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xantissaAuthor: Xantissa
Pairing: Logan (Wolverine)/Remy LeBeau (Gambit)
Rating: Strong NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue me
Warnings: graphic m/m sex. Alternate Universe.
Summary: Logan is a secret agent for the FBI gathering evidence against the mob. Remy is a spy hired by gangsters to become Logan's lover and spy on him. However, things go a little different than planned. There is not much action, just romance. Well kind of.
Thanks to: Linda (LS) for the greatest beta ever. You are the best
Part 2
It was a quiet night when two dark figures arrived on silent feet at the first wall surrounding Essex’s headquarters. They were moving like ghosts, the only sign of their movements were the soft sounds of their even, controlled breathings.
Logan watched the thief carefully. He was sure that Remy was hiding something from him when he’d explained his plan to him. Everything he said was just too smooth, too … something.
Remy looked at his watch and then nodded to Logan. His cell phone beeped once. It meant that Robert Drake, his friend and one of the best hackers to be found in the USA, had disabled the security system for exactly six minutes. That was all the time they had to find Scott and get him out of there. It was Logan’s responsibility to find him by scent.
They climbed the wall, carefully avoiding the security cameras and made their way to the main building. Once there, Remy took care of the door, which opened swiftly under his trained fingers.
Once inside, Logan took a deep breath. Everything was glass and steel, reinforced doors, cameras and a LOT of other things more suitable for a secret military base than a mob boss’s headquarters.
He sniffed the air and tried to find a familiar scent. They were lucky. Scott had been brought this way.
He motioned to the thief and started to follow the scent. The blood he smelled along with the scent disturbed him. He prayed that his friend was still well enough to escape.
The Cajun stepped silently at his side and Logan wondered just how many times he’d done something like this.
In his mind, Remy was desperately counting seconds. They had very little time. The first guard they encountered was taken down before he could comprehend what happened to him.
The same for the second and third. It seemed almost too easy. Both men felt the hair on the back of their necks stand up. Something was bound to happen. Something bad.
Logan stopped at an intersection. After a few seconds he choose the left corridor and started to move but a hand to his shoulder stopped him.
He looked questioningly at the thief. The man’s face, however, was a mask of concentration. The alien red on black eyes gave him the ability to see in complete darkness but in combination with his charge power he was able to see lasers.
The whole floor was literally covered with them.
Slowly he reached inside his trench coat and took a few cards out. They glowed fintly in the dark and then he threw them. As always he hit the bulls eye.
With soft booms, small explosions disabled the lasers. He smiled smugly, pleased with himself. Only then did he realize Logan’s eyes had been watching him carefully. He turned to look at him and saw Logan staring at his hands.
Logan could just wonder HOW powerful the kid was and how much of an idiot he was to believe the vulnerability of the thief.
Logan could just wonder at HOW powerful the kid was and how much of an idiot he’d been to believe the thief’s vulnerability.
Logan sniffed out the room where Scott was being held. His first instinct was to cut through the door but Remy’s hand stopped him again. He fumbled with the electronic lock and eventually they heard a silent “poof” when the hydraulic doors slid open.
The stench of fear and blood hit Logan right in the gut. He swayed a little. He didn’t hear the hiss Remy made when he saw the beaten, bound figure curled in a fetal position on the floor.
Scott’s eyes were covered with a wide piece of Duct Tape, his face bruised and covered in blood. He’d obviously received a hard beating. One of his legs was twisted at an unnatural angle.
“Scott!” Logan called, running to his friend while Remy watched the door.
“L…Logan?” Croaked the man on the floor. He coughed a little, speaking was obviously painful for him, “What took … you … so long?”
“Can you walk?” He asked while cutting the ropes. Scott winced as the circulation returned to his arms, bringing with it a tremendous amount of pain.
“I’m afraid … not.”
As tenderly as he could, Logan tore the tape away and had to grit his teeth in helpless fury at the sight of his friends face.
“Scott … I have your visor but …” Logan hesitated seeing that Scott’s face was a mess. His nose was obviously broken and his eyebrow had a deep cut. “You are in no condition to wear it.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes closed. Will you be able to get me out of here?”
The overwhelming feeling of guilt took Remy’s breath away. It was all because of him. If he hadn’t stalled for time this wouldn’t have happened. Essex knew how to hurt him the most. That man was a genius at manipulating people.
He should never have agreed to work with that man.
“Hurry up, Logan. De time …”
Scott’s head jerked at the unfamiliar voice.
“Who is it?” Scot asked.
Logan looked at the tall thief still guarding the door. Although his mind was occupied with something else, he did not forget his betrayal.
“No one Scott, no one worth attention …”
Remy took a step back as if slapped in the face. Merde it hurt. If he wanted, Logan could use words even better than his claws… Remy blinked a few times to get rid of the stinging and turn his face to hide emotions that threatened to overtake him. He was never one to show his weaknesses.
Logan took the exhausted man in his arms and lifted him carefully. Scott only gritted his teeth when his broken ankle was disturbed, but didn’t make a sound understanding the need to be silent.
They started to make their way back when all hell broke loose. All the alarms went off. The sheer volume of noise making them sway. Both men started running towards the door they’d come through.
“Fuck! We’ll never be able to get out of here!” Logan shouted when he heard the sharp raps of many booted feet approaching.
Suddenly something stopped him. Something wasn’t right. He turned around and saw Remy had stopped and was standing eight meters behind
“What…?”
“Remy lied, Cher …” The thief said in a strange voice, “He changed de plans.”
“What do you mean?! If you …”
“Logan.” Something in that even, plain voice stopped him. Only then did he smell the DESPAIR coming off the thief. “Remy want to help. You go save your friend …” While he was talking, he pressed a spot on the wall and suddenly a large block of steel comming from the wall started moving, slowly closing the corridor.
Remy didn’t move when it started separating him from Logan.
“Dese doors can be blocked … but only from de inside. I am sorry I hurt you Logan. Never wanted it to happen.”
Logan tried to make a move, drag the thief out of that fucking corridor while still he had the time, but when he stepped closer, a pair of cards appeared in Remy’s hands and he threw them in front of Logan. The explosions pushed him backwards, nearly causing him to lose his balance, but never threatening his life. It was only to stop him.
