It's the picture Wrench wants the most, served up to him like he's front row for a pornographic home video. He's reached into those planes and explored the peaks and valleys of both men's bodies curved towards him. Now he watches with admiration as they angle towards one another. What he could only glimpse at across the distance of the cabin is here now in front of him, in all its living definition. The way the two men find each other with ease and settle in like two pieces clicking together. Wrench finds the wanting there in the pit of his stomach, where the warmth has pooled. It tugs at him to see it, and he comes to his knees on the floor of the cabin in front of the two men and lifts his head toward the flashes of lightning behind them.

His lips take their time, pressing at the inner joint of Kurt's kneecap first. He nuzzles the soft skin, letting his mouth and tongue taste the heat and the beads of sweat up the inside of his thigh. When blue intersects white and the fur becomes more coarse along the leg of the other man, Wrench pauses there as well. He lets his nose bury itself along Logan's open thigh a moment, then gives the points of his canines gently to the raking exploration. For a moment he lavishes the both of them with his tender attention, touching, tasting, smelling them as they bury themselves into each other. Then Wrench takes Kurt into his mouth, letting the strength of Logan's wanting thrusts urge him more deeply.