WHO: Logan and Remy WHEN: July 13th WHERE: X-Mansion: Woods, Logan's room, Danger Room WHAT: Talk, train and probably traumatize half the school with over-loud sex.
Remy walked, hands shoved into the pockets of his battered old jeans, scuffed work boots kicking a trail through the underbrush. He'd discovered the woods behind the mansion a few days ago and although nature walks weren't really his thing, he'd found that he actually enjoyed the quiet that prevailed out under the trees. And besides that, he knew Fearless Leader wasn't going to come clomping out here and fuck up his expensive loafers or whatever the hell it was that he wore. He was relatively safe, and that was what mattered.
This whole X-Men thing.... he just wasn't sure about it. He wasn't sure about working for someone again, as it hadn't turned out real well the first time. Not that he thought Xavier was anything like his former employer, but you never could tell, could you? And besides that, he wasn't really good enough for this sort of thing. Not good talented, he had that down pat. Good in the heart. Altruistic. He wasn't the hero type, and he was seriously considering just turning tail and bolting.
To be honest, Logan would've been happy just sprawled on the couch in front of the sports channel they apparently got these days since someone'd wired them for cable. He'd've suspected the students but then again, if they'd gotten into illegal cable then the professor probably would've known and just sprung for the damn thing.
But, there he was, wandering through the grounds. He knew pretty much every inch of it, something about extremely fake hunting at the times when he was really bored, and it wasn't difficult to find the kid out there. He'd got his scent down pretty well, oddly enough. He coughed awkwardly, at least giving him some warning he wasn't quite as alone as he thought.
Remy glanced back over his shoulder, a smile already forming on his lips. Yeah, he recognized that cough, weird as that was. That was another thing that was starting to scare him a little. Generally, he was a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, but damned if he didn't enjoy the hell out of Logan's company. That should have put him squarely in Do Not Fuck territory, but... just watching him come down the dim, narrow little path had Remy half ready to jump in the leaves.
"Heya, cher," he murmured, weirdly compelled to keep his voice down out here. "You followin' me now?"
"Only when I got somethin' to say," he said, with a half-smile. "'Sides, you're kinda easy to find." He stayed back a fair distance, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets. "Summers is buggin' the hell outta me 'bout you."
"Easy to find?" Remy snorted and leaned back against a tree, folding his arms defensively across his chest at the mention of Scott's name. Seemed like he wasn't going to get a break from this X-Men crap, even from the one friend he'd made at the mansion. "The fuck does he want?"
"Y'mean aside from bein' a homophobic prick?" He shrugged. "Seems ta think I should be convincin' ya to pull your weight or somethin'. Don't think I'll be doin' that." He was still pissed at Scott for that little gem of a... well, grade-school note-passing. "I'm just out here so's I can say I talked to ya. Just don't piss the guy off too bad, 'kay? That's my job."
"Ahh." Remy squirmed a little and looked away. He was all too familiar with the monster called homophobia and he emphatically did not like to discuss it. Flirting was one thing, fucking another, and admitting to it an entirely different barrel of apples. "'Preciate that," he muttered, squinting and rubbing his back casually against the tree. He didn't look at Logan. "Think I'll be clearin' out soon anyway."
Logan raised his brows. Not that he was particularly surprised but it wasn't like he was looking forward to seeing the kid leave. "Sick'a the place already?"
"Nah. Just don't think I'm cut out for it is all." He managed a smile and shrugged his shoulders. "Can't see me in one of them pretty costumes, y'know? Bein' a hero." Remy snorted derisively and reached out, tweaking the tip of Logan's nose gently. "Not like you, cher."
"Think ya could manage it, personally," he said, with a snort at that tweak of his nose, a roll of his eyes. "If I can do this crap then I'm bettin' even you can. S'just a matter'a... acclimatizing."
"Yeah." Remy flopped to the ground and stared at his feet, trying hard not to come across as a sulky kid and feeling that he was failing miserably at it. "Everybody here... they just so good, you know? Shiny an' white." He grabbed a pinecone, charged it, pitched it hard at a tree. They'd probably hear the explosion at the mansion. Great.
Logan shook his head, faintly amused, and dropped down next to him, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. "I look shiny an' white ta you, kid?" he asked, reaching over and tugging at his jacket. "You just gotta know how ta handle these guys. An' take lotsa walks, which I'm seein' you've gotten the hang of already."
Remy snorted and swatted at Logan's hand, and somehow ended up grabbing it instead. Christ Almighty damn, he had been brought low. "You tryin' to talk me into stayin'? Wolverine?" Idly, he flipped over Logan's hand and studied the lines on his palm. Some crazy old coot in the French Quarter had forever been reading his palm, muttering dire predictions at him. He'd picked up some of it. Not enough to make sense of anything, but enough to know which line was which.
"Think I am, yeah." He chuckled, mostly at himself, resting his head back against the tree trunk as he let Remy do whatever the hell he was doing with his hand. He guessed he didn't mind having the kid around, made the place that much more interesting and if it just so happened to piss off their fearless leader, well. So much the better. "You gonna tell me my fortune or somethin'?"
