"Please, Herr Logan."
"No! I don't want to. It would feel so…iwrong."/i
Kurt laughed. "You have no problem in having…wie heisst…irelations/i, in the most awkward and inconvenient of places, but you won't do this one little thing for me. I'm sure you've carved plenty in your time with those…knives in your hands."
"Yeah, but I don't want to hurt you."
"Hurt me? Mein liebster, have you heard the word bittersweet before? It hurts every time you do what you like to, to me, but it's good also. This will be like that, do you understand?"
"I guess, but it's different."
"Nein. No it isn't. I must be punished for my sins. But it makes me feel good, redemption."
"Kurt. Kid. Why do you need to punish yourself? It's not a sin. There probably isn't even a God up there!" Logan was getting slightly angry; he didn't like to be argued with. Kurt's eyes showed a flicker of hurt.
"When you say things like that I wonder why I stay with you. I feel it is a sin, what we do. I haven't said I'm going to stop; I just need to be reminded of my sin. Punished."
"I'll punish you all right, when the Boy Scout and his kids have gone to bed."
"Be serious Logan. Please. I need this. It sounds mad, cutting myself, but it stops me from igoing/i mad. You like my patterns. I do, too. I've never regretted any of my decorations. They remind me of the sin, they remind me I am a bad man, but they remind me of the good times too. The good sins."
"You're not a bad man Kurt. You're one of the best people I know, the kindest, most loving, forgiving person I know. My favourite. I love you, kid."
"Then do as I ask of you, Herr Logan." Kurt took Logan's hand in one of his own, and stroked the knuckles, as if enticing the lethal blades out.
"No!"
"Why?"
Logan thought for a moment. "Fine then, but if it hurts don't look for sympathy. Or if it gets infected."
"Thank you, Logan." Logan flicked his claws out, the blades glinting in the half moonlight coming from Logan's bedroom window.
"The bathroom. I don't want blood all over."
"As you ask." Kurt wandered to the en suite and pulled off his loose cotton shirt. "On my stomach, bitte. And be careful. Don't stab too hard."
"Look, you just move my hands; I'm just a tool for this okay? I want as little to do with deliberately hurting you as possible."
"Gute Idee, mein liebster."
"You and your fucking German," Logan growled.
"Excuse me, but it's my native language. I'm just trying to get you used to it. I want to share everything with you. I actually said 'good idea, my lover'. It sounds better in German." Kurt took Logan's hand again, and pulled one blade so it was just stroking his stomach, not even pressing it on hard enough to cut the skin. He rolled his eyes in a very private pleasure and breathed out slowly.
"Stop it Kid, the suspense is killing me."
"Perhaps now you will know how I feel when you tease me? Feel it iwith/i me, you might even enjoy it." Kurt took Logan's other hand, which did not have sharp metal blades sprouting from the knuckles, and guided Logan's fingers across his stomach and chest, away from the claws resting just above the waistband of his baggy trousers. Logan shook Kurt's hand from the top of his and stroked the soft fur on Kurt's chest by himself. Kurt took the hand with the single blade out in both of his, and moved it in a strange rhythm, pushing Logan's blade on to his skin deep enough just to cut, but still pressing so lightly that there was no blood, just a dent, an outline, a pattern to follow. The design was beautiful. Symbols and swirls, like the other scars that decorated Kurt's body. But this one was different. Kurt seemed to be taking much more care in the delicacy of the pattern, and it was more complicated and elaborate than most of the others. Neither of them knew how long they were there, tracing out the lines; Kurt was paying attention to nothing but the precision, and Logan was lost in the feel of Kurt's skin under his fingers, and in a strange fascination in what Kurt was doing. Finally the lines were complete and Kurt broke the silence. "What do you think? I mean, it isn't finished but…"
"It's beautiful. Like the rest of you." Logan was on his knees, looking at the pattern closely. He was having a hard time resisting the temptation to just rip Kurt's trousers into shreds and fuck him dry, right there on the bathroom floor. He was getting strangely aroused at the thought of Kurt curling his hands into fists, or clawing at the floor because it would hurt him. Logan wanted to be rough. He almost iwanted/i to hurt his lover. Obviously not iseriously,/i but enough to make him not forget in a hurry. Maybe that was why he had eventually agreed to cutting Kurt.
Kurt seemed to sense this. "Maybe later, mein liebster, but bitte, just concentrate on this for now." Logan nodded, dragging his eyes back to the purplish-indigo of Kurt's stomach. Kurt still held Logan's claw, and he suddenly pressed it into his stomach, so quickly and violently, that Logan almost yelled for him and jerked his hand back. But he didn't. Kurt held on too firmly. But Logan felt as well as heard the sharp intake of breath as Kurt felt the pain, and the tensing of virtually all of Kurt's muscles. But then Kurt dragged the blade along the lines he had made, as carefully as he had traced them. There was a lot of blood; it dripped down his stomach, into his underwear, and Kurt was getting more and more excited, feeling it on his bare skin, where it was sensitive, and he felt the pain, sharp and dull at the same time, redemption from the sin that it was also creating. Kurt breathed slowly, savouring the mixed emotions, and the cool, sharp smoothness of the blade. It was all Logan could do not to follow his previous thoughts, seeing Kurt's blood, startlingly dark against his skin. He moved to wipe it away, but Kurt stopped him. "iNein"/i he breathed softly; dragging the knife across the lines. They both slipped into the half trance again, feeling part of each other. Near the end, tears dripped down Kurt's cheeks, but he didn't try to wipe them away. He let them fall and match paths with the blood almost. Finally it was over, and there was a new pattern on the Nightcrawler, not raised and dark like the healed scar designs, but shining and wet, but so ireal./i Logan admired his dedication; he almost felt the cut being carved. He felt and saw how much it hurt. But it was obscenely beautiful. Logan let his animal nature show a little, and licked at the blood with his rough tongue. "Ja Logan, it's your turn," Kurt breathed, curling his toes at Logan's advances.
Logan didn't need any encouragement. He tore Kurt's remaining clothes into shreds and licked the drying blood from his lower stomach and thighs. Kurt sighed in ecstasy, like he had when the cuts were being made. Then Logan did what he had fantasised, he turned Kurt around and roughly forced himself inside him, no preparation. Kurt gasped in pain; it hurt more than even his first time, which had been with Logan. His feet scrabbled on the smooth, tiled floor, and Logan hooked Kurt's knees over his own shoulders. He leaned forward, across Kurt's back, and whispered in his ear, "I'm sorry Kurt, I'm so sorry, but when you make me do that…it takes me…your blood. I don't want to hurt you too much…"
Kurt pushed himself up on the floor, with Logan still pushing into him, and whispered back: "It's okay, mein liebster. I know the feeling." He groaned again slightly at the pain. "I just want to be with you…"
Then it was over, Kurt running the bath to clean his skin of various bodily fluids, and Logan heading back into the room to sleep, easing his aching wrists.