X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Origins ❯ Chapter 22 ( Chapter 22 )

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 22

Everything changed. It was something Remy couldn’t deny as he slowly woke to the deep, steady breathing of the man he had made love to the night before. At least, he assumed that’s what they had done. Of all the partners he had ever lain with, never before had such deep feelings been involved and never before had he stayed the whole night, sleeping next to his mark. Only, he couldn’t think of this man as a mark, Logan meant more to him than that. That thought alone made their coupling of the previous night more than just sex. The soft, downy-like hair of Logan’s chest tickled Remy’s cheek where it lay nestled. The heat of the older man’s body seeped through to Remy’s bones, suffusing his body with incredible warmth; the feeling of sunlight raising the temperatures of a previously dark, cold void. Remy’s eyes wandered down the older man’s torso, taking in as much as possible without moving his head. They flickered over to the window where early morning sun slivered through small openings between the heavy draperies, striping the end of the bed in a muted orange hue. It disturbed Remy that he had not noticed Logan leaving the bed at some point in the night to close the curtains. Subconsciously, the younger man’s body was already fully trusting of the feral. He was also touched that the man thought enough of him and his sensitive eyes to shut out the sun. A bitter jaded voice deep inside taunted him, though. /He also has sensitive eyes. He pulled those curtains for himself/ Yet, as soon as the thought emerged he squashed it, knowing it for the lie that it was. 

His bladder was beginning to make itself known, slowly demanding attention and inevitable action, but Remy couldn’t be bothered to move just yet. Lying in the older man’s arms, there was comfort to be had here, something missing from Remy’s life for too many years. The deep even sounds of breathing in conjunction with the steady rise and fall of the chest pillowed beneath him was enough to lull Remy into a mild meditative trance much more effectively than his Joker card ever could. A few minutes later, he was startled by the rumbling of the chest beneath him as the older man spoke. “You awake?”

“Oui” he breathed out, almost afraid to disturb the tranquility that had settled in the early morning light.

For a moment neither spoke, enjoying the companionable silence. Thoughts of last night ventured through Remy’s mind, bringing with it the awkwardness of waking in the older man’s arms. It wasn’t a position he was accustomed to and he wondered what the appropriate actions of the morning would be. Should he simply leave? Give the man a quick kiss of thanks and maybe a blowjob in appreciation? Or perhaps he should romance the feral, bring him flowers and chocolates or sing him silly little love songs? /Right/ he snorted at the thought. As if the man would want to have anything to do with him once this mission was completed. That sudden thought made his heart within his chest tighten, clenching with despair. 

“What?” Logan questioned, his voice slightly gruff with the final dregs of sleep.

“Nuttin’, just t’inking ‘bout…dis.” Remy moved his hand over the fine chest hairs of the man below him. 

Logan shifted a little, scooting his body up so that he leaned against the headboard to stare down at the Cajun. Running his hand through the boy’s soft auburn locks, he frowned in thought. “It…bother ya what we did last night? You regrettin’ it Cajun?” He tried to make his voice sound neutral, but there was an inflection of hurt none the less.

Remy picked up on it and looked up into those azure eyes to quickly assure the older man. “Non Logan. Don’ regret it a’tall.” 

“Then what?”

He turned away from the feral’s gaze, slender fingers drawing patterns on the massive chest beneath him. “Just wondering what de ot’ers will t’ink. Dis your home, Logan.” Remy sighed as he laid his cheek back down and stared towards the window where the morning light had brightened considerably. “Two men sleeping togedder ain’t exactly normal, neh? I know what it like to have de people you love turn deir back on you.”

Logan snorted, a sound that caused Remy to look back at him in surprise. “Since when did I give a shit about crap like that?” Seeing the confusion on Remy’s face, Logan brushed the auburn bangs back so he could see both sets of glowing eyes. “Look Remy, people are gonna think what they think and say what they wanna say about ya no matter what ya do to try and please ‘em. So, in the end, ya only gotta please yerself. Understand?” He stroked the younger man’s face a moment and chuckled before continuing. “Maybe I’ve grown cynical in my old age, but I really don’t give a damn what other people think. They’ll either accept me for me, or I’ll move on.” 

Remy smiled at the feral. “It would be deir loss, homme.”

“Damn straight.” Logan grinned back. “Now, I dunno about you, but I could eat a horse.” 

Remy took that as his cue to get moving. As he walked towards the door leading to the older man’s private bath as naked as the day he was born, he paused and glanced back at Logan, smirking at the lust he could see in those ocean colored orbs. “Y’ know, I used quite a bit a hot water after practice yesterday. Pro’bly won’t be as much for everyone today. We should t’ink about conserving it, neh?” He winked at the feral in invitation before sashaying through the door. Logan grinned at the retreating form and threw back the covers to follow. It had been a long time since he had made love in the shower.

