Jesus Christ, did Creed just lick him? Logan scowled; even the sight of pieces of Creed all over the corridor couldn't please him enough to wipe that little scene out of his head. This was not going that way. Creed was getting his fucking hands off the kid, now.
So he did what any rational adamantium-laced guy would've done; he jumped, and he shoved all six claws in just as far as they'd go down into Victor Creed's lower back. And he twisted, yanked back, pulling him off of him. "You don't go near him," he snarled, low, by Creed's ear close enough to bite down at the lobe and split it clear off. Sure, it'd be back, but spitting half the guy's ear down the corridor in a smear of blood was pretty darn satisfying. He grinned, teeth bloody, mouth bloody. "You come get me instead."