amos...Ani DiFranco? Fucking spare me..." He looked at the redhead. "You actually paid money for all of this shit?"

Jean frowned at him. "Despite what you think, Logan, I actually have decent taste in music. And, for your information, the Alanis Morissette is Rogue's. I just borrowed it from her."

"Ani DiFranco's good," Kurt chimed in. All eyes immediately focused on him. He coughed, feeling the heat creep into his face. "Ach, Kitty owns it. She plays it all the time. It kind of grew on me."

Logan snorted in amusement and Kurt blushed more at the spark those blue eyes directed his way.

No one else seemed to catch it and Jean smiled at him, happily. "Thank you Kurt. At least some people here appreciate good music. You'll probably like this." She angled the remote at the stereo and clicked a button. Ignoring Logan, she looked at Bobby. "Now, Bobby, this is a particularly beautiful song so I want you to listen closely..."

Remy leaned back against the couch with a low moan as the guitar started playing, a woman's voice joining in moments later. Bobby's hand immediately slapped him on the thigh. "You're not being very supportive," he accusingly addressed his lover.

Remy threw up his hands in protest. "Shoot me fo' not liking the chick musique, cher!"

Bobby gave him another disgruntled look. As soon as he noticed Jean scowling at him, however, he obediently turned back to the music.

I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time you told me, you said,
"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine
'Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
Still, I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

During the song, Kurt found his eyes focusing only on one thing: Logan. The short man was leaning against the stereo, obviously listening attentively. Kurt watched as his eyes closed lightly, fingers tapping the rhythm. He stood there, so effortlessly easy with himself, so beautiful...and so unafraid.

The song ended. Remy groaned again. Ignoring him, Bobby spoke up, "Joni Mitchell, right?"

Jean gave him an impromptu hug, almost squealing in delight. "You're learning so quick, Bobby! That's from her 'Blue' album. It's one of my favorites."

"She's not half bad," Logan admitted.

Remy's eys flew open and he gaped at Logan in horror. "Don' tell me you're on dere side, mon ami?" He frantically looked at Kurt.

Kurt shrugged and grinned toothily. "Sorry, mein freund, but I liked it too."

A hand slapped against the Cajun's forehead. "I can believe this...putain merde...."

"My, ain't we got a dirty mouth, LeBeau?" Logan said with a short laugh.

Remy's eyes narrowed. "Since when you understand French, mon serval?"

"I just know the basics," Logan assured him.

"Sale pute," Remy shot back, taunting.

"Same ta you. I didn't think your boy liked it that way, though."

At that, Bobby's head swiveled sharply in Logan's direction. The hint of a blush was already in his face. "What are you talking about?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Your boyfriend just called me a dirty fuck. I said same to him, though I didn't think that was your style, Drake."

Bobby flushed beet red. His mouth opened in protest though he was unable to stammer out anything even remotely coherent.

"Hey, you leave him outta dis," Remy said, frowning.

"You two really don't take jokes very well, do you?" Logan said, sighing lightly.

Jean just seemed amused by the whole thing. Still, she raised one hand imperatively. "Do you people have to be so rude. We have a guest, you know."

Once again, all eyes swiveled to rest on Kurt. He squirmed a bit uneasily. The conversation was already making him uncomfortable. "Ach, nein, don't bother with me. I'm just a fly on the wall." As if to make his point, he leapt effortlessly to the wall, toes catching the windowsill, fingers digging into tiny grooves in the plaster.

Logan laughed at him with obvious mirth. "Kurt's old school Jeanie. He's got the balls for this."

"And you would know?" Remy asked devilishly.

Kurt almost fell off the wall, his second mishap of the evening. Miraculously he kept his grip but pretended to be obsessed with the grains of paint. "Lovely color," he muttered beneath his breath.

Logan made a somewhat amused grunting sound. "You always this immature, Cajun?"

Remy smiled sweetly, batting his eyebrows at the Canadian. "Oh, always. That's why he loves me." He nudged Bobby in the ribs. "Vrai, cher?"

Bobby looked at him speculatively. Then, he turned back to Jean. "So, anyways, do you know who she wrote this for? It's so sweet."

