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There was only so much shit a man could take before he got involved. Only so many punches their body could endure. And for Logan, that threshold was unbearably low.
He wasn't a man to sit idle while someone spoke ill of his kind, nor was he a gentleman about it either. The half-drunken beer bottle in his hand creaked to the increase of pressure he exerted on it, ready to split if he rounded his clenched fist tighter.
He hadn't planned on starting a fight, especially with Morph right next to him trying to keep him grounded, but hearing the snide all-too-loud remarks bleated across the pool table behind them at how disgusting alphas were, there was little tethering Logan back.
It was a loud conversation for three men to be having in the mid afternoon. Logan's ears burned in anger, his jaw cranking side to side in withheld agitation. He was restless, riled up by it. Logan took a deeper swig of his bottle. Their collective laugh sickened him.
They were still playing pool while engaging in one of the most vile conversations Logan had heard in his life. One of the pool balls hit the bank and clinked against another. A groan came out at the result. "All I'm saying is that I ain't gonna be heckled by some macho alpha, that's all."
A snigger followed and fabric shifted. One of them were lifting up their arms. "I ain't gonna give the fucker a chance. Got Rosalita here," he pat something metal. Logan could tell it was a gun. "She hasn't missed since I bought her."
A second passed and another ball sunk itself in. Glass bottles rattled in short-lived victory. "Didn't she miss your ex-wife?" A booming laugh roared at his attempted manslaughter.
"Eh, she may've pissed me off by taking the house 'n kids, but she's still 'uman. My undefeated record goes to 'em mutties. Swarming around our society, like some new-age plague. Fuck 'em."
That was one step too far. Logan arched his back in his seat, ready to pounce. But before he could, Morph tried one last time to quell his mood.
Their shoulders tensed at the vulgarity behind them, sinking one hand to find Logan's spare. It was a sweet moment, with them locking their buzzing fingers together underneath the darkened bench. Morph was warm, bubbled up from their drink. Though nothing beat Logan's raging head, ready to explode in his anger.
A worried look flittered in Morph's cautious eyes when the bartender turned away towards the back, begging Logan to reconsider.
In any other situation, he would. But this was too disgusting to let slide. If he let the riff-raff off by turning a blind eye to their hate speech, then he was no better than the ones who shouted hate. Logan always strived to do good by Charles Xavier's standards. Always to look out for the little guy. Even if his dear Charles couldn't fully wrap his head around the new wave of alpha and omega mutants.
Only Morph and him presented as such. Both alphas. Both no different than the rest. Always the underdogs.
"Please, just leave them, we're having a good time, right?" Morph leaned their head closer to Logan's shoulder, sighing and resting it for a brief moment. "Remember when we ruined that little spot by the century tree..." they described a moment where Logan had chased them around the yard, catching them like a beast and rolled on the grass with them. How Morph had grass stains on their skin in the loose fitting tank, the colour matching an off-green Hulk. The small inches of comfort were the best they could accomplish when out of the estate.
Logan tried to smile but couldn't. His head was elsewhere. The cackles drew louder, with more beer being opened. Being drunk was no excuse to talk like that.
It was easier to deal with the other X-Men's eyerolling, than whatever this waste of breath was. Getting the occasional 'get a room' light-hearted joke shouted at them was paradise compared to their self induced hell. He had picked the place, loving the local imports of alcohol from Canada, but knowing such scum was allowed in too, soured his palate.
"I can't. You know that Morphy, I ain't gonna just sit here while he insults us two-fold. It just ain't right, babe." Logan huffed under his breath, gritting his teeth tight. The hairs past his ears fluffed up the further their sickening laughs blasted the surroundings.
"Then how about we leave? We can take half the stuff and shoot the shit in the parking lot. Won't be the first time," their words drifted off, reminding Logan of the times they had to be escorted out when his claws had surfaced out of his clenched fists. It wasn't always his fault he was a hot-headed asshole.
Assholes like them always provoked the just.
Logan shook his head lowly, unkempt hair flying in all directions. They had every right to be there, though he figured they would be kicked out in a few anyways. He kept one ear to the floor, the other to Morph, enjoying their light humming; a nervous habit.
The conversation had moved onto something else, yet every so often one of the trio would fling out an insult about them. "Yeah, so how's that bitch you hooked up with last week, Jasper? She one of us, or did she unleash her weird powers on you?"
"Didn't work out. Said I was too rough the first time 'round. Dunno what that was about. All I did was slap her a few times. Thought bitches liked that?" He paused and took his turn and then swore under his breath. Logan craned his eyes around. The eight-ball had fallen in, nulling his chances of victory. "Fuck, I ain't paying you... best two out of three?"
Men gruffed at each other, agreeing to more games. Logan grimaced.
"You really beat the shit out of her while dicking her down, huh?" One asked.
"Nah, mate. I had to check she wasn't one of them. Omegas, I'm told, moan when you pulverise them. And if it wasn't one of those kind of mutties, then the other kind would just take the blows without bruisin'. She was fucking fine, crying like I wanted." They sounded too happy at their discovery, simmering for another session. Yet sexual abuse was still abuse.