When the smoke disappeared, there was only a small space between the metal doors and the wall. During these last seconds while it closed, Remy took his glasses off and Logan was able to SEE the real emotions in them, overwhelming sadness, despair and guilt. A Guilt so strong that Remy was determined to do anything to erase it.
When there was just an inch of space left, Logan saw a single tear flow down that handsome face. He had no time to ponder it, however, because he heard the approaching footsteps in the adjoining corridor and when he looked back, the doors were closed. From behind them he heard the muffled sound of explosions.
Refusing to think about it he started running towards the exit with Scott still in his arms. He would take him to a safe place and then return for the thief. He would probably find his own way back, after all he knew the plans better…
However he was never given the chance to do so. When he left the building, heading towards the car in which Jean was waiting, he heard the sound of a helicopter leaving the building and then a powerful explosion, which caused him to fall to his knees. When he looked back all he saw was a blazing fireball.
Chapter 5
It had been a long month. A long 31 days. Scott had been released from the hospital and was now being nursed by a loving wife. Logan, in his trashed apartment, clung to the remains of the Cajun’s scent.
Remy was most likely dead. He’d had no chance of surviving. The building had been on fire for two days, it had taken the firefighters 48 hours to extinguish the blaze completely. The amount of bodies that had been found inside had been frightening, almost twenty-five people. All the corpses had been incinerated so identification was nearly impossible.
Logan entered the bedroom and sat on the bed. The sheets still smelled like him.
The first few days he’d spent trying to understand why Remy had done such a thing? Why had he sacrificed his own life? And the feelings he’d seen in his eyes before the door closed … was there something deeper? Love?
He groaned and covered his face with his arm. It was no use in tormenting himself like this. He could not bring the kid back. Nothing could.
Before he knew it, he fell asleep. A slumber with dark, haunting images that left him more exhausted than before. He’d hardly slept these past few weeks. Day and night the only thing he was able to think of was the beautiful Cajun thief. He kept wondering what would have happened if he’d been more … forgiving? Less feral? He should have seen the truth when the thief came here to help him find Scott. But he was too caught up in his own pain to see anything. Maybe, if he’d noticed that desperate wish to pay for his sins, maybe he would be able to save his life?
Soft knocking on his door woke him from a light sleep. The unfamiliar scent surprised him. Whoever was there smelled like … ice?
Curious he opened the door only to see a young man, blonde, athletic, not to tall. He was definitely a mutant. Logan’s nose was never wrong. And he was nervous.
“Yeah?”
“Um … Mr. Logan?”
“Yes, who are you?”
“My name is Robert Drake.”
“So?” Logan asked gruffly.
“I have something for you.”
“What?”
The blonde man reached into his pocket and took out three discs. Two of which looked painfully familiar.
Logan grabbed the kid by the collar and dragged him through the door, slamming him into the wall.
“What is this all about? Who are you? Where did you go these?” His face turned into menacing snarl.
“Remy told me to give it back to you.”
Logan let him go at once.
“Remy? Is he alive? Where …”
“He gave them to me a month ago and told me to wait three weeks before I gave them back. The third one contains a lot of data on Essex. Remy gathered the info personally. This stuff will allow you to put that bastard away for life.”
“Who are you?” Logan asked once again.
“A friend of Remy’s. I was the one who disabled the security system when you saved Scott Summers.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Suddenly the young man turned his gaze away. Logan knew he was hiding something.
“I’m not sure I should be telling you this. After all it was because of you that Remy went on that suicide mission. I knew there was no way out of that fucking headquarters. But he wanted to erase his guilt so desperately … I should have known,” he sighed. Then his eyes turned to ice and his voice had an edge of anger to it.
“It was your fault! You never gave him a chance.”
Logan wanted to growl, snap at the kid but couldn’t. After all he was telling the truth.
“I … he betrayed my trust. Worked for Essex. He …”
“He wanted to find his sister!”
“What?!”
“You never even asked him, did you?” Drake shouted, “When he came here to help you, you never even considered forgiving him … He worked for Essex because that bastard found his kid sister, that Remy lost years ago, and demanded those fucking discs in exchange for her address. Remy has no family, only her.”
Logan felt a sick feeling of guilt inside his chest and tried to swallow around a lump in his throat.
“You said ‘has’. Does that mean Remy’s alive?”
“I’m not sure you can call it that, but … yeah. He’s alive.”
“Where can I find him?”
* * *
He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t speak.
The only thing Logan could do was stare at the fragile figure on the hospital bed wired to so many machines that it was hard to even see the outline of the body. The sickness. The pain. The hurt he smelled coming off what used to be Remy made him sick. His face was bruised, his chest cut by knife or claws … the doctors couldn’t decide which. The skin on his wrists completely torn away leaving only raw flesh. The bruises and other small wounds covered every inch of his body. His long hair had lost it’s shine and spilled over the white pillow lifelessly just like the rest of him.
He looked so young. So fragile and vulnerable … so dead.
“What …” Logan croaked, unable to speak more.
Drake, standing beside him was also quiet. He, however, had time to get used to the sight of his friend. It still hurt, but he knew what to expect when he entered the room.
He didn’t warn Logan. He let him enter unprepared. He wanted to hurt him, cause him pain because he knew, Remy’d done it only for Logan. Silently, he watched the Canadian go pale and saw the sheer terror in his face.
“He was found four days ago. There are no life threatening injuries any more. His body is healing fine, the problem is his mind.”
Logan looked at him questioningly.
Bobby went over to the bed and pulled the thick gauze away to reveal opened red on black eyes. Eyes that didn’t react to his touch or presence at all.
“Remy …” Logan called brokenly, still expecting the thief to look at him, react. But there was nothing.
“What … what happened?”
Drake looked at him, took in the pain and after a long moment he answered.
“Remy is … was … an empath. Essex is a telepath. He tortured him from both physical and psychical sides. Dr. Xavier, one of the most powerful telepaths, said that there is nothing he can do. Remy’s mind … was overloaded with pain and suffering. Essex kept abusing him till he broke and finally stopped reacting to everything around him. When he lost the ability to feel pain, Essex got rid of him.”
Logan came closer and looked into the lifeless eyes that used to seduce him. He remembered the way Remy got him into bed. Using not words but touches, scents and sights. He understood him so well … If only he’d given the kid a chance to explain!
“The doctors say that … there are no chances of him coming back. Ever.”
