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Logan was up and bristling in a second, fist drawn back, ready to shiv.
"Whoa. Easy. I come in peace."
"Who are you? Who sent you?"
"Valid questions." There was a thoughtful pause. "Can I close the door first?" Snow was blurring the hardwood beneath the man's booted feet.
"You can close it. But don't bother to get comfortable." The stranger had to put his shoulder to the door to close it against the wind.
"So." He tugged off his hat. Just a goddamned kid. "Bold fashion choice." It took Logan a moment to remember he was shirtless. He flicked a glance at his shirts and socks, in a heap on the floor by the cot, his sewing kit on top.
He met the kid's gaze and narrowed his eyes.
"Can't say I feel the cold much. And you have about thirty seconds before I throw you out into the snow."
"Yeah. But. You're probably going to do that anyway."
"You oughta get yourself a psychic hotline. Talk."
But the kid was... looking at him, flaring his nostrils.
Logan frowned and took a quick, deep sniff himself. What the--?
"Mutant?"
"Werewolf?" The kid said, at the same time.
"That's what you are?"
"Uh. Yeah. Oz. Me werewolf." He actually held his mittened hand out, and Logan just scowled at him until he dropped it. "I came here to hide out for a while. Stay out of the way. Of people."
"I'd ask you to join the club, but there's a membership cap of one. Go squat somewhere else, Rover. I've got things to do."
"But it's gonna be nightfall soon." The kid shifted, the only sign of unease he'd shown since he'd turned up.
"Uh huh. Shove off, kid."
"You don't want me out there. In fact, you don't want to be here so much, either."
"Don't tell me what I want. Just clear out. Or should I throw a stick first?"
"Look. The moon's full tonight. And I'm... a werewolf? It's. Kind of a heavy scene."
"I can take care of myself." He let his claws out, gauging the distance so they ended just in front of the kid's nose. Oz's eyes widened a bit, but he didn't give any ground. And Logan could smell something that made his hackles rise.
Oz nodded.
"See? I'm sorry. But this place was empty last month."
"Well, that explains the shackles bolted into the wall." Logan considered Oz, sniffed again. Tussling with a werewolf would only get him more shredded clothes. Which meant more goddamned sewing. "Okay. Gimme the keys."
The kid dug into a bag he had slung over his shoulder and handed them over. Then he unzipped his parka.
Before he knew it, Oz had skinned down to his briefs. His belly was as hairless as a child's but his feet and hands were broad and callused.
"Too warm in here?"
The kid wasn't quite blushing, but Logan could sense the heat of it behind his skin.
"Clothes. Hamper the wolfing out process."
"Uh huh." He followed Oz with his eyes as he buckled himself into the shackles that had been screwed into the wall near the wood burning stove. After he'd tested the fastenings, he hooked his thumbs into his underwear and shoved them off.
Logan didn't even pretend he wasn't staring.
"I uh. Chafe. And I only brought one pair."
Logan shook his head and sat down with his back to the kid, darning socks and ignoring him until--
He felt the hot, stinking breath of a beast on his neck.