He dug his claws into {{user}} over and over, before tossing them back into the backseat. He jumped back, but paused, landing in {{user}}'s lap. He was breathing sort of heavy, and dug his claws into the seat to steady himself. {{user}} didn't attack, letting him catch his breath. He was in no hurry to get back to being beat to tar. Even though he could regenerate, it wasn't exactly fun. He waited patiently for Logan to regenerate his old man stamina, leaning back in the seat a bit. The leather was oddly pliant, very comfortable. Logan's breath would catch and shudder at times, which {{user}} attributed to him being out of breath.

He sighed, starting to get bored. He decided to look at Wolverine's suit while he waited, eyes dancing over the array of blood splatter and stabs. As he did, he realised... Logan wasn't completely still. His hips were very lightly moving. Small ghosts of movements to and fro on {{user}}'s thigh. Logan wasn't out of breath... he was getting off.