X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Origins ❯ Chapter 16 ( Chapter 16 )

Words between / / are thoughts or mental speak
Words between * * are flashbacks
Words between ~ ~ are lyrics to any songs that may be used in the fic

Ch 16

The back of a dainty hand came up to stifle a yawn as Ororo made her way towards the kitchen. She had willingly given up her bed to the handsome Cajun last night, seeing that he had fallen into a much needed, peaceful slumber. The look on his face reflected the little boy he most likely never got to be, and she sighed dreamily at the ability to provide him one restful night. It was something she would gladly do again. But damn that bed in the guest room was so hard! Her back ached, the stiffness of the mattress allowing no give to her poor tortured body. She missed the soft feathery feel of her pillow-top mattress. And the room was incredibly tiny; nothing like the spacious feel of her loft. The ceiling had closed in on her all night to the point at which she had to consciously battle her claustrophobia. No, she knew she couldn’t have denied the young man something like a good night’s sleep when it was in her power to give it. After all, in the short amount of time he had been with them, she had come to view him as a family member of sorts, an emotional response that she decided not to analyze too deeply though it was rather unlike her. But if the circumstances were to occur again, she would just have to roll him over to one side and he could share.

She felt tired and a little irritable, and it was obvious to Ororo that she would need to make extra effort on her part to contain it. But, despite this recognition, she couldn’t help crinkling her nose at the smell that hit her as she walked into the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Logan on the opposite side of the table, smoking a nasty ‘tube of death’ and reading the paper.

“Must you smoke those vile things in here?” She said it with more venom than she had intended.

He simply growled at her from behind the paper, a decent night’s sleep eluding him as well. “I’ll smoke ‘em where I damn well please.” He responded without looking away from the paper.

She paused and simply stared at him. Charles had long ago, and after much wrangling, reached a tolerable compromise with Logan. The feral was allowed to smoke one cigar a day within the walls of the mansion, but only in the confines of his room or when no other members of the household were around; as long as the smell did not permeate the furnishings and cast a continuous offensive odor. Logan chose this morning to indulge. 

Outside, a faint roll of thunder sounded in the distance. Logan flicked the corner of the paper down to eye the weather-witch letting a low rumbling growl build in his throat – two could play at that game.

“What? Ya gonna hit me with a bolt o’ lightnin’?”

Ororo pinched the bridge of her nose, working to get her emotions under control. “You’re right. I’m sorry I snapped. Please, let’s start over. Good morning Logan. Will you please extinguish the cigar at the breakfast table?”

He took a deep drag, his one pleasure spoiled before the day had even begun. Not feeling in a particularly forgiving or congenial mood he blew the smoke out in a great ball towards the weather goddess. “I’ll smoke where I damn well please.” He reiterated.

Brows drawing together in anger, she gave him a level look. “Do not test me Logan. I have asked you nicely.”

“Nah ya didn’t. Ya came in and demanded.”

“And I have apologized and tried again. I will only say this one more time.”

“Or ya’ll do what?” Logan snapped the paper and turned his gaze away, rudely dismissing her presence as he continued to puff away. He was in no mood to play happy family this morning as he leaned the chair back on two legs.

Ororo arched a brow. “So you will not put it out?”

“That’s right sister.” And as if to emphasize his point, he took another long drag, pursing his lips to blow rings.

“Very well.” Her eyes turned white as she concentrated. Suddenly a tiny cloud appeared above Logan’s head. He only had a moment to note the small thunder clap that drew his attention to the formation before a deluge of water rained down on him. He was so startled by the action that his chair fell over backwards, dumping him - as well as his drenched and soggy cigar - and paper to the floor. Seeing Logan sprawled out, sputtering and gasping in an undignified manner while his wet hair fell around him like some great shaggy beast, was enough to lighten even Ororo’s mood, and she didn’t bother to hide her enjoyment of the scene. 

“The HELL?!?!?!” he spat, mortified at the ruination of his precious stogie. Ororo walked gracefully over to his side and squatted down to stare him right in the eye, her amusement plainly displayed on her face. “What d'ya do that for?”