"Nah," Remy said, dropping Logan's hand and sighing softly. "Don' actually know how to do that shit. Sometimes I pretend, make a few extra bucks." He'd done plenty of things to make a few extra bucks over the years. Reading palms was probably the most harmless. "You think I oughta stick around, huh?"
"Shame," he said, giving his hand a rub, over his palm. "They tell me I got a real long lifeline." He took a breath, turning his head against the tree to look at him. He'd done some pretty stupid crap to make ends meet himself, though most of it amounted to bodyguarding, mercenary shit. "Yeah, I think you oughta stick around. There's worse places ta be and I'd know, I've been ta most of 'em."
"You an' me both, cher," Remy answered ruefully. His daddy had always told him that he was mean like a dog, and a flash of that meanness struck him now. His lips thinned and he kicked a rock away, trying to hold back the unkind words that bubbled up in his throat. Logan didn't really deserve to bear the brunt of his frustrations. "Nice for you, too, havin' an easy fuck around, eh?"
Great, LeBeau, just fucking brilliant.
"Think it's easy?" He raised his brows, wiping his hands free of bits of leaf on the thighs of his jeans. He hadn't come here for an argument, he'd gotten enough of that from Scott. "What-the-fuck-ever, kid. I ain't some uptight jackass you can bait with that shit."
"No, guess not," Remy answered softly, glancing over at him. "Sorry. I been... tense lately, I suppose." He closed his eyes and tried not to think. It would have worked better had there been a bottle of liquor in his hand. "Don' know what to do with myself." That meanness was still there, though, gnawing at him.
"Well, I'm gonna go out on a limb here an' say clearin' off's not gonna help ya much." He reached over, tugging lightly at Remy's jacket again, about as comforting as he knew how to be. "Stick around, do some trainin'. See if this place suits ya. Think ya'd be surprised and besides. Nice for ya, havin' an easy fuck around, huh?"
Remy laughed at that and, allowing himself a small concession, leaned over and rested his head against Logan's shoulder. "That ain't true an' you know it," he teased. "You the hardest damn fuck I ever had, cher."
Logan snickered, shifting to wrap a faintly awkward arm around the kid's shoulders before he really thought about what he was doing. Not that he actually changed his mind once he did. "Seems like Emma's car knows it, too," he said, thoroughly amused. "An' that right there's just one'a the fuckin' amazin' things you'd be missin' out on if ya walk out right now."
Strangely reassured by the arm around his shoulders, Remy pushed close against Logan's side. It had been a while since anyone had offered him physical comfort not of the sexual variety, and he felt both bemused and slightly awkward. "Hate to break it to you, handsome, but that car is done for."
"Who says I'm talkin' 'bout the car?" He flashed him a knowing look then rested his head back against the tree again. This whole thing was just completely bizarre, but pretty much everything had been since he'd gotten the call to come back on in. "'Sides, I'm bettin' that car's back on the road in a month. Emma's got contacts the rest'a us mere mortals only dream about."
"So she's hinted," Remy said wryly. She hadn't seemed too horribly pissed off about the car, anyway, so he wasn't terribly worried about it. Besides Logan, she was the only person at the mansion that he'd managed to connect with in any meaningful way. "This mean I get to sleep under your bed from now on?"
"Under it?" He shrugged slightly, shifting his arm to toy with the hair at the back of Remy's neck. "Fuck, sleep in it. I sleep so heavy nuclear war could break out in the city and I'd sleep through till my skin burned off. But I'm thinkin' yer not lookin' for a roommate."
"Already got one of them," Remy answered, lips twisting in irritation. He ducked his head forward, giving Logan free access to the back of his neck as he contemplated. Had that been an offer or just more talk? It was hard to tell with Logan. "Don't need another. Didn't sound like you were offerin' to be a roommate, though." He laughed sharply.
"Guess not, you already got one and I know ya love that," he said, trailing the nails of one hand over the nape of Remy's neck. He had fuck all idea of what he was doing, frankly, practically telling the kid to leave his irritating roomie just 'cause Logan slept like the dead. "But ya get sick'a the one ya got, come by my room. Won't even jump ya in the middle'a the night."
"I'm already sick of the one I got," Remy said softly, shivering a little. Goosebumps rose up on his arms, and he arched his back easily. "Might take you up on that tonight, cher." Christ, when was the last time he'd slept in the same bed as someone? Probably... probably back in New Orleans. Bella. Grimacing and laughing at the same time, he twisted out from under Logan's hands and hunched his shoulders up uncomfortably. "Feel like I oughta tell ya a few things, though. If you're gonna take me in like that." He cleared his throat and looked over at Logan, face twisted in a pained smile.