“Remy … oh god … Remy …” Logan reached out a shaking hand and tried to touch Remy’s hand but the amount of IV’s and other tubes made it almost impossible. Finally he settled for the cheek.
Only his fingertips touched the cold skin. He shivered remembering that this skin used to be so warm, hot even …
When they made love that one time, Remy’s face had been flushed, eyes burning with lust and need that had been real. Only now, when his rage had died, did he remember the scents that were real. No one could fool his nose. The lust he smelled on the kid had always been true, the tenderness and trust also.
He remembered the way the kid had given his body to him. With complete and utter trust. He’d made that experience the most erotic memory he had. Now he was lying in that hospital bed without even the tiniest spark of life in him.
Logan tenderly pushed the dirty hair from his face, so focused on the thief that he didn’t notice Bobby, quickly blinking, leaving the room.
“I’m sorry, Darlin’. Oh, God I am so sorry …”
He closed his eyes while the memories came crashing down on him.
His apartment, that first night when he found the kid on his doorstep and then watched him change his clothes.
Logan stood in the entrance to the bathroom and watched the Cajun. He still hadn't figured out how the hell the kid got him to agree to him staying here.
Gambit slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slowly took it off. He seemed to not notice Logan observing him, but Logan knew better. He had caught the change in the kid's breathing. Still, he watched the muscles of those long arms rippling when he was undressing. Still the kid proceeded to undress…
There was something almost hypnotizing in the thief taking off one piece of clothing at a time.
He was beautifully built. His long slender, elegant body was definitely eye-catching.
The Cajun washed his hands and then unbuttoned his Levi's. There was a loud /slump/ when the wet material hit the floor. Remy was now standing only in his briefs and started to slowly unwrap the bandage from his left wrist. Never once did he take his glasses off.
"Why are you wearing glasses?"
Remy stilled, his head bent, completely focused on his wrist. Logan KNEW he wouldn't get an answer. The kid was like an oyster – kept his mouth shut. He refused to explain to Logan just exactly WHY was he sleeping on his doorstep. He merely stared at him in silence, smelling of fear, loneliness and despair.
Right now he wondered just how much of it had been the truth? Maybe he hadn’t been playing a game to seduce him? Maybe he he’d been showing his real face?
Then he remembered his words, so cruel and cold.
“Traitor!…I will never believe that you care about someone else other than yourself. After all you are nothing more than a whore for hire.”
He recalled the way Remy hadn’t defend himself. The way he lowered his head as if accepting those blunt words.
Only once did he react to Logan’s comments. In Essex’s headquarters, when Scott asked who was with him.
“No one Scott, no one worth attention …”
He SAW the way the kid backed away a little, the pain on his face before he regained his composure. The mask had shifted a little showing how much those words hurt him.
And that last image of him, the still live, like an action movie … those last seconds before the damned door shut.
Remy taking his glasses off.
Those red on black eyes filled with love he’d refused to see.
The single tear making it’s way down and that sad desperation in his face, the knowledge, the absolute certainty that Logan would never forgive him.
Logan squeezed his eyes wishing things were different. If only …
But there was no chance of changing the past. His mistakes always came back to haunt him.
He looked into that pale face and felt the hot wetness on his cheeks. There was a time when he vowed he would never cry. The first and the last time had been when Jean left him for Scott. He thought he’d loved her with all his heart. Now he knew it was a lie. That feeling in comparison to what he felt for the thief was nothing more than a crush.
The deep ache that seemed to cut through his soul like a hot knife made the beast inside him want to howl in pain. Tears ran freely down his face.
“Oh God, Remy …”
And the tide broke. Feelings, memories … everything came rushing back to him.
"Shh… cher, let Remy help… Let Remy take care of dis…" He whispered softly while touching the burning, thick cock, with only his fingertips.
“Traitor! …Whore for hire!”
“No one…”
“… I’m sorry I hurt you Logan. Never wanted it to happen.”
The only time Remy spoke in first person.
Logan needed to touch Remy so desperately. It seemed that all his being, his very sense of existence, closed in on this single desire. To touch. To feel. To make sure that there was even the tiniest spark of hope, of life left in the body on the bed.
“…Traitor…”
“…Whore…”
“…No one…”
“…Remy sorry…”
“…Kill you…”
“ The doctors say that … there are no chances of him coming back. Ever.”
“…are no chances…”
“…Ever…”
He gathered the lifeless body in his arms, seemingly not noticing the IV’s and tubes. He awkwardly pulled the upper body close to his chest and supported the completely limp head.
He couldn’t take it any more. Logan threw his head backwards and howled in pain, letting all the hurt and pain out, screaming his soul away.
Because he loved the man lying so lifelessly in his arms. And it was too late…
Chapter 6
Logan watched the still figure on his bed and wondered how had it all happened? When did his life turn into a disaster? He moved closer and pushed the still slightly damp hair off the Cajuns face. It had been three weeks since Drake had showed Remy to him. Essex’s trial had begun … the odds were, he’d be sentenced to life imprisonment. But Logan wasn’t interested in watching the trial. All he wanted was the young man to come out of his coma.
When Remy’s wounds healed, he was released from the hospital. Since he had no family, Logan decided to take him in. He felt as if he had a debt to pay … and he needed to take care of the thief.
During the last few weeks, spent sitting beside Remy’s bed and talking to him about everything and nothing, he understood just how much he loved him. He always felt uneasy around sick people. Maybe because he was unfamiliar with the constant physical illness due to his healing factor, maybe because of his somewhat animalistic nature … but taking care of Remy wasn’t like he thought it would be. Maybe it was because he loved the man? But he found infinite care and patience inside himself. He fed, dressed and washed the kid and there was never even a single uneasy thought about it. All he wanted was for Remy to get well again. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him. How much he cared, how much he regretted his cruel words.
“Remy …” He whispered softly, his feelings clear in his voice. “I wish you were here with me to watch the sunrise. It’s cold outside but the sun is bright …” his voice cracked a little. The doctors said it would be good to talk to Remy, because he may hear something, but they weren’t sure it would help.
But he tried. Talked and talked ‘till his throat had gone dry. He kept stroking the thief’s hair and telling him how it was outside. Finally, after what seemed like hours he could talk no more.
Slowly he moved the kid on the bed and lay next to him. Gently he wrapped his arms around the thin figure and pulled him close to his chest.