Remy's voice raised a notch. "Cher?!"

Logan took the opportunity to sneak off. The trio didn't notice his departure from the stereo. He motioned at Kurt to follow.

Kurt slid soundlessly to the ground, his face finally reverting to its normal blue. With a last glance at Jean and the lovers next to her, he followed Logan out.

Part 4

"You really need to drink better beer, Logan," Kurt said, a look very akin to disgust crossing his furry features as he took a sip of his Shlitz.

"If you're gonna complain, I'm not givin' you another one," Logan growled back.

They sat on the porch, the still night spreading overhead and all around. A chill was in the air but crickets could still be heard weaving their songs in the bushes. The wind whickered against the trees, dry lives whistling.

Kurt quickly took a large swig. "Nein, I never refuse free beer." Then, he puckered his lips around the cigar Logan had given him. He'd never acclimated to smoking and the taste of tobacco was alien to him. Still, the smell of it was somewhat appealing. The sharpness of Logan's scent was full in the smell of the smoke and Kurt found that he couldn't get enough of it.

Logan arched an eyebrow at him. "Stop complaining then," he retorted back. The tape that had been playing softly in the boombox next to him clicked off. He reached over and flipped the tape, turning the volume up.

Kurt narrowed his eyes at the device. Jubilee's name was scrawled across it in about fifteen different places in various different marker colors as well as in white out. "Ach, don't you think Jubilee will miss that?"

Logan shrugged. "It's her fault for leaving it out here. She'll get it back tomorrow."

Baby, let me follow you down,
Baby, let me follow you down,
Well, I'd do anything in this god-almighty world
If you'd just let me follow you down.

Bob Dylan wailed out the words, his harmonica picking up the tune and crying it out when his voice fell silent.

Kurt cocked his head, yellow eyes focusing on Logan. "I didn't know you listened to Dylan."

Logan looked back at him. "There's plenty of things you don't know about me, Kurt." The words came out clipped, harsh sounding.

Kurt's eyes widened in surprise at the frankness of that sudden statement. After a moment, he nodded, "Ach, I'm sure that's true."

Logan looked out over the lawn, silent again as the harmonica on the tape kept up its wail. Kurt stared at the side of his face, the deep shadows pooling in his cheekbones. He idly noted that his cigar was burning away, but he didn't lift it to his lips again.

It was Logan who broke the silence. "When did you decide you're gay?"

The words fell from the air like thick meteorites, each one landing on Kurt's chest. He felt his lungs tighten, his mouth moved, nothing came out. **When did you decide you're gay?** not **Are you gay?** These thoughts were followed swiftly by **He knows! He knows! Oh, Mein Gott, he's known all along!**

As if in reply, Logan narrowed sharp blue eyes on him. "Don't freak out, Kurt. I could smell it on you."

Kurt's lips twisted into a bizarre smile despite his churning insides. "You can smell gay people?"

That elicited a laugh from his short companion. "Very funny, Elf. You never lose that sense of humor, do ya? You know what I mean...that day in the park. And today in the kitchen."

Logan's bluntness resulted in an embarrassed blush that seemed to spread throughout Kurt's body, making him very certain that he was turning pink from head to toe. "Ja," he finally breathed out, "Ja, Logan, I'm gay. I...I've known it for a long time."

Logan nodded, once. "And that's why you went in the monastery?"

Kurt's head snapped around in surprise, eyes wide on Logan.

Logan just shrugged. "It kinda makes sense...in a sick way."

A frown tugged at Kurt's lips and he suddenly understood that expression about raising hackles. The glib statement seemed to root itself irritatingly underneath his skin. Forcing himself to speak slowly, he repeated what Logan had said, "In a...sick way?"

"You heard me right. In a sick way. I know you, Kurt. You've got this big scary god hanging over you screaming that you're going to hell because you're attracted to men. Am I right?"

Kurt stiffened. "Let's not talk about my religion. Danke."

He looked away, suddenly very interested in the cigar that had burned almost to his fingers, the thick mass of ash clinging stubbornly to the unburned part. He vaguely registered Logan's form walking past him to go stand at the railing. Slowly, Kurt raised yellow eyes and peered at him. Logan was standing straight, head cocked as though listening to something far in the distance.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, unable to help himself.