He raised his brows, still toying with the back of Remy's neck. Interesting - he was pretty sure he'd just gotten himself into sharing his bed for the night, not that it mattered much, he told himself. Though when he thought back he had trouble remembering the last time anyone'd stayed in his room wherever the hell he was. Then the kid pulled away; he eyed him, brows still raised. "What, you're married? You got a girl in New Orleans? Don't tell me - you're Magneto in disguise."
"No, you got it the first time, cher," he answered miserably. "Married when I was back home, barely got outta my honeymoon, an' I killed her brother." It wasn't really important why he'd done it, and he didn't want to elaborate on it regardless. "Ain't seen her since. For all I know, she went and got herself another husband." He cleared his throat and looked at Logan, expression guarded. "Thought you oughta know, though."
He stayed quiet for a moment, mulling this over; yeah, so it was a hell of a tale, fuckin' Lifetime movie or whatever the hell those things he caught in the afternoons were when he lost the remote. "So you're tellin' me I'm meant ta take one look at ya an' run screamin'?" he asked. "'Cause hell, if the worst news ya got is a wife you ain't seen since forever then that ain't no news at all."
"Oh no, cher, that ain't the worst of it," Remy laughed, leaning back against Logan. "That's the easiest part. Just wanted you know, case she shows up. She's..." He cleared his throat, looking for a good way to say 'batshit insane and crazy jealous'. "She's possessive, is all." He stroked Logan's big thigh, dragging his nails across his jeans with a quiet rasp. "She was, at least."
"An' ya think I'd have trouble fendin' her off?" He snorted, ruffling the kid's hair in what was almost an affectionate gesture. "Think you're forgettin' who you're talkin' to."
"Didn't know if you'd bother or not," he answered, aware after the fact that it made him sound kind of small and pathetic. He grimaced and closed his eyes, kicking his feet out and laying across Logan's chest. Lord only knew what was wrong with him lately.
"I figure anyone blows up the car'a the most dangerous gal around this place deserves the attention." He chuckled, wrapping an arm over Remy's chest. "Don't tell me no one ever cared enough ta kick ya crazy wife out on her ass. Hell, I'd do it just fer kicks."
"No one ever much cared for me 'cept her," he admitted. "Had one fella that followed me around, but he was just tryin' to scare me. You know." He shivered, thinking about it. Creed was a chapter of his life that he didn't particularly care to revisit. "Total bastard, an' he healed too fast for me to ever do any damage."
Logan frowned, his shoulders tensing. That sounded entirely too familiar for comfort, a bit too close to home, considering. "Yeah, I got a couple stories like that," he said. "Not ta mention how ya could put a bullet in my skull an' that ain't gonna kill me." He sighed, shook his head faintly. "Freakin' ya out yet, kid?"
"Nope," Remy answered, but he frowned a little. "Saw that happen to him once. Just shook it off like it wasn't nothin'." He twisted around and looked up at Logan, studying his face carefully. Aside from that admission, though, there was nothing about Logan that reminded him of Creed, and he relaxed again. "Funny, that. Guess there's bound to be repeats, though."
"Guess so. Always weird as hell, though, makes me wonder if I been somewhere an' done somethin' I don't remember. Fuck knows there's a lotta that." He shrugged again, settling his arm back around Remy's waist. "Or some old fuckin' nemesis or somethin', y'know? I got plenty. Only one ever did what I do, though."
"Yeah?" Remy almost laughed at that word. Nemesis. It was so... well, so superhero. But he supposed he was gonna be one of those soon enough, so he'd better get used to the word. "You can have your nemesis, cher. Me, I wanna stay far away from mine." He considered, then snorted softly. "Wouldn't really call Creed a nemesis, though. Just a fuckin' psycho."
Logan tensed, that arm around Remy's waist tightening considerably at that name and his jaw clenched. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. Seemed like nothing in his life was ever just his that that asshole hadn't touched. "Victor Creed," he said, practically growled.
"Yeah," Remy whispered, tensing as well. "Calls himself Sabretooth." He cleared his throat and pushed at Logan's arm. "You chokin' me out, cher. Settle." Damn. He should have just kept that to himself.
He let out the breath he'd held for some undoubtedly illogical reason and his arm jerked loose, shifting down, hand pressing lightly over Remy's stomach, rubbing like some weird kind of apology though this wasn't the time for that. "Guess ya could say I know the guy," he said, carefully. "Gonna tell me how you know him?"
Remy ducked his head and bit the insides of his cheeks so hard that they bled. "Don't wanna," he said, low and hushed. "Guess I oughta, though." He flicked his fingers through the leaves, wondering what the best way to word this was. The knowledge of Bella hadn't scared Logan off him, but he was almost certain that this would.
"I owed some favors to a guy," he said slowly. "Wanted me to go recruit some mutants for a mission, so I did. Creed was one of 'em. After that... I took off. Couldn't stomach it, favors or no." Logan hadn't asked for a detailed explanation and Remy wasn't inclined to give one unless pressed.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I don't wanna know what for." He wrapped the other arm around Remy's waist to join the other, one hand taking the wrist of the other. "I can guess. Was never anythin' good. Fuck, stick around me long enough an' it's likely enough you'll see him again." He sighed, forcing all that Sabretooth crap right the fuck back out of his head. He wasn't having that. Every year on his goddamn birthday was bad enough. "I still ain't runnin'. That all ya got?"