“Sleep now, Darlin’. It’s okay. I’m here, you’re with me. You’re safe … I love you Remy,” he whispered softly, nuzzling Remy’s neck and closing his eyes for a short nap. He hadn’t slept much these days and felt tired. Strangely tired. Like nothing he’d felt before.
The kind of exhaustion that reached down to his very soul …
* * *
Warmth.
He felt something warm engulfing him. His body had been cold and numb for so long. And silent.
Everything around him had been so silent … He couldn’t remember why or how he ended up in this strange place, but it didn’t bother him.
Thinking was hard. His mind seemed so lazy, thoughts so incoherent. He didn’t want to focus on anything.
His body was numb. He felt as if he was floating on the surface of water. Still … he was cold.
He longed to fall asleep again, to stop that chaotic train of thoughts. To sleep before the pain came back. Slowly he started drifting to numbness again but the warmth was just on the edge of his senses.
Warmth.
He tried to open his eyes, to see what it was, but couldn’t. His whole world consisted of endless blackness. But the strange, foreign feeling forced him to THINK. To focus on it. It was hard. Trying to understand just what it was. He wasn’t sure he even WANTED to do it.
Something inside him struggled against that decision, telling him it was better to stay here, like this, oblivious to the outside world.
* * *
Still sleeping, Logan felt the body beside him become gradually colder. Acting on instinct, he pulled the body closer, wrapping himself around it in order to give his mate his own body heat.
* * *
The feeling became more intense, as if it refused to be forgotten, pushed aside. It seemed to slowly creep closer.
Now it wasn’t something on the edge of his mind. It nearly touched him. Suddenly he was afraid. The HEAT was strange, foreign to him.
Part of him wanted to let it swallow him, to let him feel again but the other part of his mind refused, screamed to him to get away. Told him that the cold was good, the numbness was good. Because when he was numb, he couldn’t feel. No pleasure and no pain …
* * *
Logan woke up startled by the sudden stench of fear in the room. The body in his arms was completely rigid. The cold skin grey and covered in sweat. Logan knew something wrong was going on, but couldn’t understand just what it was.
Suddenly, Remy’s eyes snapped open. They were unfocused and looked fogged, as if he was heavily drugged.
“Remy …” Logan called softly, not wanting to spook him, “can you hear me?”
So very slowly the red on black eyes focused, first on his surroundings, taking in where he was, and then on Logan. For a long moment Logan thought he saw recognition in them but he was wrong. As soon as Remy understood that the weight above him was actually a man, he started struggling wildly.
Logan let out a surprised yelp when the scent of fear became sickening in its intensity and Remy’s nails started tearing through his flesh, drawing blood. The panic, the animalistic fear, above everything else, gave his still weak body a surprising strength. Remy should’ve been as weak as a kitten but he fought for all he was worth.
Knowing that restraining the kid would only make matters worse Logan backed off.
As soon as he was free, Remy bolted out of bed. His legs, not used to keeping his weight any more, gave up and he fell but kept crawling away from Logan, away from the large man.
Something inside Logan howled seeing Remy like this, scared out of him mind, reduced to animalistic behavior.
Remy curled into a protective ball in the farthest corner of the room, and hissed at Logan weakly when the older man tried to approach him.
The kid was obviously in pain. So many weeks without moving had taken its toll on his physical condition. Keeping that curled position must have been painful but the fear was stronger.
“Remy …” Logan tried once more.
The kid backed off even more, not trusting him, afraid and hissed with more force, baring his teeth. His eyes were bloodshot, wild and unfocused.
There was no way he could approach the Cajun without making him even more afraid. Instead, he slowly sank to his knees, sitting on the floor trying to look as unthreatening as possible and started talking to him. Just like he had, when Remy was completely catatonic. He was sure Remy didn’t understand a word. But the calm, steady sound of Logan’s voice did catch his attention.
Logan talked about his love for the young man, about all those weeks spent in the hospital by his motionless side, and about his decision to take care of him.
He talked for hours, aware of the sun going down and the ache in his muscles as he forced himself to remain in the same position for such a long time. He felt the pressure on his bladder but didn’t dare move. For some time now, the kid seemed to be listening to his voice. He was oblivious to the words he said but the timbre told him that Logan wasn’t going to attack him.
“Remy please … come back to me. I would do anything for you, anything. I am so sorry I didn’t give you a chance. It was my entire fault. If I hadn’t been blinded by my own anger and hurt I could have seen your hurt as well. When you came back to save Scott … you never even believed I would forgive you, didn’t you? You didn’t try to fight my words. Those cruel, unjustified words. I know that they hurt you more deeply than any knife. I am so sorry Remy … so sorry …”
He didn’t even notice he was crying until he smelled salt in the air. He wanted to wipe the tears away but then Remy moved and Logan froze, not wanting to scare the kid again. Slowly, Remy started crawling towards Logan, his eyes focused on something on his face. Logan didn’t dare to even breathe. He sat there still as a rock praying to every god he knew for his lover to come back to him.
When Remy reached him, he stopped about a foot away and hesitated. Logan wanted to encourage his lover but was afraid to make a gesture or a sound, because it could have the opposite effect of what he intended.
He looked at the skinny Cajun and suddenly noticed the way Remy always avoided his eyes, the way he crawled with his head low and hair over his eyes. For some reason he was afraid of eye contact and Logan took a risk. He closed his eyes and waited.
For a long moment nothing happened, all he could hear was the kid’s harsh, ragged breathing and the pounding of his heart and then he heard him move. Ever so carefully he crawled closer and reached a shaking hand to Logan’s face. Then the Canadian felt cold fingertips tracing wet trails on his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw Remy staring at his fingers and then slowly bring them to his mouth to lick the salty tears, tasting them with wary curiosity.
Logan felt new tears welling up in his eyes and blinked them away. He hated seeing Remy like this.
“Remy …” he whispered softly, but that was enough to break the spell and Remy jumped a good five feet away from him in one panicked movement.
Logan immediately stilled himself cursing his stupidity.
Then he felt it.
It took him a moment to realize that the feeling had been accompanying him for the last few days but he was so focused on Remy that he hadn’t noticed it.
There was a light tugging on the edge of his mind. Nothing irritating or threatening, more like a soft, hesitant presence.
“Remy is an empath” he remembered Drake saying.