Logan didn't turn around as he replied, "The horses."

Kurt's brow furrowed. Horses? Ah, yes, the horses that Xavier kept. "Are they okay?"

Logan still didn't turn around. "They're fine. They just get lonely at twilight. I usually go visit them because I can't concentrate on anything else until they stop crying."

That strange little butterfly of affection started dancing inside of him and Kurt felt a twinge of distinct emotion for such a thoughtful action. "You should go see them tonight, then."

Finally, Logan turned, those clear bright eyes of his pinning Kurt. "Come with me."

It was more of a command than a request and Kurt found himself rising to his feet in compliance. Slowly, they made their way off the porch, bodies still held warily. The crickets sang louder as Bob Dylan receded into the distance and they moved haltingly, neither speaking, towards the stable, a black square object visible in the last light of day, the sun curving down onto the horizon like a lover being welcomed home.

Part 5

The black mare whickered happily, pressing her nose into Logan's hand. He stroked her muzzle lightly as he made soft, comforting clicking songs.

Kurt was occupied with a dappled gray stallion. "What are their names, Logan?"

"This one's Midnight and that's Smoke."

Kurt couldn't contain the laughter that escaped him.

Logan looked at him, a smile quirking his lips. "Stuff it, Elf, to quote you quoting Jubilee. I didn't name 'em."

"Charles needs to get more creative," Kurt commented.

"Actually, I think it was 'Yana who named these two," Logan replied, his voice softer.

Kurt ah'd. Illyana. Pretty little Illyana. "Then the names are perfect," he decided, stroking the horse's velvety soft cheek. The stallion snorted, blowing warm air into his face. Kurt smiled.

"See, he agrees."

Midnight seemed to be content with her attention, so Logan moved to where Kurt was, eyes carefully locked on the gray horse. He reached a hand out and Smoke turned from Kurt to nuzzle the more familiar hand.

"You're not doing anything wrong," Logan finally said, voice still soft. "It's just who you are."

Kurt felt himself stiffen again. "Ah...danke, Logan. Really. I thank you for that. I just don't believe it."

Those blue eyes, so startlingly blue in that worn face, came back to rest on the blue-furred mutant. "Sex is sex. Love is love. Why does it matter who you do it with or feel it for. You can't control it..."

Kurt swallowed, hard. "But, the Bible says..."

Suddenly, Logan was right against him, their bodies so close that Kurt could feel the shivers of breath that ran through the other man's frame. "I don't give a damn what the Bible says. What I feel is what I feel."

Kurt shivered. "Logan...."

Those maddening lips twitched. "What? You're attracted to me, Kurt. I can feel it. And I ain't gonna deny that I'm attracted to you. I'm sick of playin games, so lets just get it all out there. I've loved you as a friend for years, don't see why can't we take that further. I'm getting damned sick of being alone, myself."

Kurt was breathing hard in disbelief, almost incapable of gathering thought with Logan so close. "But...but, nein, Logan...what will everyone say?"

"I don't care," Logan purred, pressing in impossibly closer. He raised one hand to cup Kurt's chin, his thumb rubbing against that soft fur, gently caressing.

Kurt's eyes fluttered shut in pleasure. "Logan..." He felt the first hint of hot breath so close to his lips and he thought that he would go mad.

"What?"

Suddenly, God was gone. The world was gone. There was only Logan and there was only him and there was only, "Kiss me."

A short bark of laughter like fire in his ears. "That's what I've been trying to do. You just won't shut up and let me."

But, there it was, so sudden: lips like sweet flames against his. Tasting so bitter and so sweet. The roughness of a searing kiss, the softness of it. And so tender. So unbelievably tender. He could feel Logan's mouth pressing, asking and he felt his open in response. A shock of electric honey ran through him with the first touch of tongue and he was lost, so hopelessly lost as strong arms encircled his slim waist.

**It's almost like praying...like kneeling in prayer to something larger than yourself...oh, Logan...**

Kurt almost cried when the kiss broke off, leaning into Logan with more longing than he'd ever felt before.