Remy smiled a little and tipped his head back, planting a soft kiss on Logan's jaw. "That's about it," he admitted. "Got a few more skeletons, me, but ain't nothin' to worry about right now." He sighed softly and closed his eyes. All of the earlier uncertainty had drained right out of him. Logan wanted him to stay? Fine, he would stay. It was good to have a reason to be someplace. "You still gonna let me move in?" he teased.
"Bring ya stuff, kid," he said; he shifted slightly, ran one hand up over the line of Remy's throat, fingertips brushing his jaw, before he dropped it back down to his waist. "We'll see if it winds up in the closet or out the window, soakin' under the lawn sprinklers."
"Comforting," Remy said dryly, but he honestly was. At least now there was somewhere he could retreat without being interrupted by a stranger. He tipped his head back and sighed softly, a little shiver running down his spine as Logan's hand dropped away. "You're too nice to me, cher."
***
It'd been a hell of a long time, longer than Logan could actually remember though that wasn't saying much, since he'd actually shared a room for reasons that weren't related to a) low communal funds on the road, or b) sex. Now, technically he guessed this fell into the latter category in at least a couple of ways, but once his own untidily-stowed stuff was joined by Remy's and he'd started considering which side of the bed this meant was his... it was getting to be a really odd experience. Not necessarily bad odd, but when the last time he'd had a roommate at the mansion was, he didn't know.
So, there he was, stretched out on the bed finishing up a cigar, wondering how to spend the rest of his day. He'd taken the younger recruits out for a run through the woods but that'd just left him with more pent-up energy than he'd had before. Some real training was looking good right about then. So he hauled himself up off the bed and decided to go check out the Danger Room, see if he'd be interrupting class if he went on in. He turned before exiting the room, shook his head at himself then went to stick his head round the en suite bathroom door here he guessed the kid was dumping the last of his stuff.
"I'm thinkin' 'bout some time down in the Danger Room, kid," he told him. "You wanna come with?"
Remy had, in fact, been sitting in the bathroom digging through the cupboard, increasingly fascinated by the shit he was finding. It was like an archaeological dig in there, endless strata of obscure and strange personal hygiene products spilling out from under the sink with every swipe of his hand. By the time Logan walked in, he was up to his knees in bottles and bags and containers, and he looked up guiltily.
"Um." He smiled, hoping that he looked innocent enough to avoid getting kicked out already. "I was just... How'd you fit all this under there?"
couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, guess ya found my guilty secret," he said, jabbing a finger in the direction of the copious amounts of random crap crammed into and overflowing the cupboard. "It's like fuckin' Jenga in there. Just leave it, I'll toss it later."
Remy frowned and attempted to extract himself from the mess he'd made. "Sorry, cher," he muttered, grabbing Logan's forearm and hauling himself to his feet. "Didn't mean to make such a fuckin' mess." He grinned again, kissed the corner of Logan's mouth, and slipped past him into the room. "Now what was that? Danger Room? Don't sound real pleasant, that."
"C'mon, you're tellin' me ya been here how long an' ya ain't seen the Danger Room?" He shook his head sadly, abandoning the wreck of a bathroom and worry about later and following him back through into the bedroom. "Hell, not wonder Summers's got it in fer ya. C'mon, kid, I'll give ya your first... session." He smiled, maybe a little wickedly, folding his arms over his chest.
Remy turned, surprised by the tone in Logan's voice, and laughed. "Look at you," he teased, slinking back across the room. His fingers tangled in Logan's shirt and tugged gently. "You wanna gimme a session, give it to me right here..." He vaguely recalled Scott mentioning something about a Danger Room, but he hadn't actually paid attention. Whatever it was, he was sure it could wait.
Arms went around Remy's waist, hands dipping into the back pockets of his jeans, and he leaned up to press a quick kiss to his jaw. "C'mon. Serious now, I gotta getcha into that room. Just to piss off Summers when he comes round askin' again. Jackass never lets up, s'pose that's leadership qualities or whatever." He didn't look terribly convinced about that, however, but the fact that he did pull back did at least probably mean he was serious.
Remy sighed and gripped Logan's chin, giving him a little shake before stepping away. "Right, then," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Beat me up so you got bruises to poke later, is that it?" He grinned to show he was teasing, but he wasn't too sure that he would protest all that much if Logan did just that.
"We'll see." Logan quirked a brow over his shoulder as he headed for the door.
Didn't take long to get down there, a few kinda winding corridors but it wasn't exactly the first time Logan had been down there. He'd been stuck with training the kids and training Paige, not to mention he kinda liked the place himself just to tear the holy everlasting hell outta something every now and then. Scott seemed to have this thing about Proper Attire in the Danger Room At All Times but Logan had stopped caring about the rules pretty much as soon as he'd heard them; all he did was shuck his shirt, leaving on the white tanktop underneath, before he brought himself up a scenario: traditional little Japanese village, fucking swarming with ninja.