Was it Remy? He desperately tried to remember what empath’s did. They could feel other people’s feelings and send them …
He focused on his love, the need to protect and cherish the Cajun, hoping he would pick it up and relax a little. He couldn’t understand words but maybe he could understand feelings?
Logan concentrated on the memories of Remy trying to seduce him, that time in his bedroom when he experienced a blowjob given by a man for the first time. He remembered the way the Cajun had intrigued and aroused him, the way he felt during their first and only night together.
Suddenly he heard a soft whimper from the kid. Slowly, Logan turned to face him and looked at the disheveled, still scared and now confused thief. He WAS getting the message but couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. But when Logan moved a little closer, Remy didn’t back off in panic.
Logan smiled at the small victory and proceeded to move closer, still not sure how close he would be allowed. And then Remy’s stomach growled. Logan stopped.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, but got no answer.
“Eat?” he tried once more, using only one simple word.
Remy looked at him, but there was no understanding in his eyes. At least the fear had receded.
Cautiously, Logan started backing off. He figured that getting up in front of the still crouching thief would be bad thing.
When he was nearly at the door he stood up.
“I am going to bring you something to eat … you just stay here, okay?” he asked, unsure. Remy only stared at him, not showing any signs of understanding.
Slowly, Logan made his way to the kitchen thinking about what had happened. His heart rejoiced at the thought that Remy wasn’t catatonic any more, but this wasn’t much better either. Right now he had problems with thinking of something to eat. For the past few months, IV’s had fed Remy. His stomach would refuse to keep anything heavy so he decided on a simple sandwich.
While he was preparing the light snack, his acute sense of hearing caught movement in the entrance to the kitchen. He pretended he didn’t feel the eyes observing him, nor that he noticed the crouched figure in the shadows.
When he finished, he wasn’t surprised to find nothing behind him. Slowly, he returned to the bedroom, the plate in his hands and found Remy curled in the corner. If it weren’t for his acute senses he would never have known about the thief’s little trip.
He put the plate on the floor and backed off till he was sitting on the bed. Just like he thought. Only when he was away did Remy approach the plate. Carefully, he sniffed the sandwiches and looked at them from every side, often casting a careful glance at Logan.
His stomach growled once more and, finally, Remy started eating. Logan smiled watching him. He had the feeling that everything would be okay. It had to be.
When Remy finished eating he backed to his corner once more. Logan could see he was tired. His eyes were drifting shut, but the kid fought it. He still didn’t trust Logan enough to fall asleep in front of the other man.
Understanding, Logan slowly shed his clothes, staying only in his sweats and crawled into bed. He turned off the light and pretended to asleep. After a very long moment he heard the even, slow breathing coming from the corner of the room.
Moving as slowly as possible, he got up and put a pillow and a blanked near the kid. He knew he would only wake him up if he tried to tuck him in, so he just left the items there, hoping Remy would use them if he got cold during the night.
* * *
Two weeks.
Two weeks since Remy woke up.
Two weeks without a word from his lover, only occasional hissing when the younger man felt threatened.
Two weeks of constant hope.
Two weeks of going to bed early and wishing desperately that the next day, when he opened his eyes, he would see Remy smiling at him … or at least recognizing him.
Remy seemed to remember what bathrooms were for, he knew how to use utensils but didn’t understand a word Logan said.
The presence in his mind was also strange. It appeared and left without warning. Sometimes it was strong enough that Logan could FEEL Remy in it. But mostly there was just pain.
He couldn’t remember if he’d ever hurt so much. He loved Remy with all his might but he started losing hope. He found himself slowly accepting the fact that Remy LeBeau would never be himself again.
Since awakening he hadn’t made any progress.
Right now, lying in his bed he decided to call Jean first thing in the morning. Until now he’d waited for Remy to heal himself, not believing that he would appreciate strangers messing around in his head, but there seemed to be no other way.
He closed his eyes desperately wishing to fall asleep to the sound of even breathing coming from the corner.
Remy refused to leave the corner, he did however accept some blankets and a mattress from Logan. But there still was no trust in the kid.
* * *
Logan woke up panting and sweating. He was having one of the wettest dreams of his life when his senses told him he was being observed.
He still had the taste of Remy’s skin on his tongue, the soft moans in his ears when he was jerked back to reality. His eyes snapped open, body tense and ready to fight any possible attacker when he saw a still to thin figure perched at the edge of his bed.
He blinked to adjust his eyes to darkness and saw the strangely focused look on the Cajun’s face that seemed so normal, so human right now.
It took him a moment to realize he had thrown his blankets off during sleep and his erection was clearly visible under the thin sweats.
Remy looked at his face and then at his body, pausing for a long moment at his groin.
Logan swallowed thickly wondering if his state had scared the young man. He remembered what the doctors told him, the internal damage – the tearing in his rectum, some of it obviously caused by sharp objects.
There was no doubt the kid had been sexually abused above mental and physical torture. The doctors told him that even if he survived, he would never react normally to sex. Ever.
Did he scare him?
“Remy …” he spoke softly, the sound of his voice didn’t scare the thief anymore. “You know I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. Never … trust me … please …”
Remy moved his eyes back to his grey ones. There was a strange understanding in those red on black eyes, the knowledge and awareness, but it only lasted for a second.
Then he felt the gentle touch in his mind. It was … different from what he was used to. Less shy, less frightened more … curious?
He sniffed the air trying to determine Remy’s emotions by his scent and he did feel curiosity.
Slowly, he relaxed his body and his mind allowing that foreign presence to seek his mind for whatever answer it needed.
He didn’t move when Remy scooted a little closer. Nor did he move when he felt the first shy touch on his chest. Cold, fragile fingers stroked him lightly, sliding just above his nipple. He failed to restrain a moan. He was still rock hard from the dream and his enhanced senses included hypersensitivity to touch. Usually, he was able to hide his reactions but it was months since he’d had sex and during the last few weeks he couldn’t even jack off because Remy was watching him too closely. His body was on edge. He got these wet dreams more and more often and when he woke up, hard and aching he couldn’t even relieve the need. Not with Remy pretending to be sleeping in the corner of the room.
He was jerked from his musings by the scent.
Fear mixed with arousal coming off Remy in great waves. He looked at the red haired man in front of him but the red bangs hid his eyes from him. Suddenly, there were TWO hands gliding along his chest.