Eyes fluttered open and there was that incredible blue against his yellow. Logan kissed him again, seeming to forget why he'd broken off in the first place (if not for air). Their bodies pressed together, hands grasping at backs and necks, pulling and pressing into each other. A trail of fire arched along Kurt's chin to his ear as Logan nibbled the sensitive skin.

A sudden, ragged moan split the air and it took Kurt a moment to realize that it was his mouth that had uttered it.

Suddenly, they were moving further into the barn. Then there was a ladder. Kurt barely registered this, intent as he was on keeping hands on Logan's frame. And from somewhere in the hayloft, a blanket was produced.

Kurt felt himself being pressed back into the cushioning grain and he reached out shyly yet determinedly. Then all there was was Logan. The smell of Logan. The taste of Logan. The hallelujah, amen of Logan. Hot skin branded against him. Hot lips melting into him. And a maddening voice growling into his ear... "Just like peaches. The fuzzier the better..." The hardness of his body. The softness of his hands. And some impossibly sharp explosion of light in the stillness, in the darkness, among the hay and the sweat and the moans.

Then, panted silence - a sharp intake of breath.

Epilogue

A lazy finger traced its way across a furry blue thigh, a mouth leaned to capture a furry blue shoulder. The gray light of earliest morning filtered its way into the hayloft, trailing sepia toned patterns across two naked forms.

Kurt stirred slowly at the caresses, mouth moving wordlessly. Warm lips pressed to his forehead and his eyes finally opened. There, in the darkness, stark, shocking blue wordlessly watched him.

"Logan?"

"Morning, darlin'."

Kurt swallowed, said nothing else. He heard a rumbling sigh echo through the barn, the chest that cushioned him rising and falling with it. He stretched slightly, sore muscles complaining and his tail flicked lightly, raising a cloud of hay dust when it came down.

A playful hand reached around and grabbed at it. "Unless you tell me what's wrong, you're not gettin this back."

Kurt smiled sleepily. "Ach, then you'd just have to follow me around, holding onto it..." then, hesitantly "Liebschen."

A mouth found his in answer.

Still, he couldn't help it. He had to ask. "Are...are you so..."

A finger pressed to his lips cut him off. "Don't say it, Kurt. I was perfectly willing. I ain't got any regrets."

"You...you've been with men before haven't you..." he ventured, next, the heat instantly creeping into his cheeks.

In the dim light, he could distinctly make out Logan's smirk. "You could tell because I was that good, right?"

Kurt punched him in the shoulder. "No one here has an ego, nein..."

Logan caressed his cheek lightly. "I told you there was a lot about me you didn't know."

Kurt nodded. Still, a pressure weighed him. What to do now? What to do with himself now that it was certain: he was gay. He had slept with a man. He knew Logan in the strictest sense. And he wanted him possessively.

Now it was Logan's turn to stretch. "You know, I don't really like my lovers to brood after sex..."

Kurt's breath caught. Lover.

Logan trailed fingers down his arm, obviously delighting in the feel of fur. Kurt sighed happily in response.

"I know you've gotta lot to think about, darlin', but lets just be here. Now. Kitty'll be here this afternoon, you know."

Kurt sighed. "Ja. Don't remind me."

Logan kissed his nose. "I just did."

Kurt snuggled into the warmth of that body, trying to push all other thought from his mind. One stubborn thought refused to leave, however. Kurt's stomach gurgled, giving that thought away.

"I'm hungry," he finally said, confirming his stomach's mutterings.

Logan drew a hand over that flat, furred belly. "So I see."

"We have time for breakfast, nein?"

"Ja," Logan grinned, mimicking Kurt. "After all, it's some unholy hour of the morning. I doubt Kitty'll get her till one."

Kurt nodded, seemingly satisfied.

The body next to him moved slowly, until Logan was propped up leaning over him. Lips came down to meet lips, then pulled back. Kurt smiled.

"You know what I want to eat?"

A blue eyebrow arched questioningly. "Enlighten me, Liebschen."

Blue eyes sparked, lips quirked, and a husky voice purred out one word.

"Peaches."