"Go nuts, kid," he said, gesturing, then popping out his claws in anticipation. "Ain't nothin' real in here 'cept you an' me, go ahead and blow shit up to your heart's content."
Remy tore his eyes away from Logan's chest and smiled sweetly. "Sure thing, handsome," he agreed, reaching into his pocket and freeing his playing cards. The whole thing seemed a bit stupid to him; why would you waste your time playing around in some stupid holographic chamber or whatever this thing was? But it wasn't his place to bitch about things, he supposed. He fitted three cards between the fingers of each hand and arched an eyebrow. "Let's go."
Logan grinned, a little vicious around the edges, and turned, taking off at a run. The strange pre-programmed ninjas were set to his level, the original training program written by who-the-fuck-ever tampered with to give Logan a little something to occupy his time - nevertheless, one running jump and a quick slash of both clawed hands and the first apparently not-real ninja collapsed to the ground in a twitching mess of blood that managed to splash all down Logan's arm. Damn if this wasn't realistic sometimes. He turned his sights on a second, this one with a sword in its hand; he fished the katana from the guy on the floor and stepped forward, glancing back at Remy. "You comin' or ya just gonna watch? Hell, kid, I know I'm pretty but this is ridiculous."
Remy flicked a card, aiming it carefully over Logan's shoulder and catching another black-clad ninja right between the eyes. The card went off with a loud bang and the fake man crumpled, half his face blown away. "Don' see the point," he explained, swaggering over to Logan and grinning. "Killin' fake ninjas?" If his hands hadn't been full of cards, he would have patted Logan on the ass. "But if it makes you happy, lead the way."
"Been a while since I had any real ninjas to kill," he said, managing to sound faintly rueful. "The point's givin' me somethin' ta do with my time that Summers don't bitch about an' you get outta the fuckin' naughty corner." He smirked and swung the sword, twirling it not quite casually, aware it looked like he was showing off and hey, maybe he was. He pulled back in the claw and went for the next three at the same time, breaking out the martial arts rather than heading straight for the kill. It was curiously satisfying to hack one of them off at the knee. "'Sides, does make me happy." He grinned back over at Remy, a little bloodied around the edges, as he introduced his fist to the second's jaw, hearing the break.
Remy hung back a little longer, trying to convince himself that this wasn't going to hurt anything and it wasn't going to give him screaming nightmares, but after talking about Creed earlier in the day and seeing all this fucking blood... Well, he just hoped that Logan really did sleep as soundly as he claimed.
Sighing, biting his lips, he followed after Logan. Cards flew from his fingers and exploded in vivid bursts of violet against walls and the ground and, more often than not, imaginary ninjas. It had been a while since he'd had to duck and weave quite so much and, embarrassingly, his shirt was soaked with sweat in no time.
This was fun. Okay, a really fucking twisted kind of fun but that summed up Logan's approach to life, more or less, and besides, the kid was getting into it. Kinda. He watched him between quick and not-so-quick dispatches, eventually abandoning the katana in favor of using his claws again - felt more hands-on that way and besides which, it wasn't like he usually went out carrying a sword.
"Doin' okay over there, kid?" he called, with a grin at the state his little training program had gotten him into. This was harder than it looked - fake ninjas or no, it was a workout, and Logan had to say he was pretty impressed with the way Remy handled it. He got him down here a couple of times a week and he'd be in decent, almost X-Mannish shape in no time. Which he guessed was kinda what Summers'd been getting at, damnit.
"Holdin' up!" he called, back pressed against the wall of a little house. His lungs felt a bit tight, which he supposed was because he smoked too much. Which, naturally, made him want to smoke more. He ducked out from behind the wall, threw three cards, hit with two, then used his free hand to fish out a pack of cigarettes. "Not havin' as much fun as you, I'm thinkin'!" He lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, wondering how long it would take for Summers to show up and start frowning.
Maybe thirty more seconds and Logan had the last of them downed; he popped his claws through the ninja's throat, signaling the end of the program. It went ahead and dematerialized around them, leaving a vaguely sweaty and extremely contented Logan looking over in the direction of Remy and his cigarette - he couldn't bring himself to tell him what Summers'd make of that, smoking in the Danger Room. He walked over instead, wrangled the cigarette from Remy's hand and took a drag before handing it back.
"See, was that that bad?" he asked him, and leaned in conspiratorially, taking a very obvious sniff. "Ya smell like ya could use a shower."
Remy tangled a hand in Logan's shirt and yanked him closer. "You wanna give me a bath?" he teased. "You guys even got a bath game in here?" Part of him almost hoped that Logan said yes, if only because it would make Scott scream bloody fucking murder. "Or you gonna make me go back to the room for that?"