Logan cringed. Morph's leg trembled to the unsettling confession.
Morph tried to comfort their partner, though the attempt was slipping. Logan was getting lost in his head, fighting with himself till he had enough. It was sudden, like a pin dropping. He didn't bother introducing himself. The trash men didn't deserve to know who he was. All they deserved was to get acquainted with his claws.
If they got kicked out, then so be it. No place was worth drinking at if shit-heads like this were a dime a dozen. His stool screeched against the wood harshly and he rounded the pool table in a few steps, lunging forward. A unexpected gasp rose from their lips.
Logan's fist clammed down against one of their shirts, lifting them an inch above the floor. The pool cue fell, rattling underneath the table. Logan had a deathly glare, his eyes tiny slits, cutting away the bullshit. Without their insults, these guys were just disgusting pigs.
"I happen to overhear your little fucking conquest, an I gotta say bub, I ain't appreciating one word from your filthy mouth." Logan growled, venom showing in his narrowed eyes. It was one step away from his claws flourishing out from his knuckles.
"Oh yeah!? Did I offend your feelies, you snivelling omega?" Jasper mocked, kicking their dangling legs out to scrap against Logan's. They missed.
Logan only hoisted them up higher, extending his arm all the way. He could hold him up there for a while. "Guess again." His gruff voice pulled Morph closer.
They hovered around the other end of the pool table, their fingers edging to a pool ball as a weapon if things went south. And they did quick.
The other guy had panic in his wide eyes when he realised what Logan was alluding to. " 'es one of them, ain't you boy. Let go of me, you rat infested muttie." His swings were getting more savage.
Nothing Logan couldn't handle. His shoulders tensed to the blow of words, keeping note of his surroundings. His ears were keen to the shuffling steps. The other two guys were closing in.
One battered a pool cue against his palm as a threat. It was flimsy, to be broken with Logan's snarl. He could handle it but honestly, where was the bartender when they needed them? Clearly turning a blind eye. Some fucking security he had...
The constant thump of the wood was a ticking time bomb. Logan cracked his neck, strengthening his grip like his resolve. Another bar bit the dust. Coming back here to drink was obviously off the menu for him and Morph. Especially when Logan was going to wreck it, Wolverine style.
"You disgusting pustule. You ain't got not fucking humanity in ya, ey?"
"One of them?" He chuckled briefly, " you ain't know the half of it, bub. I'm fucking both." Logan clarified with a hot huff out of his lips, dropping the guy as soon the two behind swarmed him fast with their arms attempting to wrestle him down. Morph smirked and chucked a yellow ball behind Logan's head, clonking one above the nose. The other unfortunately reached his jacket, yanking him back.
"Lets teach this little piggie who rules this establishment." He snarled, stumbling back on his feet just as quick.
In one fluid motion, Logan unleashed his built up fury. A blink and you'll miss it moment really. Logan twisted back and kicked hard, dropping one down by the other in a team effort with Morph. Morph rounded up the set of unplayed balls and threw them like heavy artillery.
A heavy oof sank into the background when Logan punched the main crony, landing another two and stunning them. They swayed on their legs for a quick minute before Logan uppercutted them, slamming them back down into the dirt.
Morph hopped over the table and kicked with their force behind it, cracking one's cheek. There were a few stumbles from them with the two on three, but the X-Men quickly recovered. Logan braced himself with his arms to his chest, blocking a blow and pushing Morph to the side, stacking another hit. Morph twisted low and slid a leg out, tripping one over.
Dust rose in their battle and a few bottles were smashed in the calamity, the glass crunching under Logan's boots, though the pool table and stools were still standing. Logan panted, catching his breath and grabbed a stray punch, twisting the man's arm. He grunted, wanting mercy. Logan threw him backwards and stole a look towards Morph who was handing their own.
What a team.
Years of practice in the danger room was paying off. Humans were incapable of handing their raw strength.
Logan and Morph fought with what they had without fully resorting to their powers, kicking and punching their displeasure into the brutes. Yet the fun stopped there.
"Another one for the tally."
A heavy click resounded in their ears, stopping everything. Logan fastened his gaze to the barrel and then to Morph, watching the shaky hand twist towards his partner. A drawn out thump of the trigger pulled back. It was deafening.
Time stood still for a second.
Logan's eyes darted to the barrel, narrowing with vitriol. He had been kind enough to pummel them without cracking open their skulls and this was their repayment? To become fly-infested corpses in the back alley? Yeah, he wasn't having any of it.
His teeth bared their devilish beauty when he dashed forward, not thinking about the repercussions. A loud bang rattled his ears, all too out of tune.
"Logan!" Morph gasped, shapeshifting into him to do the thing Logan had withheld till now. Claws slashed in the air from the other while Logan fell forwards on his chest, hard, his shoulder shot to shit from the pistol. He groaned deep for an agonizing moment, fist clambering ahead. One set of his claws popping out like candy, his pain heard through his whole body.
