James "Logan" Howlett (bringitonbub) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2013-05-26 20:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | james "logan" howlett, jean grey |
Who: Logan & Jean Grey
When: May 19th
Where: Logan’s hotel room in Hawaii
What: Drinking and talking and a little depressing and playing if you show me yours.
Rating: PG-13 - Some swearing and underage drinking.
Jean wasn’t much of a drinker, so her reasoning for agreeing to come over to Logan’s room for exactly that didn’t take a leap of logic to figure out. She hardly knew anyone here and he was easy on the eyes, simple as that. Or maybe not so simple as that, since he wasn’t particularly forthcoming and that only intrigued her to an annoying degree. But this was all still so very far out of her comfort zone that Jean’s feet dragged a little as she neared room 205. Huffing a breath to calm her suddenly, stupidly unsteady nerves, Jean ruffled her fingers through her hair and glanced back the way she’d come. It wasn’t that far back to the elevator. She could run back to her room and come up with some excuse. But then she’d have to spend another night alone in a hotel room wishing for home and frankly, she was tired of being that girl. Whether she was here for another day or another year, she was going to find a way to settle in and make friends. Logan may as well be the first. Taking the last few steps, she knocked with a quickly mustered bit of self-confidence and schooled her face into a relaxed smile. She got there quicker than he was expecting, though it didn’t help that Logan didn’t often move quickly unless he was ducking out of the way or in a fight. And his hotel room wasn’t exactly the tidiest. He hadn’t expected his offer to get picked up on, and instead of making himself look “decent”, he opted for straightening things around the room, like throwing the covers back on his bed, and making sure his laundry pile was shoved in the small closet at the front side of the hotel room. He didn’t have much, anyway, which didn’t help the already spartan hotel room look any less lively, and Logan really didn’t have it in him to care. He did, however, have a small booze stash that anyone else his age would’ve killed for. And he was more than fine sharing with an attractive redhead, even if she wanted to poke around his history. The knock had him rushing around and trying to find a clean shirt before he answered the door, but he was torn with not wanting to make her wait long. Logan snagged a shirt in the few steps it took to get there and flipped it open quickly and held it open with his foot while he slipped the shirt over his head. “You walk damn fast, Red.” Having the door open to a surprising flash of skin resulted in Jean gaping for a second before turning her head to hide an embarrassed smile behind her hand. The opposite wall of the hallway wasn’t as good of a view, but at least it let her blush die down to subtle before she swiveled an awkward smile back his direction. “I gave you more the thirty seconds I promised, Logan.” It was tempting to ask if he’d done that on purpose, but she wasn’t quite that gutsy in the moment. Instead, she sidestepped him to enter the room and let her eyes adjust to the dimmer lights. His room looked about as empty as hers, which was a constant source of homesickness for her, but something told Jean it probably didn’t bother him nearly as much. “Maybe you need to work on your time-management skills,” she joked lamely, turning the self-deprecating eyeroll that followed away from his line of sight. Logan was completely oblivious to her blushing and glancing away, or any look she gave him. He just pulled the tshirt down with a tug and grunted at her time comment. Who the hell needed time management? Things either got done or they didn’t. Nobody had any business worrying about it in the meantime. He let the door close behind her with a soft click and peeked a quick glance at her frame when she stepped past him. “We gonna stand around talkin’ about time or actually get down to business?” He should’ve been embarrassed if she caught him glancing down her lower back and lingering for a second, but embarrassed was never a word used to describe Logan. He gave a lazy gesture to the table containing alcohol, and next to it a stack of paper cups, being as classy as he was. “Should warn ya that it ain’t gonna be easy to drink me under the table.” Get down to business. Jean shot a startled, but amused wide-eyed glance his way at that, but luckily he followed it with a gesture towards the alcohol. Once again, she was struck with the feeling that this was a capital letters-BAD IDEA, but backing out now would just make her feel like a wuss. And she refused to be a wuss. “Good thing I have no intention of trying then, huh?” she murmured as she stepped over to the table and took a seat. Her hands came up instinctively to tuck her hair behind her ears, since it was her default ‘I’m completely out of my element’ tell. “I’m...not actually much of a drinker. But I’m tired of sitting around in my room by myself, so. Here I am,” Jean shrugged. “Never woulda guessed that about you, Red.” Logan replied, with a sarcastic off-kilter smile sent her way. The apprehension was practically oozing off of her, which made him regret pulling her into this without really any forethought. But she said she wanted out of her room, so.. With a sigh, Logan leaned down to the mini-fridge and fished out a coke to toss at her. “‘S’ok.” He settled himself down into the chair next to her, stretching his legs out under the table. He never had been good about posture and