And then, just in case someone was watching, he leaned in close and drew the tip of his tongue along the curve of Logan's lower lip.
"Pretty sure I could come up with somethin'," he said, glancing around the now empty room. Should've kept up the program, he thought, nice little Japanese village had a nice little bathhouse. He stepped in a bit closer, slipping both arms around and rolling his eyes as his fingers found wet shirt - fine, then, he dropped them down further to rest against the curve of Remy's ass. It was all very well coming down there to train for a while but he wasn't going to be putting the kid through any more of it right now and he could've gone another hour or so himself before he actually felt like he'd had enough. That pent-up energy just felt worse right then, brutally unsatisfied, and that was his excuse for reaching up and tugging him into a hard kiss.
Not that it lasted long. With a nip to Remy's bottom lip he pulled back, tucking a couple of fingers into the beltloops of his jeans to yank him in against him. "Don't know about you, kid, but I got another couple rounds in me," he said, glancing around. Yeah, so there were cameras in the room, trained on them. He was just finding it pretty hard to care.
Remy purred in his throat, dragging his nails across Logan's shoulders. The way the scratches knitted up almost as soon as he made them still fascinated him, and he pushed up against Logan with a soft growl. "Think I can manage a bit more," he murmured. His fingers laced through Logan's hair and he tugged hard, snapping Logan's head back. "But only if you push me."
Okay, so the kid was trying to tear him open; Logan could apparently live with that, the way he opened up his shoulders though the set of scrapes healed almost instantaneously. That didn't mean it didn't smart any, and Logan growled lowly. "'Less ya want me ta toss ya down on the ground right here, ya best not do that, kid."
"What makes you think I don't?" Remy purred. His nails dug into Logan's chest just below his collarbone and he grinned, broad and wicked. "There's cameras in here, yeah? Why don' we give Fearless Leader a nice show..." He knew Logan would never go for it, but if there were cameras, there were bound to be voice recorders. Scott would at least know that they'd considered it, and that was enough for Remy.
"You're thinkin' I'm scared'a a little showin' off for the cameras, right?" he asked, with a smirk as the marks over his collarbone faded, too. "I been caught doin' all kindsa stuff I shouldn't round here, kid, and I'm pretty sure I get bonus points fer makin' ya see the inside'a the Danger Room. So don't tempt me. Get your ass back upstairs."
Remy laughed softly and leaned in close, biting at Logan's lower lip before stepping away. "Fine," he answered. "You win, cher. But just this time." He lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers at the ceiling of the Danger Room, assuming that that was where the cameras would be. "Better be quick, though. I might get bored and start without you."
He laughed, exiting the room close behind with a smirk up at where he knew the cameras were. No doubt someone would be checking up on him, Remy if not Logan. Apparently Logan himself had the official seal of approval with all the training sessions he was running and he'd better damn well have considering how he seemed to be working harder than anyone else in the damn place. "You're gonna wait for me," he said, falling into step. "Trust me, I gotta show ya how ta work the shower right or you'll be showerin' in freezin' water."
"Shower?" Remy scowled and shoved Logan. He didn't go very far, of course, but it was the gesture that counted. "I ain't goin' back upstairs for a shower, cher, I tell you that right now." As if to emphasize his point, he reached down and adjusted himself. It was a casual gesture, something he didn't even realize he was doing, but if Scott saw him grabbing himself in the halls, he'd have kittens. The thought brought a little smirk to Remy's face.
Well, two could play at that game; Logan nudged him in the side, his considerable advantage in weight enough to knock him faintly off balance and he took advantage of that, turning quickly and pressing him up against the wall of the corridor - one hand came down, pressing there solidly between the kid's legs, giving him a tight little squeeze. "Sure ya are," he told him, pulling back his hand but only to yank down his fly, fingers slipping in to wrap around him. The Danger Room schedule had it free for another, he was pretty sure they were safe. "There's room fer two in the shower, kid. Ya think I'm just packin' ya off with a bottle'a shampoo an' sayin' go make yerself pretty?"
Remy moaned, knees going weak and watery as Logan's thick fingers slipped inside his jeans. "Not fair," he whispered, but there was a huge smile on his face, and his fingers tangled in Logan's hair, pulling him close and urging him on. "Can't take advantage of me like this..." Laughter bubbled up in his throat so that he was barely able to finish the sentence, much less go on to protest his innocence.
Apparently, nothing of what Logan was doing struck the kid as a bad deal, so he didn't stop. Despite the fact he really had been intending to get upstairs and fast he was pretty happy to shift his hand and pop open the button at the waist of Remy's jeans to give himself better access to stroke him slowly. "Sure I can," he said, with a smile as he leaned in close, mouth grazing Remy's jaw then nipping hard at his earlobe. "But it ain't takin' advantage if ya want it, kind, I'm pretty sure." His hand dipped down further, gave the kid's balls a quick, careful squeeze like all this was just a promise of things to come, then pulled back completely. "Comin'?" he asked, with an amused smirk. "That shower ain't gettin' any closer."