No scream came, only deep, ragged panting, his eyes snapping wide awake when his overabundant healing kicked into effect. It took a second for him to feel stable, leaning the brunt of his body on one knee.
"That's it, shit face. I ain't going to play around with my food no more!" The guttural sound rumbling from the back of his throat sent shivers down their enemies backs. They froze in place, surprised that Logan could get up from a hit like that.
Wolverine would call that a regular Friday for him.
"Tough fucking talk for a lil' guy. I got more where that came from!" They spat loudly, aiming high.
"Oh yeah? You haven't seen anything yet." Logan smirked, watching Morph disarm them in his form. A loose shot went to the ceiling, sprinkling a light flush of debris onto the pool table.
Morph then transformed themselves into Cyclops, aiming the visor down to their crotch. A warning ray struck them just below their junk. "No more funny ideas, idiot. I think we've proven the point that we're better than you." They spoke with authority, rattling the belligerent trio.
"Do as my partner says," Logan backed Morph up, taking the extra moment to get on his two legs.
The other two without a gun dropped their fists and backed away, waving a white flag. On his feet, Logan spun and revealed his own claws again, almost upset he had missed his chance to use them. The extra threat of the adamantium scared the gun holder, scampering away like a crab in a cartoon.
They were alone; Victorious.
"Yeah, and stay out!" Morph shouted to their backs, exhaling deep and reverting back into their grey form.
Logan panted louder than them, using the table as a crutch. His shoulder wasn't smashed to bits but it hurt so damn bad. He'd have Hank look at it once they got back. There was no loophole in avoiding medical attention.
Morph retrieved their bottles, noticing the barkeep cower with a shotgun in their grip, and handled Logan his. He graciously took a victory sip, grimacing that it tasted worse than he remembered.
"Thanks for backing me up, babe." his voice oozed with appreciation, smiling delicately to their partner. A twinge scared his lips, twisting them in a moment of pain again. Morph couldn't let it slide any longer.
"No probs, but I told you to leave them..." They started, taking a swig themselves and placing the unfinished bottle down, no longer interested in the wretched buzz. "But I can't make a leopard change their spots, can I."
Logan chewed on the inside of his cheek and scratched his chin, finally enjoying the comfortable silence in a long time. "Told you it'd be hard to change me. Nothing comes easy with an old grumpy wolf. 'Sides, I'd bore you if I wasn't me."
"Ain't no boring day with you in bed with me." Morph chuckled at their antics, waving that they were done. Logan eyed the battlefield. It was a miracle that they hadn't battery-rammed anyone into any walls. The structural integrity of the building was sound. Minus a few scuffed floorboards. Nothing a little tip won't fix.
Before they left, Logan left a small tip. He wasn't going to, on account of the asshole's behaviour, but thought better. He was trying to be the bigger man, offering a few extra bucks.
"Don't come back." The bartender wailed out, pocketing the hundred immediately. The gun was hidden under the bench. Some brains were still in that one.
And yeah, Logan figured that would happen after the claws had come out. No good deed ends up unpunished. At least he had gotten the rage out of his system, with a bullet wound to show for it.
"Was my favourite jacket," Logan barked when Morph took the wheel, clocking them out of the parking lot. He fiddled with the hole, sighing deep. Leather was hard to repair.
"We can just buy another one next time we're out." Morph said calmly, eyes on the road. "Besides, gives us more time to spend together, eh?" A sleek smile planted itself on Morph's lips.
Logan caught the meaning, wanting to kiss them but instead brushed his fingertips against their arm. "You want another date? After a busted up the last one?" A painful grunt slipped by from the movement.
"Oh Logan, you didn't have to ask in that way." Morph teased, accepting it with glee. At least one of them were unscathed.
Hank was going to ask too many questions when they went back from the bar and a scuffed up Logan didn't want to explain himself again. Being a mutant was tough enough, but an alpha too? A double whammy on spit upon privilege. Neither of them asked for it, but it was what it was. At least his friend was going to brawl them. Having Hank on their side was a positive.
Logan sighed, getting comfortable. They were still far from the mansion and the sun was fading fast over the horizon. Boy, the orange sure looked sublime to look at. Logan allowed his eyes to drift shut, lightly snoring. Morph stole a few careful glances towards Logan, admiring his posture. He looked rather adorable with his arms over his chest, the steady rise and fall calming for their senses.
"Sleep tight, Logan. Love you, burly guy." Morph breathed out quietly, not wanting to disturb their sleeping beauty, hand slowly slipping from the wheel to caress their arm. It was sweet and if Logan was awake he would tease him for it, driving them straight for a kiss.
That's what Logan did best. Always keep Morph's love first and foremost, ready to stick up for their mutant kind, no matter the consequences on his body. He could take the hits for sure. Logan was a big boy, ready to ruin the world to keep Morph safe.
And that's what ultimately mattered. Their love.
Gunshot wounds be damned.