that shit. “Can’t get drunk unless I’m really tryin’, so it wouldn’t be fair anyway.” Even with that said, he still reached over to pour himself a few fingers worth of whiskey before offering it to her out of politeness. Jean narrowed her eyes at him and smirked as she caught the can. “If you make another nerd comment, I’m out of here. Fair warning.” It was one thing knowing she was a nerd who didn’t party much. It was another have anyone tease her about it. With that thought in mind, she poured herself a drink and then filled the rest of the cup with soda. She would have gladly taken something fruity that didn’t actually taste like alcohol, but the thought of Logan having coconut rum or anything even close to it only made her laugh into her glass as she took her first sip. “What do you mean you can’t get drunk unless you’re really trying? Is that like a...I’ve been drinking so long, I’m a badass who can handle his own weight in booze sort of claim? Because I’ll be honest, I know the science and that’s a load of bull,” she insisted, eyebrows raised in challenge. Her laugh only helped turn Logan’s attention to her mouth, where his eyes lingered for a second before actually jumping back to the topic. “Can’t take a little teasin’?” Not really in the business of bullying women, he just gave her a lazy grin and slouched in his chair a little more. “I’m a badass, Red. But that ain’t it.” He took a large drink of the whiskey and set his cup down with a sight. “You wanna be a doctor, right?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached in his pocket to dig out a small pocket knife. Flipping open the blade attachment, he held out his palm and dug the tip in to make a deep cut through the skin. “This should blow your pretty brain.” He didn’t normally go for obvious displays of his powers, but she’d been nice and seemed relatively harmless. Not like the damn scientists he was used to trying poking and prodding. And if this school she was talking about was real, she’d probably seen something like it before. Or she’d be sweet and try to doctor his hand up before it healed. Her eyes widened anxiously as he pulled out the knife and her cup froze halfway to her mouth for a second drink. Instinct took over, and Jean reached into his mind with her telepathy to see what his intentions were. She was still seriously unskilled at it, however, so it wasn’t likely as subtle as she would have preferred. Clunky as the effort may have been, though, she was comforted by the confirmation that he didn’t intend to use the knife on her, only to be immediately confused by the fact that he intended to use it on himself. Turning her attention from his surface thoughts to the blade, Jean couldn’t help but gasp quietly as he drew his own blood. “Jesus, why did you--” The question was cut off as his wound began to heal nearly immediately. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen something the average person would consider “magic”, but it was the first time she’d seen this particular mutation, and she leaned forward quickly in her chair to grab his hand for a better look. “You’re a mutant! I mean, I suppose I figured as much with the older Logan telling me he taught at Xavier’s school, but I didn’t really think about it,” she quietly mused as she turned his palm towards the light and watched the last of the wound disappear. “Amazing.” The genetics nerd in her was practically screaming to ask questions, but she managed not to babble. Instead, she lifted a curious gaze up to his face and lifted an eyebrow. “Do you heal everything as easily or are there limits?” Logan’s expression shifted from slightly hardened at her mental intrusion to softened as she went through the motions and grabbed his hand. He leaned forward a little, not threatening but an attempt to get a little closer to her. Damn, she smelled good. That thought slipped out before he was reminded that she apparently could pick up on things, even if she didn’t seem that good at it. But he’d had people in there before, both good and bad. “Why don’t you tell me, Red. You’re the one pokin’ around up here.” His free hand tapped on the side of his head, but the look he gave her wasn’t angry or upset, just curious to see how she was going to answer. Though it was fair that he didn’t really have an answer to give her, since he hadn’t found a limit yet. Nothing he couldn’t bounce back from, not even the claws that emerged at will - not that he had any plans of showing her that, not now and not given his immense dislike for the powers that had taken away his family and life. Jean winced, quickly letting go of his hand to reach for her drink. “I’m sorry about that. Honestly. I’ve only had use of the telepathy for a little while and I haven’t quite gotten the hang of not using it, if that makes any sense.” She took a courage-bolstering swig from the glass and then leaned back in her seat. What little she’d read hadn’t answered her question, but now she felt guilty enough to work extra hard at keeping her mental fingers to herself, as it were. “In my defense, you did pull out a knife and I didn’t want to take it from you if you meant no harm,” Jean added in a teasing note, even if she meant it. Most people looked at her and didn’t think she could do much damage, but she had considerably higher confidence in her telekinetics versus her telepathy. Enough so that she smiled a bit smugly and lifted her drink in a toast. “That could have ended badly for you.” Logan raised an eyebrow at her, but did nothing more than accept her apology with a grunt. He really wasn’t that bothered - who would complain about someone like