"Oughta blow your jeans off," Remy growled. He pushed himself off the wall, buttoning his jeans up and groaning softly as his fingertips brushed his own swollen prick. It was going to be deeply unpleasant to walk back upstairs now, but hell, he would have followed Logan all the way through the woods and back to feel that hand again. "See how ya like walkin' with no pants on..."
He cast a look back over his shoulder, amused. "Think I ain't done worse?" he asked, with a shrug. "There's a reason I got this reputation an' it sure ain't all talk." He didn't elaborate, however, just mounted the stairs and led the way up, past the ground floor and up to the corridors where the bedrooms were all situated. His own, which he guessed technically wasn't his own anymore considering how Remy now had just as much random crap in there as he did, discounting the billion years of hair products and shit under the sink... well. He fished the key from his pocket and let them both in, shedding his shirt and undershirt, boots, on the way into the bathroom to turn on the shower. "Get your ass in here, kid," he called. "I want ya out of those jeans."
Remy obeyed with alacrity, flinging clothes to either side as he followed Logan into the bathroom. By the time he got there, he was thoroughly naked and grinning like a fool. "Logan, my friend, you are without a doubt the hairiest man I've ever fucked," he declared, sitting down on the toilet seat and watching Logan as he bent over the shower controls. "But you surely do have a fantastic ass."
By the time Remy came through into the bathroom, the shower was on and Logan was setting about testing the temperature, not that he was a great judge considering it could've half melted the skin from his bones and it wouldn't've made much difference to him. He snorted, shook his head, looking Remy over rather slowly, head to toe. "Pretty sure hairy ain't a compliment," he said, popping open the buttons at the front of his jeans then sliding them down, stepping out of them. "Fantastic ass I can live with though." He stepped over, tilted up Remy's chin, tucked his hair back. Fuck, the kid was gorgeous, and that was not something he caught himself thinking often. He chuckled, bent to kiss him then stepped back, attempting to tug him along. "Shower's waitin', kid. Ya smell like a high school locker room."
"You ain't no great shakes either, handsome," Remy laughed, swatting Logan on the ass and climbing into the shower. He shivered a bit and reached down, cranking up the hot water until his skin was flushed bright pink. "Better," he sighed. "Like a good, hot shower, me." He stretched, pressed his back against the tiles, and smiled at Logan. "Y'know, I think this might be the first time I ever shared a shower sober."
"Can't say I can remember the last time I did, either," he admitted with a shrug, stepping in and closing the door behind him. A second's pause, apparently still pretty content to look him over, and he stepped in, pressed him back against those tiles, hands moving over slick skin as the spray drenched them both. He pushed his own wet hair back, not caring what ridiculous angles it caught, hands finally settling at Remy's hips as he pressed against him. "I'm not thinkin' that's a complaint on your end, though. Right?"
"Not at all," Remy murmured, arching against Logan. He was so solid, so fucking heavy, and it made Remy feel strangely safe. He had on several occasions entertained the rather dangerous prospect of antagonizing Logan, of trying to make him jealous. He wasn't entirely certain what would happen if he somehow succeeded, but in his half-formed fantasy world there was a lot of rough sex. "Just like it when you touch me, cher."
He rested there, pressed in on one forearm as he let the other hand move over him - all that warm, wet skin was too much not to touch, somehow, raking his nails over Remy's ribs, down to his hip, then tugging him forward to fit both arms around his waist, hands dipping down to the curve of his ass. "Fuckin' strange, I like it when I touch you too." He smiled, rather self-satisfied, gave the kid's ass a squeeze then brought one hand back around to tease lightly along the length of him. "Seems like you're really likin' it, though."
"Could say the same about you," Remy murmured, sneaking a hand between them. His fingers dragged up Logan's erection, and he couldn't quite stifle his whimper of pleasure. Christ, Logan was big! Remy bit his lower lip and wriggled back against the wall, fitting his ass against Logan's big hand. "Or you get this excited for everyone?"
"Guess maybe I'm easy to please," he said, with a smile at that whimper as he rocked forward against Remy's hand. "Pleasin' me right, though... right now you got a monopoly on that, kid." He dropped his mouth to the crook of Remy's neck, sucking a little, teeth grazing, tasting his skin lazily as his hands shifted; the fingers of one traced the crack of Remy's ass without any real intent, the other stroking him, slowly. "I take it that ain't a complaint, either? 'Cause if it is you got a funny way'a showin' it." He gave his erection a purposeful squeeze.
Remy gasped and rose up on his toes, hips hitching forward as Logan's fingers tightened around his cock. "Dunno what you're talkin' about," he said, amused by the breathless sound of his own voice. "Never got any complaints about you..." He twisted forward, wrapping his arms securely around Logan's broad shoulders; the shower was getting a little bit too slippery and he was getting a little bit too eager.