******

They were late making their way into the common eating area, Remy slightly behind Logan. A majority of the residents had finished and left already, only the team leader, his wife and Rogue remaining. Remy struggled to hide the smug smirk that threatened his face when he noted the blushing pregnant telepath sitting next to her scowling husband. It was obvious that she had picked up on their morning activities, and apparently shared it with Scott. “Bon jour.” he crooned; a dazzling row of teeth in full display to greet the trio as he sat down next to Jean. For his part, Logan merely grunted and moved to a chair on the opposite side of the table, next to the southern girl and facing the red-haired beauty. 

The feral’s plate was piled high with various breakfast meats, and he dug into his meal with gusto, heartily ignoring the scathing look his leader was giving him behind those protective lenses. But, Scott refused to be ignored. “You’re late. Breakfast started over an hour ago.”

“So?” Logan shrugged as he forked a piece of sausage and popped it in his mouth, resisting the urge to smack his lips and chew with his mouth open just to annoy the other man.

Scott simmered and ground his teeth. “So, you’re expected to join everyone else at the table when the meal is served.”

Logan continued to focus on shoveling in his food, almost as if the whole conversation was a waste of his time. “Don’t remember there being any rules saying I gotta show up to meals with the group.”

“It’s understood. What kind of example do you think you’re setting?” There was more behind the question than mere tardiness to breakfast.

Shrugging again, Logan took a sip of his coffee, eyeing the other man over the rim of his cup as he savored the rich full-bodied chicory taste before answering. “Don’t really care.”

Remy watched the little exchange with some amusement. There was obviously more going on between the two than a simple missed meal. It was almost like watching two wolves challenge each other over some unknown territory – the victor being the one to lead the pack. Rogue on the other hand was simply confused, aware that something had taken place to irritate the team leader – something to do with Logan and the Cajun, a thought she didn’t like in the least. Her eyes widened in surprise when Scott slammed the side of one fist down, the silverware beside his plate clanking with the tremor of the table. “What do you mean you don’t care? What you do reflects on this team as a whole. You, of all people, should know that the others look up to you. Your actions directly influence the younger ones. I can’t have that, Logan.”

“Scott.” Jean’s quiet voice drifted out as she placed a restraining hand on her husband’s forearm.

Logan paused in his eating, placed the utensils back on the table and wiped his mouth before turning narrowed eyes on Cyclops. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t in the military anymore, Scooter. What I do is my business.” A smile that was little more than a baring of teeth appeared on the feral’s face as he deliberately used the derogatory nickname to irritate the other man. 

Scott stood and frowned down at the older man. “As long as it doesn’t endanger the team.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to frown. “Ain’t done nuttin’ to endanger the team.” He replied a bit defensively.

“Yet.” Scott answered, casting a significant glance in the squirming Cajun’s direction before turning back to the feral with a grim set to his mouth.

Anger surged in Logan and he took a moment to bring his emotions under control. Slowly, he stood from the table and faced the other mutant, his posture both relaxed and threatening at the same time; muscles tensing and flexing with raw power like a snake preparing to strike. “Watch it, bub.” He saw the team leader’s mouth open as if to say something before it snapped shut again, a muscle twitching in the younger man’s jaw as he realized the situation was rapidly deteriorating.

Logan took a moment to look at the beautiful and very pregnant woman he had once desired above all others, then turned his gaze toward the bewildered young Southerner sitting next to him before making the decision that it was time to leave a potentially volatile situation. “C’mon Cajun. Think I’m in the mood for something a little bit stronger than coffee.” With that, he made his move to leave the room trusting the boy to follow. Remy gave the other three a lopsided grin before waving his own departure.

Scott was about to call after them when he felt his wife’s presence at his side. “Don’t Scott.”

“But..”

“The tighter you hold onto something, the more it will slip through your grasp.” She brought her fingers up to caress his jaw. “Don’t push him so hard with your rules, sweetie, or you’ll push him away. And that would definitely be a danger for the team.”

He seemed to deflate with those words, a pout forming on his lips that looked odd on his handsome, angular face. “I’m not sure about that boy. I wish the Professor would just this once forget his moral high ground and scan Remy’s mind. I want to know that he’s not here to cause any problems.” Scott’s other hand came to rest on her swollen belly, unconsciously signifying where most of his fears lay.

“And we both know that’s not right, Scott. I understand your worries. But we have to trust the Professor. And we have to trust Logan. They are both very good judges of character.” Jean reached up and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before she slowly made her way out of the room. 