“I did ask nicely Logan.”

“Awe hell, ‘Ro. I was gonna put it out. I was only messin’ around.” He groaned, mourning the loss of a perfectly good cigar.

She put one finger under his chin to tilt it her way so that she had his undivided attention. “Ah, but it’s not nice to mess with Mother Nature.” She gave him a full-on cheeky grin before leaning over to kiss him on the tip of his nose.

He scowled at her, casting a deadly glare towards the white haired mutant crouched next to him. The woman was enjoying his discomfiture a bit too much for his taste. “Well the least ya can do is to not leave me sufferin’.” 

Ororo shook her head and stood, reaching a hand down to help her team mate. She pulled the wasted stump from his hand and deftly tossed it into the trash receptacle on the other side of the room. At the continued frown on his face, she pouted at him for a moment, her eyes donning a puppy-dog look. “Awe, don’t be that way Logan. I’ll grow you another one. Now, sit.” He grumbled a moment, but did as she bid and was rewarded with a nice warm breeze that rapidly dried his clothes, skin and hair.

***************

Two floors above, in the upper most level of the mansion, a lean, lithe form stretched like a great cat. Muscles pulling and tensing in all directions, Remy was brought up short by a sharp pain in his lower back. “Mon Dieu! Dis bed like sleeping on a sponge.” It was just too soft, the mattress offering no support to his body. After standing, he performed a few calisthenics to work out the knots in his muscles, yawning one last time before making his way downstairs. As he approached the kitchen, he could feel the irritation and amusement coming from within. He paused outside the door, steeling himself to face the feral after the intensity of last night, and pulled up his smile from somewhere as he entered the kitchen. The first look at the older mutant and he no longer had to fake the grin. The man was an absolute picture of misery with his hair sticking straight out at all angles and a scowl on his face as he stared despondently at the ruined newsprint in front of him. On the other side of the kitchen was the white haired beauty in whose room he had slept, merriment dancing in her eyes towards her disgruntled team mate. “Do I want to know?”

“No” came the bark from Logan.

Ororo giggled softly and motioned for Remy to sit as she finished preparing breakfast for the three of them. When the meal was served, Remy looked up at her, pointing a piece of bacon in her direction. “Dis good, chere. And t’anks for last night.” He didn’t miss the sharp snap of the older man’s neck as he whipped his eyes towards him. Suddenly, he felt a roiling in his stomach and the need to quickly explain, but Storm beat him to the punch.

“Well, I’ll have to admit it’s not everyday someone falls asleep in my bed while I’m in the middle of discussing the finer points of plant care.” She joked, then her face softened. “You were very tired. It looks like you haven’t been sleeping well. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. I hope you enjoyed my comfortable bed. I have to say, the one in the guest room is like sleeping on a rock.”

Remy chuckled. “Was ‘bout to say your bed be way too soft for dis Cajun. Je suis desole for causing you to sleep in discomfort last night.”

She waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. Next time, I’ll just roll you over and make you share.” She gave him a wink and a mischievous grin before settling down to eat her food.

Logan had been listening to the banter with keen interest, while trying to remain indifferent to the conversation. After all, his sense of smell was second to none in the mansion and he had detected nothing from Storm’s area as he’d made his way to breakfast. He listened to them continue their conversation over the pros and cons of soft versus hard mattresses, only tuning into half of it, but glancing occasionally at them. He noticed the boy covertly glancing back through those long wisps of auburn bangs and struggled to contain the smirk that threatened his lips.

“How are your sessions going with the Professor” Ororo asked innocently as she prepared to spread jam on a piece of toast.

Remy’s face shuttered. “Fine.”

Logan arched a brow but said nothing. He knew from talking with the Professor that it was anything but. Xavier was very good at keeping confidentialities, but had sought out his help in trying to get the boy to open up. The telepath was fairly sure there were things that Remy was not telling them.

Ororo paused, glancing at the closed expression on the Cajun’s face, before continuing. “Yes, of course. But I shouldn’t pry.” She took a bite of her toast and began to diligently chew, just to have something to keep her mouth busy. 