Cold touch on his flat stomach that trembled just like his thoughts. He didn’t know what was happening. Should he be allowing it? Or should he stop the kid?
In the end, the decision wasn’t his. The moment he wanted to push Remy away, something changed. The kid looked upon him, eyes burning red with something that actually scared Logan – madness.
Anger, lust, hurt … hatred, everything mixed together and causing the red orbs to flare.
Something had changed, snapped in the Cajun and now all the hurt, pain and fear was seeking a way out. And Logan was his closest target.
“Re—” he wanted to call him again but the usually neutral presence in his mind changed.
Logan arched upwards, nearly coming off the bed, and roared in pain as an empathic attack hit full force on his exposed, unguarded mind.
The sheer amount of pain was threatening to turn him feral. Such hurt. He howled and thrashed on the bed not sure what was happening, his senses were obviously fooling him. He felt as if the skin of his wrists and ankles was being torn from his flesh. It hurt so much he started choking on his own screams. But that wasn’t the worst.
He felt the imaginary fists, heavy and skilled, coming down on his body. He actually heard the crushing of his ribs, the unbearable pain of drawing a breath in.
But still it wasn’t that bad. His feral side was near to overwhelming him and started pushing the presence from his mind and the feelings eased. When he felt the tortures go down his body he understood.
Somehow he was experiencing everything Remy had and consciously he surrendered his mind to everything. He willingly offered himself to the raging red eyes in front of him. He didn’t even notice the kid straddling his stomach when the incredible pain shot from his lower back up his spine. He felt as if he was being ripped apart, cut from the inside. The pain so strong, so maddening, that he couldn’t even scream. The sounds he made were nothing more that choked whimpers.
Vaguely, he was aware of other sounds accompanying him. Screams, whimpers and growls that came from the thin figure atop him.
When the pain subsided he was hit with a wave of anger so strong it made him sick inside. Remy was screaming, his eyes shut, obviously reliving it all again. He clawed with his short nails at his chest, ripping Logan’s skin and drawing blood from sensitive spots. He wanted to fight, his instinct told him to throw his assailant off, but he couldn’t. Some part of him told him that if Remy got it all out of him, he would be okay again.
He didn’t try to fight the fingers cutting into his skin, nor did he react at the fists that came afterwards. Hard, surprisingly fierce blows, cascading onto his jaw, eyes, nose. He felt it being broken and heal a moment later. He could taste his own blood, but he merely clenched his hands on the sheet to keep himself still.
Remy was now shouting something unintelligible, shaking like a man in agony and his eyes burned with red light, illuminated his still to skinny face with a demonic glow.
Logan’s senses were assaulted from inside and outside. He felt the blows but he also felt the empathic assault, oddly thankful for it. His instinct told him that there was still more to come. And he wasn’t wrong.
Instead of calming himself down, Remy seemed to go deeper and deeper into his madness now tearing Logan’s sweats to pieces. Logan understood he had to live through the sexual abuse that Remy had endured. He braced himself for everything to come.
His head was spinning when he felt the cold hand close over his still partially hard member and stroke it ruthlessly, squeezing painfully hard. He howled when his mind was again flooded with feelings, emotions, and memories. The fear, shame, despair … death wish. It all coursed through him like a train, leaving him hurting and gasping. The desperate strokes still managed to arouse him, because part of his mind knew it was Remy and wanted him. And that fact set him off even more.
Logan felt the short nails cut into the sensitive skin of his thighs and howled in pain. The sound ended abruptly when those nails scraped along his shaft causing him to bleed. He bit his own tongue, nearly choking on it. Tears were running down his cheeks while the assault continued. Remy kept punishing his body, him for everything HE had suffered.
Logan felt his legs being jerked open and KNEW what was coming. But he still didn’t want to fight Remy. He could do it, even with his mind practically fried from the emotions, he was still physically stronger and could take the kid down in a matter of seconds.
He was surprised at the kid’s strength, the amount of force he used to grasp his thighs and keep them open was painful.
Logan only managed to take a deep breath and prepare himself for more pain when he felt the pressure.
There was no hesitating, no feeling in it. Just hate, hurt and desperate need to hurt back. Logan heard the stief spit on his hands and probably lubricate himself and then he felt the flat head of the thief’s cock PUSH inside, tearing him open. Without any preparation, lubricant … nothing, the pain was unbearable. He FELT his insides being torn, the delicate surface of his rectum burned and he was sure his muscles were torn. His healing factor didn’t help either because as soon as the tears were healed the hard cock inside him tore him again.
The movement became faster when his own blood lubricated his passage. He never imagined that rape could HURT so much. He wasn’t aware he was crying not only for the young man thrashing so madly above him and shouting something no one could understand, but also because of the pain.
Suddenly, Remy slammed into him once more and stilled. Logan observed him cumming. Although his body seemed to find release, and he felt the hot seed being released inside him, he knew there was no pleasure in it.
As the spasms were coursing through the young man, silent sobs could be heard. He collapsed on Logan sobbing and crying and shaking, completely spent. The explosion of anger and hatred had exhausted him.
The menacing presence in his mind also receded. The softening cock slipped out of him and Logan released a strangled sigh, letting his body heal and cleared his mind of the pain. He refused to think about what happened.
Slowly, he untangled his hands from the torn sheets and put his arms around the shivering and sobbing young man on top of him.
His senses were assaulted with the odor of seed, blood, salt and sadness.
He felt tears dripping from Remy’s eyes onto his freshly healed chest and tried to hug the kid, praying to the gods that Remy would allow him to hold him.
The Cajun cried for hours, when he had no more tears he shook with dry sobs that threatened to tear Logan’s heart apart. Nothing he experienced that night was worse than hearing those heart wrenching sounds. The depression, hurt … all that Logan couldn’t take away from Remy.
Instead he stroked his hair and murmured soft nothings, trying to soothe him, to let him know he wasn’t alone.
Finally, Remy fell asleep, lying on top of a blood covered Wolverine.
When the sun came up, Remy woke. He saw the bloody marks on the wide, hairy chest he was lying on and the events of the previous night came back to him. He wanted to jerk back but the strong arms that surrounded him, refused to let him go.
He looked up into gentle gray eyes and froze.
Logan stared at him with such joy, he couldn’t speak. The moment he heard the kid wake up he was terrified he’d find Remy in his animal-like state again. But when he saw the awareness and recognition in the Cajun’s alien eyes, his heart skipped a beat. Remy was back.