Scott sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, then glanced over to Rogue. “Sorry you had to see all that Rogue. I guess Jean’s right, we can’t just invade a person’s mind for no reason.” He paused for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. “But, if someone who had no control over their powers were to accidentally gain access to his mind. Well, that couldn’t be helped…could it?” He speared her with a knowing look before leaving the befuddled girl to her own thoughts.

********

“That sanctimonious bastard.” Logan hissed when he was clear of the mansion. The air was sharp with the smell of early frost as the days shortened in the progression of the season towards winter. It was that odd, in-between time of the year when a heavy coat was too much, yet a light jacket didn’t keep the chill at bay. Logan strode with purpose down the paths leading to the lake. Remy followed at a leisurely pace, never losing sight of the man but not rushing to walk beside him either. It was obvious that Logan needed some space at the moment. When the feral reached the spot he had shown Remy when the Cajun had first come to the mansion, he stopped and took a deep breath, letting the crisp moist air coat the inside of his lungs. A cigar was pulled from his top shirt pocket and he started patting himself in search of his matches, frustration mounting as the fire sticks failed to surface. So absorbed in his ire, he was caught be surprise and flinched slightly when the end of his stogie popped and ignited, the boy’s finger hovering just to the side where he had just touched it. Deep blue eyes shifted sideways to stare at the Cajun for a moment before he puffed out a gust of smoke and thanked the boy.

Logan retreated to the log, remembering briefly the kiss he had shared with Remy in that same spot. Bringing one knee to his chest and resting his forearm on it, he let his hand dangle with the cigar caught between his fingers as he stared out over the water. Remy bit his lower lip in thought before shrugging and moving to sit beside the shorter man. Long, lean legs stretched out in front, feet crossing at the ankles as Remy began to shred a dead leaf that he snapped off a limb jutting from the top of the downed tree trunk. For a while, the only sounds were those of nature; the water gently lapping at the edges of its bank, the rustle of wind through bushes that never defoliated even in the dead of winter and the crinkle of the leaf in Remy’s hands. The serenity was broken as the feral mumbled. “Where the hell does he get off ordering me about like that? Damn, stuck-up prick.”

Remy said nothing; simply stared at the veins remaining in the leaf he had all but decimated and waited for the older man to continue. “It’s not like we HAVE to have breakfast together all the damn time, right?” But Remy knew the man wasn’t really expecting an answer from him, so he kept his mouth shut. “I mean, what the fuck?”

Crimson eyes looked up when the older man swiped a large hand over his face and sighed, the anger melting away to nothing in that one gesture. “Sorry Cajun.”

Logan's apology finally cued Remy to speak. “Dat weren’t ‘bout breakfast, eh mon ami?” When blue eyes turned to him, Remy turned away to stare at the distance beyond the waters of the lake. “Dis ‘bout you and me. Two men sleeping togedder. What I was afraid of.” Remy chuckled, but the sound was bitter. “Funny how dose dat are persecuted can demselves be prejudice.” 

“No, that ain’t it.” The absolute surety with which Logan answered made Remy’s eyes snap back to him. “Xavier’s dream and this refuge he’s created would be damn hypocritical if they felt that way about someone’s sexual preferences. No, this ain’t about you at all Cajun. This is about a mistake I made when I first came here. Something Scooter has yet to let go.”

Remy was intrigued to say the least. A thousand questions flooded his mind, but he bit his tongue and threw an expectant look at the older man. With the obvious desire for an answer written all over the boy’s face, Logan smirked and then brought the cigar to his lips to inhale the rich tang that always relaxed him. The flavor mingled with the lingering after-taste of the Cajun from their morning coupling. Even the food consumed at the breakfast table and the bold morning brew had failed to completely wash away the boy’s essence from his tongue, and Logan was never more grateful for his enhanced senses as he enjoyed the piquancy of the mixture. 

The comfortable silence stretched on for a while as Logan rolled the flavors around his tongue, staring at the end of his cigar that hung between the fingers of his dangling hand. “When I first came here…” he began, flicking the stogie and watching the ashes blow away in the breeze, “…I was angry and unfocused. I lashed out at everything, like a wounded animal. Hell I WAS a wounded animal.”

“What happened to make you dat way, cher?” Remy tentatively asked, eyes focused on the same point of the cigar as Logan’s, almost as if mesmerized by the light burning at the end of the stick. 

Logan glanced at Remy then turned back to face the wind blowing in from the lake. “Ya gotta understand, Cajun. I don’t really remember much from before I came here. Just bits and pieces. Enough to know it was bad. And very painful.” His free hand picked at the bark of the tree trunk beneath him. Outwardly, his demeanor was calm and accepting, but Remy could feel the turmoil underneath, the mish-mash of emotions that these vague memories were obviously stirring.