The sigh from across the table was barely noticeable. Why he felt guilty for not baring his soul to these people was beyond his capacity to understand. There was no rational reason as to the feelings he was developing towards his targets. “I...It not prying when you concerned for an…ami?” The sentence turned into a question.

Ororo smiled at him. “Most assuredly, Remy LeBeau.” She noted some of the tension in his shoulders eased with her answer. She stood to deposit her dishes in the sink and turned to excuse herself. “Don’t forget the others will be arriving later. Remy, you remember you will be cooking for a larger number this evening?”

“Oui” he said quietly. She smiled and made her exit, leaving just the two men.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two and Remy played with the food that remained on his plate. Without looking at the older man, he decided to broach the topic. “Logan, ‘bout last night. I’m…”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it kid.” The older mutant interrupted.

Remy’s brows drew together in confusion. “T’ought you might want to talk 'bout it.”

“Ain’t nothing to talk ‘bout.”

Remy frowned. “Oh” he said softly, disappointment lacing his voice.

“I meant what I said. I ain’t pushin’ ya away, it’s just…I ain’t inta one-nighters.” Remy’s eyes looked at the feral for the first time and was instantly pierced by deep pools of blue, the intensity of which made him shiver. “I don’t do things half-way.” Logan stood up and made his way around the table, coming up next to the younger male, eyes never breaking contact. “Ya think ya can handle it?” He murmured. Remy’s breathing increased as the feral neared him, the power of the older man radiating towards him, causing his skin to tingle and his groin to tighten at the proximity of the warm body beside him. Never before had he reacted so physically to another’s presence. It wasn’t even necessary for the other man to touch him now in order to affect his very soul. 

Logan stood there silently, staring down at the younger mutant intensely for several minutes, noting the boy’s physical reactions and struggling to manage his own. Finally, he spoke to break the spell. “Don’t forget to meditate at some point today like I taught ya.” Logan continued to stand next to the boy, unwilling or unable to move. 

Remy swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment to regain control of his wayward body. “I…I t’ought we were meditating togedder.”

“Ya don’t need my instruction anymore.” He replied. /An’ I can’t focus when yer near me./ He thought to himself. At the slight slump in the younger man’s shoulders, Logan’s hand came down and grasped the back of Remy’s neck, pulling the boy up against him. Lips met and Logan’s tongue plunged into that warm cavern, savouring the feeling of the roof of his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. He chased that soft warm flesh around, bruising the younger mutant’s lips as his hand grabbed hold of soft auburn locks and pulled the boy completely out of his chair. Remy’s own hand came up to grasp the hair on the side of Logan’s head, the other hand fisting the feral’s shirt to steady himself. After a minute, Logan ended the kiss, pulling away and leaving them both panting hard as he rested his forehead against that of the younger male. 

“Dieu” Remy breathed unsteadily. 

Logan gust out a chuckle before pulling away. “My thoughts exactly, Cajun.” He released the boy and stepped back, eyes boring into those exotic orbs. “The offer stands if yer willing. Think about it Gumbo.” And then he was gone, leaving Remy with a mind whirling with possibilities, and an unsatisfied ache in his groin.

*********

The meeting with the Professor had been shorter than usual, the telepath having several other pressing matters to handle before the team arrived and the influx of new students at the beginning of the next week. He made sure the Cajun understood that a shorter session did not mean he was off the hook in regards to assignments given. Remy understood the necessity of the lessons, continual practice of which would only strengthen his control over his steadily growing powers, but he was still happy to end the meeting early. The older man was getting too close, drawing things out of Remy that he would rather not remember; bringing memories to the forefront that were better left buried. And with each new meeting, Remy was afraid something would slip out to give him away. Despite his developing feelings towards these people, and his growing reservations in the mission he had been given, it was still very important to maintain a cover. Bad enough the telepath was suspicious of what Remy was hiding. 