They stared at each other for an endless moment.
“I … hurt you …” Remy whispered hoarsely, his throat sore from the screaming.
“I love you,” Logan blurted out. He knew he should have said something different, assure him that nothing was wrong, but he was still terrified that he wouldn’t have another chance to say it. “I love you so much, Remy. I thought I’d lost you … I love you …” Logan realized he was loosing control but the need to tell all this to Remy was overwhelming. “Please believe me! Please! I know you’re an empath, read my feelings!”
Remy stared at him in shock. After all that he had done … and that dreadful night, Logan told him, he loved him?
“Please …” Logan begged, all his pride put aside. If he lost Remy, he lost everything worth living for.
Still shocked, but unable to resist, Remy reached out to Logan’s mind with his empathy. Tentatively, he lingered just at the edge of it. He remembered the ease with which he’d linked to Logan last night and was now surprised to find strong defenses in his way.
And, suddenly, they all were gone and his mind stood wide open to him and Remy understood that Logan gave in to him last night. He looked at all those powerful muscles and KNEW he would have had no chances at all in his weakened state.
Still unsure, he slipped into the mind of Wolverine and FELT. Felt all that love, guilt, the need to protect, the fear of loosing him.
It made his heart sing. He gasped at the sheer strength of Logan’s feelings. He … LOVED … him. The realization hitting him only now.
Slowly, still unsure of himself, he opened his own mind and let Logan feel HIS emotions. The soft, tender yet fierce, love he had for the older man.
He felt those strong arms pull him closer for a hug.
“Oh god … How I missed you. I thought I would never have you in my arms again …” Logan whispered, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips.
“Love you too, Logan. All that time … I just wanted to come back to you … just never thought it possible,” Remy whispered hoarsely.
Epilogue
Remy stood in the bathroom trying to comb his long, wet hair when the door opened. In the bathroom mirror he saw Logan in sweatpants. He smiled at his lover, who still wasn’t very awake.
His unruly hair stood up in every possible direction and his eyes were heavy lidded as he headed for the shower.
Logan stopped in front of Remy and pulled him close for a kiss. After two months, Remy was no longer stiffening in his arms. Although they didn’t have sex yet, they explored each others bodies with their hands.
They spent some serious time in bed together only touching and tasting, never taking it further, but Logan felt it was time to try something new. He knew Remy would never be able to have sex as a submissive partner because of what he’d endured but Logan had other ideas in mind.
“Morning, Cher,” the thief said, panting a little when Logan finally let him go.
“Morning, care to join me?”
Remy only laughed and shook his head. He knew that if he entered that shower they wouldn’t finish until noon.
“Non. I’m going to grab something to eat.”
Logan stroked the now healthy looking face and whispered, “I love you, thief.”
“Love you, too,” Remy answered and left the bathroom, giving Logan a playful swat on the ass.
Logan growled at him half-heartedly and stepped into the shower. He had some things to consider.
* * *
“Cher!” Remy called as soon as he entered the apartment he now shared with Logan.
“I’m in here!” Logan called from the bedroom.
When Remy entered the room he froze in awe.
Logan was doing his kata. He could do nothing but stare at the magnificent body, the hard muscles rippling under tanned skin, and lick his lips. His cock twitched in agreement as Logan went through the moves.
Remy noticed the way Logan’s nostrils flared and he knew the feral man was scenting the air, scenting his arousal.
“Fuck! I can’t concentrate!” Logan said and in one lightning-speed movement was right in front of Remy, kissing him passionately.
Remy tangled his hands in that unruly mass of wiry hair and moaned into the kiss. He found that Logan was VERY responsive to the sounds he made.
“Remy … I want …”
“Want what, Cher?”
“I wan’t you to make love to me … take me,” Logan said finally.
Instantly Remy started shaking his head. No! He couldn’t do this! The memories of that fatal night came back to him. He’d hurt Logan! He couldn’t risk doing that again.
“Non … don’ wanna hurt you Logan …”
“Shh … let us try, Darlin’. If you feel bad about it, we’ll stop.”
“Why do you want dis, Cher? After dat night …”
“I want you. I love you and I need to feel you.”
The red-eyed Cajun looked at him for a long moment before nodding.
Logan kissed him once more and soon the kid was panting again, they were trying to get their clothes off in a hurry to feel each others skin. It seemed as if the longer they were together, the stronger their desire was.
Soon they were lying on the bed touching, feeling, tasting each other in a frenzy. The hunger, their love for each other was overwhelming.
Logan rolled then so that Remy was resting on top of him.
“You sure, Cher?” the thief asked for the thousandth time.
“Yes. I wan’t you,” he caressed the handsome face with his fingertips. Both men were painfully aroused and needed release one way or another.
When Logan was sure Remy wouldn’t bolt on him, he reached towards the bedside table and took out a small bottle of lube. He smiled reassuringly at the thief and handed it to him. He laid back and slowly spread his legs for easier access.
Although Remy was hesitating, a little scared, he also caught the strong scent of arousal. It WAS turning him on.
At the first touch of a slick finger near his hole he consciously blocked memories. Now Remy was almost constantly in his mind and the last thing he wanted right now was a flashback of that terrible night when Remy broke down.
He moaned when that finger pushed inside. The intrusion wasn’t painful … just strange. He wasn’t sure he liked the feeling when the second finger joined the first one inside him.
Now he felt it more fully, the STRETCH, the actual penetration. Remy was murmuring soft, reassuring words and his free hand kept stroking his rock hard cock.
Slowly, Remy bent over and captured his lips, kissing him deeply and using his tongue to mimic what his fingers were doing inside his tight passage, while his other hand fisted him.
Logan could only melt under all that attention. He knew Remy was using his “Charm” on him and it was the reason the sensations seemed so intense, but he didn’t mind it. It took him long weeks to talk Remy into using his empathy openly on him. But it was a good decision.
He arched his back from the bed when there were THREE fingers inside him and they were touching THAT spot that made him almost levitate from the bed.
Then the sensation was gone.
He opened his eyes to look at the hooded, red on black eyes that were filled with desire and lust.
“Going to make you feel good, real good, Cher …” Remy whispered softly as he coated himself with lube. Logan licked his lips when the younger man positioned himself between his legs.