So he turned his gaze away from the feral, giving the older man a modicum of privacy as he listened to Logan tell his story. It was hard to hear the underlying pain and loneliness, the overwhelming despair so like his own as Logan shared the events that transpired with the feral’s initial arrival at the institute. It really didn’t come as a shock to Remy to hear the older man had a thing for the red-headed telepath. The Cajun had felt remnants of that once strong bond between the two, though time had changed the love to something more tender, less lustful. What did surprise him was the chaos the obvious love-triangle had caused within the team; chaos so violent as to divide members bitterly. And a team with members at odds became a less effective fighting force against enemies that sought to destroy them. Remy could here the regret in the older man’s voice as he spoke of the near fatal losses the X-men had endured; how the school in turn suffered from lack of enrollment. There was fear, tension, and lack of respect from all; in-fighting breaking out between groups of students on a regular basis. Logan’s berserker rages were frequent and vicious, taking both the Professor and Jean’s talents to subdue him. In the end, Xavier’s dream was nearly destroyed from within before it even had a chance to take root.

It was Jean herself that finally brought an end to the upheavals, with strong backing from Xavier. She had brought both of the men she loved together in the danger room, trapping them within electronic fields and making them both see reason. She broke Logan’s heart when she told him in no uncertain terms that her love first and foremost went to Scott, that he was the other half of her soul. But, she also made it clear to Scott that her choice in no way diminished the feelings she had for the feral. It took many long hours of the three facing off in the danger room before a kind of tenuous peace was forged. Though he was unhappy with her decision, Logan accepted the team leader as Jean’s mate, and without the challenge for her affections the feral was able to concentrate more on the healing he desperately needed. It had taken a lot of hard work to rebuild the cohesion within the team, but forgiveness didn’t mean that Scott had forgotten and, even after all this time, the two Alpha males still rubbed each other the wrong way.

“So, he’s worried that I’m gonna go off the deep end or something now that I seem to be focusing my attentions on you.” Logan gave Remy a wry grin before sticking the cigar in his mouth and puffing.

“Mais, it ain’t de same situation, mon ami. Jus’ cause you and I doing a horizontal tango don’ mean you gonna lose your mind.”

“A horizontal tango?” Logan repeated softly. “Is that what we’re doing?” He turned suddenly towards the Cajun, a serious glint in his eyes. “I don’t get close to many people, Cajun, and I certainly don’t bed ‘em without reason.”

Remy chuckled nervously and turned his gaze back to the waters. What the hell was the man trying to tell him? “What you gon’ on ‘bout, Logan? You trying to tell me you love me or somet’ing?”

“You don’t know?” Logan arched a brow. The question caused Remy to give the feral a sharp look. Had the older man figured out his third mutation? But, he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought when he saw Logan slump slightly and whisper dejectedly. “Perhaps it ain’t meant for someone like me to love.”

Irritation flared in the Cajun and he grabbed Logan by both arms, shaking the older man roughly. Caught by surprise, Logan dropped his stogie and nearly lost his balance on the log. “De hell Logan? Everyone deserve love. Why you go and say somet’ing like dat for, hehn?”

“Everyone I get close to eventually leaves me one way or the other, whether I want them to or not. I’ve been around a long time, Cajun. Too long, in fact. I maybe can’t remember all of my past, but I’m not stupid enough to think it ain’t happened before, and not optimistic enough to think it won’t happen again.” Logan hissed.

“Dat don’ mean you give up, cher.” Remy leaned in and brushed his lips lightly against the older man, tasting the tobacco and flavors that were uniquely Logan. “How dat saying go? When life t’row you lemons, you make lemonade, neh? And you never know, mon ami. Mebbe someone out dere be round to love you long after ot’ers gone.” Almost, Remy revealed the secrets of the Guild; the special brew that ensured abnormal longevity of life, but caught himself before he shared too much.

Logan gave Remy a sad smile, reaching up to cup the younger man’s face. “How ‘bout you, Remy. Can ya say ya love me?”

He froze, caught in those ocean colored orbs as his heart hammered in his chest and he struggled for breath. The last time he had said those words to anyone, he’d lost his adopted family a short time later. Rich, full lips parted then closed, a pink tongue poking out to lick suddenly dry lips as he tried to push sound around the lump in his throat. 

“WOOOOOLFFIEEEEEEEEEEE”

Logan’s head snapped sideways towards the mansion as he heard the distant call of his name. He recognized Jubilee’s voice and knew it wouldn’t be long before she tracked him here. Sliding his gaze back to the panicked ruby eyes, he chuckled and rose to stand beside the boy. “Saved by the shrill, eh kid?” Their gazes locked again briefly before Logan bent down and placed a tender kiss on the Cajun’s high forehead, and strolled off in the direction of their team mate. 

*******

on to part 23

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