FIC: X-Men - Candlelight and Hope

[fajrdrako_fic]

Title: Candlelight and Hope
Author: fajrdrako
Fandom: X-Men
Genre: Slash
Characters: Nightcrawler/Wolverine
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no claims, all property of Warner/DC.
Note: This ficlet was written for one of oxoniensis's porn battles at her LJ site.


Candlelight and Hope

Kurt crouched in the shadows far above the nave. There were a few dim lights at the exits; candles glowed below. "God," he whispered, "Forgive me for my sins. Forgive me for my faintness of heart."

There were no sounds in the huge, empty church. He could hear his own heart beating. He could hear the tip of his tail, tapping against the crossbeam where he squatted. He was a gargoyle among the angels; a creature of darkness hidden in this place of light.

But the lights were below, and he was above. "God, help me find the courage to tell Logan how I feel. Bring his love to me. If ever my devotion meant anything... if ever human love could be graced by the divine..." He lay back on the narrow crossbeam, his feet against the pediment over his head. An acrobat's pose.

Love must have a purpose as well as an object. Kurt closed his eyes, thinking of the muscles of Logan's back, the power in his thighs. He'd never seen a person so physically powerful, so unselfconscious in the grace with which he used his limbs, so limber and so strong. Like an animal, yes, but still with such a powerful soul and force of personality that it was that which made Kurt weak with desire. He had seen Logan in rage and he could only imagine him in the force of his lust; the sheer biochemical impact of almost a hundred kilos of sexual vigour.

There was no one like him, and Kurt could not imagine wanting any other man.

"Holy mother of God, who understands love, let me have him and I'll ask nothing else...."

Was that a promise he could keep?

"Only just once, even that..."

He closed his eyes, imagining Logan's kiss, the kiss he had not yet sampled. He imagined Logan’s taste, the growl of his laughter as Kurt kissed him back. He imagined undressing Logan - undressing him from his X-Men uniform, undressing him from the motorcyclist's leathers, undressing him from that ratty terrycloth dressing gown he sometimes wore, undressing him to be revealed as he was: naked, hairy, compact, and so very strong....

The soft snikt of metal, retracting into corded arms.

The flare of his nostrils when catching a scent, any scent, Kurt's scent. Soft blue fur touching hairy bare arms. Kissing the soft skin on the inside of his elbow. Tracing with lips the line of bone where adamantium disappeared into wide hands. Licking his neck, thick with muscle and preternaturally sensitive. Touching his cock, so thick and glorious. Perhaps even sucking it, knowing its heat and smoothness.

Kurt shuddered. Oh, yes. He wanted to be fucked by Wolverine, the strongest, toughest, best mutant of them all. Too smart to die, too old for innocence, with a heart as warm as any and a hide so tough no one could break him. Kurt wanted Wolverine to thrust into him with all that might and power, over and over, on and on, until there was nothing else in his world but Logan, and love, and lust, and belonging.

After a while he realized he was getting cold in the church. It must be very late. He dropped down into the nave, his feet padding soundlessly on the floor to the altar. He crossed himself, looking with respect at the figures of religious suffering and devotion, the stations of the cross - what mutant could fail to be moved by that? - and the symbols of earthly and divine love.

"Dear God, I know I am not worthy," he murmured. "But I beg you to have pity, and bring him to me in love."

The huge empty church made no answer.