But even with the pressure mounting, Remy’s mind wasn’t on the mission. Rather, he found himself continuing to dwell on the feral. What was it about that man that was drawing Remy to him? At first, he thought it was the unpredictable wild side of the man, that berserker mode that was just below the surface, kept in check with an iron-clad will. However, the more he thought on it, the less likely it seemed. After all, he was already acquainted intimately with another mutant with identical abilities, yet held no desire for that particular feral. If anything, experiences with Creed had taught him why it’s best to completely avoid a mutant with any kind of untamed beast persona. It was not so much that he feared a berserker mutant, Remy could protect himself fairly well, his powers strong even before the blocks were removed. But why risk it?

He was not so far gone in his infatuation that he missed the Professor telling him of the blood sample and general checkup the doctor would be performing. Remy bit his tongue to keep from admitting that he already knew that. It would just confirm the telepath’s suspicions. After all, the only way he could possibly know of an impending medical exam would be to sneak a peak at his file on the computer system, and surely Mr. LeBeau would not do such a thing. Remy chuckled to himself as he sat atop the washing machine waiting for the last round of laundry to cycle. /Non, it won’t do for de man to t’ink me a t’ief/ His humor slowly faded as the memories began to surface again and he actively squashed the torturous visions, pulling out a card from his ever present deck to seek out the healing qualities of the meditation techniques Logan taught him.

“Merde.” He hissed as he lightly charged the card and flung it away from his body, ignoring the resulting pop as it exploded into so much ash. Attempting the steps simply brought back the disappointment of the earlier encounter in the kitchen. The feral didn’t want to meditate with him any longer. But he had lessened the hurt of that rejection with a searing kiss that made Remy’s toes curl. A goofy smile made its way back to his face as he thought of that. It didn’t last, however, as the reality of the situation came back to bite him in the ass. Sighing, he ran fingers through his hair, willing away the depression that threatened to overwhelm him. He was ordered to seduce one of the X-men, and Logan was his chosen target. The trouble was he actually ‘wanted’ to seduce the feral. He desired the man more than anything he had ever desired before. And for the first time in as long as he could remember his wants and needs were in perfect agreement with each other. Yet the outcome of this whole mission would insure that he would never have the man in his life as anything other than a mortal enemy. The pain in his gut intensified and he was fairly sure he would have massive life-threatening ulcers by the time this whole scenario played out. 

The washer moved into the spin cycle, the machine beginning to hum and vibrate in conjunction with the dryer, creating a delicious rhythm below him. Heat radiated through his body and Remy began to picture the night before when the older mutant had pinned him to the bed. He could almost feel the man’s tongue laving his skin as he brought his own hand up to his neck, gently stroking downwards as he closed his eyes. His fingertips moved to the top button of his shirt, slowly releasing it through the hole and teasing the soft patch of exposed skin. Logan was all muscle, well-defined arms as large as any body builder. Remy remembered the sight of his chest, the rich, thick hair that covered him like a luxurious carpet of fine silk. A small moan escaped his throat as he fell into the cadence of the machine. The next three buttons opened just as easily as the first, and he stroked his abdomen, moving to pinch a dusky nipple. The machines were moving in earnest, the heat beginning to sear through fabric and Remy’s head fell back as he groaned at the sensation. He lowered himself to lie cross-wise over the top of both units, one leg drawn up while the other dangled over the edge, and he moved his hands lower to fumble with the button of his pants. It took only a moment to release the zipper, his erection springing forth demanding attention. 

Logan couldn’t keep his mind off the boy. The kiss they shared in the kitchen - not to mention the passion that nearly consumed them the night before - had the feral completely off balance. It had been a long time since anyone made him feel this way. It was clouding his thoughts to anything else, consuming every bit of his mind. What he needed was to work off some steam in the Danger Room. He was moving along the lower corridor towards the elevator that would take him to the sub-basement level when he heard sounds coming from the area of the laundry room. It almost sounded like someone was in pain. Gliding silently along the hall, he stopped at the door to the room, smelling instantly the pungent tang of maleness even above all the harsh odor of cleaning chemicals. The boy was in there…and he was pleasuring himself. Logan’s heart bounded in his chest as he focused all his senses on the Cajun, bending forward slightly to peer through the crack left by the slightly open door.