her poking around his brain? And it allowed him to keep quiet on actually answering questions. Mostly. “Don’t know, never been a telepath. Had one up there before, though.” It wasn’t all that comforting to know that she actually had thought he’d pull it on her - not that he’d ever given him a reason to not be afraid. He knew he was more gruff than the normal person, and they didn’t know each other that well. But she did get a laugh out of him with her newfound cocky attitude. “Right, Red. Sure you could. Barely look like you could kick over this chair.” His own cockiness was pretty evident as he smiled smugly at her and kicked his chair off the ground so it just balanced on the back two legs, as if he was challenging her. She raised her eyebrows at his mention of having a telepath in his head before, since it was a neutral statement that didn’t tell her whether the person had been well-meaning or otherwise. But the urge to follow that line of thought with a question was temporarily shelved in favor of watching him lean back in his chair with all that attitude. A slow, off-kilter smile tugged up one corner of her mouth. “Normally, I’d decline such a challenge, because I’m not much of a show-off, but since I know you can heal now and you’re practically begging for it...” Lifting the cup to her mouth to take a sip of her drink, Jean simultaneously lifted her free hand and gestured with her pointer finger, tipping his chair backwards with a harder mental shove than the casual motion implied. With a skeleton that was a little denser than normal (not as dense as adamantium, but..) and the chair went out from under him, Logan went down hard. It would figure that she’d have some kind of extra power tucked away in that brain of hers, and to say he hadn’t been expecting her to actually tip him was an understatement. But that was what he got for underestimating her. And he kinda liked it. Getting proven wrong. “Looks like I ain’t the only one with a few secrets, darlin.” For all his grinning, ass down on the ground, Logan was a dirty fighter, and wasn’t going to give her a break now that she’d proven she could handle herself, so his foot wrapped around the leg of her chair and he yanked, hoping to propel her off the chair and toward him. Luckily, Jean had set her drink down to get in a proper laugh, otherwise she might have ended up with it in her face as she tumbled sideways out of the chair. Not so luckily for him, the attempt only half-worked. Mid-fall, Jean caught herself with flattened palms towards the floor and a somewhat effortless push of power. Still, it was awkward, hovering half over his legs, while one of her own somehow ended up draped over the chair she’d recently inhabited. “Nice. Very mature,” she laughed, fully aware of the hypocrisy involved. Another push of power and she shifted far enough away to let herself drop the last few inches to the ground without landing on him. “I still think you asked for it. And I feel like this means you should start sharing some details now, buuut, I’m not really pushy enough to enforce that. Not from the floor, anyway.” “Christ.” Logan muttered, staring over at her hovering form. Aside from his own and the few he’d come across in recent years, Logan was still fairly new to powers and mutations. Telepathy, he was used to, but this? This was a whole new ballpark. But he had to give her credit for meeting him just as equally as he’d pushed her, a trait he very clearly admired in a person. “Figure I owe it to ya at this point,” Logan caught himself staring at her and cleared his throat before he shoved himself into a sitting position, sliding away from her and propping his back up against the wall. Making sure he was a safe distance away from her, he held a fist up and flexed the muscles in his arm while the claws slowly emerged from in between each finger. If it hurt, he didn’t let on, but Logan was already regretting not grabbing his drink before moving out of it’s reach. Jean took his scooting back as a cue that she may as well stay put for whatever he had to say and crossed her legs to sit indian style against the side of the bed behind her. Her eyebrows both lifted at the reveal of his claws, perhaps not as high as they might have if this had been the first thing he showed her, but still leaving her with a comically wide-eyed look of surprise. “Well. The Wolverine thing with Jubilee today makes more sense now,” she murmured as her face settled back into a curious stare. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a combination of mutations quite like yours.” Knowing she’d always felt a little uncomfortable sharing hers with virtual strangers, especially before attending Xavier’s school, Jean offered an understanding smile and tried to reverse the mood back to the lighter one it had been only a minute ago. “Got anything else? A prehensile tail, maybe? I always thought one of those would be handy.” “I don’t go by that.” Logan returned, his eyes narrowing slightly at her. He knew that she was talking about the other one, but Logan was still in the process of figuring out the other one, and so far wasn’t impressed with what he saw. He was stuck more with the feeling that now there was an old guy around that thought he knew Logan enough to act like a dad, and even if it hadn’t come up yet, the other guy had to be up to something. “And I don’t got no tail, neither.” He grumbled, letting the claws slide away with a smooth sound, the wounds closing almost immediately after the claws were sheathed. “You wanna check for yourself, Red? Or just join me for that drink?” The look he gave her wasn’t quite a