"You better not," he said, practically purred though he knew how ridiculous that sounded on him, right up by Remy's ear. "I don't take criticism well." He snickered, teeth latching onto Remy's collarbone just lightly before moving on to the hollow at the base of his throat. Christ, he was like some fucking horny teen, not that that was anything new of course but the part where he was enjoying the same partner more than a couple of times together, well. That was pretty strange even for him. Pretty easy to dismiss, however.
He pulled back, one last stroke of Remy's cock before he took a step back and away from him. "Go ahead, turn round," he said, the smile more than a little lascivious.
"Yes, sir," Remy purred, twisting around. He draped his arms above his head, bracing against the cool tile wall, and spread his legs slightly. His back arched easily, hips pushing out; it looked as though every part of him was begging to be touched, and he entertained himself by guessing where Logan's hands would fall first.
Well, the options were limitless now he had the kid all spread out in front of him like some kind of obscene porno like they got in those cheap motels he stayed in from time to time. And, well, he was spoiled for choice - where'd he start first? He reached over, fingers starting out at the base of his neck and trailing down the long line of his spine, following the path of water right down. Next both hands slipped to his hips and he shifted in closer, squeezing, letting the tip of his own erection brush oh so very accidentally against the kid's ass - maybe their heights were kinda mismatched for that but fuck it, he'd make it work if it came to it. Closer still, cock pressed to the small of Remy's back as he wrapped one arm around his waist, palm pressed flat to his stomach as he pressed his mouth to the back of his neck, bit down lightly. He had to stop marking the poor kid or he'd start to look like a fucking human chewtoy and it was gonna be bad enough explaining he'd got him staying in his room without that coming up, too. Then his free hand shifted too, came down to the kid's ass, squeezed before slipping down, wet, to nudge with two wide fingers at the tight ring of muscle between. "Still regrettin' takin' a shower with me?"
"No," Remy answered, and his voice came out as a desperate, breathless squeak that brought a flush of embarrassed color to his cheeks. Christ, you'd think he was a fucking virgin the way he was acting, gasping and squealing and pushing back like he'd never been touched before. "Never..." Logan's fingers pressing up against him, teasingly close to pushing in, made him want to scream in frustration. "C'mon, don' play with me," he begged. "Jus' do it.."
He snickered, mouth pressed to the back of Remy's shoulder then, his own body and that hand at his stomach holding him in place as he did pretty much just what he was asked; he pressed forward with two wet fingers, pushing inside in one slow though not terribly careful thrust. Maybe too much at one time but he was pretty confident the kid could take it and probably enjoy the hell outta it, too. He did at least have the decency to pause then, two fingers pushed into him as far as they'd go and with the size of his hands that was pretty damn far. His cock practically twitched at the thought of following, but that was getting ahead of himself. "That what ya wanted?" he asked, voice low by Remy's ear. "Got more if ya want it."
"More!" Remy was practically sobbing now, fist slamming against the hard tiles as he fucked his hips back against Logan's thick fingers. They burned and ached inside him in the most delicious way possible, filling and stretching and driving him completely insane. Logan was evil to tease him, evil to do anything but throw him down and fuck him until he couldn't breathe anymore, and he loved it. If it hadn't been fucking torturous, he wasn't sure he'd ever have come back for more.
"Really, more?" Logan grinned, teeth worrying the back of Remy's shoulder as he pulled back his fingers, pressed them back in in a short, sharp thrust angled to graze his prostate. Christ, the way he moved, the way he sounded... he bit down at his shoulder 'cause that was all he could do to keep from burying himself in him to the hilt and teasing be damned. Would've been so simple, too, 'cept he wanted to see more of this.
He shifted his mouth to the center of Remy's back, just pressed it there as he started to thrust with those fingers inside him, nice and slow and deep and hard. He slipped his free hand back around, gave the kid's ass a quick squeeze 'cause really, far too tempting, and his mouth dropped down further, he dropped down further, sucking, biting, leaving a trail of little red marks down the length of his spine that probably wouldn't be there by the morning but right now stood out pretty bold against his skin. He dropped to his knees, smirking at himself and what he was doing, leaned in and quite deliberately bit one firm cheek, not managing to keep from snickering as he kept on shifting those fingers.
Then he shifted again, free hand spreading him further, mouth trailing down to join those fingers. Yeah, so it was fucking obscene, yeah so the kid'd probably have a nervous fucking breakdown or run for the fucking hills it was so strange, but there it was - he pressed his tongue there, teasing ever bit as much as his fingers did.
Had he thought he was making embarrassing sounds before? Bullshit. The scream that ripped its way out of his throat when Logan's tongue joined his fingers was desperate, needy, shocked, everything that he'd always kept hidden while fucking. He loved the act, loved the feelings that it brought, but God Almighty, he'd never in his life been able to let go so completely.
His nails scrabbled against the slick tile and he wished desperately that there was something for him to hold onto, something to bite down on. His entire body was shaking, flooded with incredibly sensation, and all he could do was rut back against Logan and claw at his own forearms, sobbing under his breath and begging for more in a slurring confusion of French and English.