The washer began to rock, and Remy’s head fell back, his body arching into the touch of his hands as he pulled and stroked the hardened flesh between his legs. The shaking and bucking of the machines against his buttocks were quickly sending him over the edge. In his mind’s eye, he could see and feel the older mutant behind him, thrusting into him hard and fast. Remy moaned at the sensations as his ‘dream lover’ squeezed a nipple; fingers falling down to fondle the soft hairs around his twin sacs. “Oh Oui mon couer.” He whispered, eyes shut tight as the vision played out in his mind. The feral was power personified, a beauty all his own as far as Remy was concerned. He could feel the older man’s hot breath on his neck as the machines vibrated below him. He continued to stroke his swollen shaft, completely oblivious to the man watching him from the doorway.

Logan began to sweat, the sight of this lithe creature, writhing against the vibrations, driving him insane. The overwhelming desire to enter the room, drag the boy to the ground and fuck him senseless was stirring his inner beast to near frenzy. 

Remy was in ecstasy. The delicious friction of the units against his bottom and his hand on his cock were urging him to completion. Emotions overwhelmed him, stronger than before, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Remy realized they weren’t all his. But his mind was too fogged with lust to understand the implications of that as he continued to stroke himself in time with the bucking machine, enjoying the heat at his back as much as the heat burning his hand. Unconsciously, Logan’s own hand started to move as he watched the erotic display before him. Never before had such a wanton act turned him on as much as the one he was witnessing, and he had been privy to many in his long life. He realized in that moment that it was more than lust; though the lust was a large part of it. He wanted the boy, desperately, more than anyone else he had ever wanted before. No sooner did that realization hit him when he heard the evidence that the feelings were more than mutual. 

Remy stroked faster, his completion nearing as he watched the vision of his feral lover; feeling the older man’s tongue dip into the shell of his ear and whisper his name. It was enough to send him over the edge and with a choked cry he gasped “Logan!” as he came, ribbons of white cream streaking his stomach. He tugged a second then a third time, milking every last drop, whispering the name over and over. Finally, spent, his hands fell lax to the sides of his body. Dream lover Logan was still rocking into him and Remy sighed with pleasure.

Logan fell back from the door to lay his head back against the wall, trying to get his body under control. The Cajun had called out Logan’s name in orgasmic bliss; the boy really ‘did’ want him. A slow smile made its way to Logan’s face as the thought sunk in. But it wouldn’t do for the kid to catch him out here spying. He had meant what he said about wanting more than a one night stand. Logan’s hand hovered over his own groin, the unfulfilled ache throbbing as he closed his eyes and willed himself to calm. “Shit!” He muttered, swallowing hard before turning to stalk away.

Remy opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling as the dryer and washer spun to a shuddering stop. Lifting his head he looked down the length of his body and groaned. For the second time in as many days he had given in to his lust. Suddenly he felt exposed, the possibility of discovery had never entered his mind as he’d pumped himself into oblivion, but now he felt embarrassment and a little disgusted with his wanton behavior 

/Dieu what’s wrong wit’ you, Remy LeBeau. You here to do a job and all you can t’ink ‘bout is fucking him./ He chided himself. Quickly sitting up he pulled his shirt down and hastily wiped the evidence from his belly, tucking himself awkwardly back into his pants before hopping down from the machines. The cycles were completed so he threw all the clean clothes into a hamper for transport back to his room, placing the last load of wet clothes in to the dryer. Sighing as he looked down at his sticky shirt, he decided to wash it by hand as there was nothing else left to justify another load in the unit; there would be just enough time to shower and take care of his clothes before heading down to begin the dinner preparations. The prospect of meeting the rest of the inhabitants of this mansion caused an anxious flutter in his stomach. Would they be as accepting as the three he had already met? Would his feelings towards the other members develop as strongly as they had for the feral and the weather goddess? And he wondered if he would come to respect any of them as he was beginning to respect the telepath. Only time would tell.

*********

on to part 17

Back to Jukebox Fics