leer, but slightly on the predatory side, his eyes not shying away from looking directly at her face. His entire response earned one long, exaggerated eyeroll from Jean as she pushed herself up to her feet and regained her chair. “My, aren’t we a sensitive one?” she teased. “Having a tail isn’t such a bad thing, you know. Every mutation has its benefits.” Realizing she was about two seconds from wandering off into a very nerdy and somewhat self-righteous lecture, Jean clamped her lips shut and took the initiative to add a bit more liquor to both of their cups, instead. Suddenly the idea of getting drunk didn’t seem so bad. At least her jokes would probably start leaning towards the ridiculous instead of the geeky and maybe that would be more successful. Or maybe she would just embarrass herself. She had no idea since she’d never been seriously intoxicated before. And look, she’d just talked herself out of that idea. Well done, Jean, she thought, filling the majority of her cup with the last of the coke from the can. “What did you mean about having had people in your head before?” she finally asked. “If that’s a touchy subject, we can talk about something else.” “Whatever you say, Red. Already get told I’m an animal enough.” Logan got to his feet with a sigh and righted his chair with a heavy hand. “In bed.” Was whispered under his breath and accompanied with a smirk before he took his seat, knowing full well she’d probably hear it. His legs went back to their original position, sprawled out under the table and he leaned forward to grab his drink and finish in one swallow. He gestured for her to push the bottle of booze back his way and refilled his cup immediately. Given the higher tolerance for alcohol his body had, Logan preferred to just put away as much as possible in a short period of time, usually in order for him to get a few decent hours of sleep. Her heavy question had him wanting to just drink straight from the bottle, though. “This mutation or whatever the fuck you wanna call it.. Attracts attention. People usually wantin’ somethin from me or tryin’ to figure out how to replicate it.” He shrugged, eyes focusing on the bottle of amber liquid instead of her. “Took care of ‘em.” A surge of anger on his behalf brought a frown to Jean’s face at the part about being called an animal, but the follow-up dissolved her expression into a wrinkled nose grimace of a laugh. She opened her mouth to teasingly reprimand him for his lack of shame, but he beat her out of the gate, and she was left quietly staring at him as delivered those last ominous words. They’d faced a few opportunistic types over the last few years at the school and she’d heard horror stories of far worse, but she’d never met someone who openly admitted to “taking care of them”. Now she couldn’t decide whether she was more sympathetic or disturbed. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmured, reaching once again for her drink. It was a vague enough statement that she felt the need to clarify. “I mean, that you were sought out like that. It’s not uncommon in my world, but--” Jean shook her head. Self-righteous as she tended to be, judgment was often quick to follow and that wasn’t fair given how little she knew about the circumstances. “I’m just sorry there are people like that.” “Yeah, well.” Logan shrugged like he didn’t have a care in the world, even if that was farthest from the truth at that point in their conversation. He didn’t have the luxury of looking at the world through rose-colored glasses, not when he’d learned at such a young age that people were only wanted two things from him, and that was how to replicate his powers and how to use him. “Ain’t your fault and ain’t nothin’ we can do to change it now.” Deciding he’d had enough of wallowing and commiserating for an evening, Logan refilled his cup and looked over at her through hooded eyes, a slow smile growing across his lips as his eyes drifted down to linger on hers. “‘Less you wanna help me forget ‘bout my tragic history, we might wanna change the subject here, darlin. Tell me about you.” His seemingly ever-present pessimistic outlook tugged at her heartstrings. As hard as her life may have gotten at times, Jean was generally a positive person. Mutants got a hard rap, and it was unfair, but it didn’t mean humanity as a whole was hateful. Or at least, that’s how she looked at it. But that only made her not want to dig too deep into the story he’d presented, so she gladly took his offer to change the subject. Until she realized it meant she’d have to talk about herself. Not her favorite pastime by any means. “Uhh...” Glancing up, she caught the look he gave her and her eyebrows lifted in amusement in time to his comment. “I could help you forget, but not the way I’m guessing you’re getting at,” she smirked. “But since neither of those are happening tonight, I guess we’ll have to go with door number two...After another drink,” Jean added after a pause and the embarrassed wince-inducing realization that she’d inadvertently said the word tonight. Logan caught the tonight and the smirk on his face only grew. He dismissed her idea of helping him forget in another way, preferring to stick with the line of thought that didn’t involve fucking with his brain. Logan reached over and snagged the bottle, tipping it into her cup for a refill without her even asking. “That case, we better get started.” That grin of his wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, at least until she managed to shut him down for good. He refilled his own cup and held it up to fake toast her direction. “To eventualities, Red.” |