“Je t’aime, Logan,” Remy said as he slowly started pushing in.
Logan gritted his teeth at the PRESSURE and then exhaled as Remy sank into him in one, swift movement. It hurt a little, but nowhere near as bad as that night.
They both froze. Logan trying to adjust to the long, hard shaft inside him, stretching and filling him so completely and utterly. Remy trying to control himself and not hurt his lover. He closed his eyes and savored the hot, tight grip of his lover’s body on his cock.
“Yer gonna move or did you fall asleep there?” Logan asked him. Maybe he was a little uncomfortable, still not sure if he liked it or not, but he was also aroused so much that he DESPERATELY needed some kind of release.
Remy moved, thrusting the rest of his long shaft into his lover and pulling out slowly. Logan grunted at the strange feeling. Not bad at all …
Then Remy grinned in that wicked way of his and changed the angle of his thrust. Logan thought he would come right then. The feeling of the whole length of his lover’s shaft sliding across his prostate sent him flying. But that wasn’t all. Remy positioned himself so that he would hit that spot at each stroke in and out.
Soon Logan was writhing and thrashing under him, nearing his climax.
Remy leaned closer and kissed him, positioning so that with every thrust, Logan’s cock was caught between their sweat-soaked bodies and that friction was enough to push the Wolverine over the edge.
He came screaming his lover’s name. His orgasm hit Remy through their shared (empathic) link and the Cajun shuddered helplessly when wave after wave of pleasure shot though his body.
He collapsed against Logan completely spent and happy as never before.
He wanted to tell Logan how much he loved him, but he had no strength left to speak. So instead he linked to Logan’s mind and showed him his feelings. He was falling asleep fast and started losing control over the link.
He wanted to tell Logan how much he loved him, but he had no strength left to speak. So instead he sent his feelings through his link into Logan’s mind and showed him his feelings. He was falling asleep fast and started losing control over the link.
The last thing he remembered was warmth that engulfed him completely – mind and body, Logan holding him close.
THE END.
Pairing: Logan (Wolverine)/Remy LeBeau (Gambit)
Rating: Strong NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine so don't sue me
Warnings: graphic m/m sex. Alternate Universe.
Summary: Logan is a secret agent for the FBI gathering evidence against the mob. Remy is a spy hired by gangsters to become Logan's lover and spy on him. However, things go a little different than planned. There is not much action, just romance. Well kind of.
Thanks to: Linda (LS) for the greatest beta ever. You are the best
Part 2
It was a quiet night when two dark figures arrived on silent feet at the first wall surrounding Essex’s headquarters. They were moving like ghosts, the only sign of their movements were the soft sounds of their even, controlled breathings.
Logan watched the thief carefully. He was sure that Remy was hiding something from him when he’d explained his plan to him. Everything he said was just too smooth, too … something.
Remy looked at his watch and then nodded to Logan. His cell phone beeped once. It meant that Robert Drake, his friend and one of the best hackers to be found in the USA, had disabled the security system for exactly six minutes. That was all the time they had to find Scott and get him out of there. It was Logan’s responsibility to find him by scent.
They climbed the wall, carefully avoiding the security cameras and made their way to the main building. Once there, Remy took care of the door, which opened swiftly under his trained fingers.
Once inside, Logan took a deep breath. Everything was glass and steel, reinforced doors, cameras and a LOT of other things more suitable for a secret military base than a mob boss’s headquarters.
He sniffed the air and tried to find a familiar scent. They were lucky. Scott had been brought this way.
He motioned to the thief and started to follow the scent. The blood he smelled along with the scent disturbed him. He prayed that his friend was still well enough to escape.
The Cajun stepped silently at his side and Logan wondered just how many times he’d done something like this.
In his mind, Remy was desperately counting seconds. They had very little time. The first guard they encountered was taken down before he could comprehend what happened to him.
The same for the second and third. It seemed almost too easy. Both men felt the hair on the back of their necks stand up. Something was bound to happen. Something bad.
Logan stopped at an intersection. After a few seconds he choose the left corridor and started to move but a hand to his shoulder stopped him.
He looked questioningly at the thief. The man’s face, however, was a mask of concentration. The alien red on black eyes gave him the ability to see in complete darkness but in combination with his charge power he was able to see lasers.
The whole floor was literally covered with them.
Slowly he reached inside his trench coat and took a few cards out. They glowed fintly in the dark and then he threw them. As always he hit the bulls eye.
With soft booms, small explosions disabled the lasers. He smiled smugly, pleased with himself. Only then did he realize Logan’s eyes had been watching him carefully. He turned to look at him and saw Logan staring at his hands.
Logan could just wonder HOW powerful the kid was and how much of an idiot he was to believe the vulnerability of the thief.
Logan could just wonder at HOW powerful the kid was and how much of an idiot he’d been to believe the thief’s vulnerability.
Logan sniffed out the room where Scott was being held. His first instinct was to cut through the door but Remy’s hand stopped him again. He fumbled with the electronic lock and eventually they heard a silent “poof” when the hydraulic doors slid open.
The stench of fear and blood hit Logan right in the gut. He swayed a little. He didn’t hear the hiss Remy made when he saw the beaten, bound figure curled in a fetal position on the floor.
Scott’s eyes were covered with a wide piece of Duct Tape, his face bruised and covered in blood. He’d obviously received a hard beating. One of his legs was twisted at an unnatural angle.
“Scott!” Logan called, running to his friend while Remy watched the door.
“L…Logan?” Croaked the man on the floor. He coughed a little, speaking was obviously painful for him, “What took … you … so long?”
“Can you walk?” He asked while cutting the ropes. Scott winced as the circulation returned to his arms, bringing with it a tremendous amount of pain.
“I’m afraid … not.”
As tenderly as he could, Logan tore the tape away and had to grit his teeth in helpless fury at the sight of his friends face.
“Scott … I have your visor but …” Logan hesitated seeing that Scott’s face was a mess. His nose was obviously broken and his eyebrow had a deep cut. “You are in no condition to wear it.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes closed. Will you be able to get me out of here?”
The overwhelming feeling of guilt took Remy’s breath away. It was all because of him. If he hadn’t stalled for time this wouldn’t have happened. Essex knew how to hurt him the most. That man was a genius at manipulating people.
He should never have agreed to work with that man.
“Hurry up, Logan. De time …”
Scott’s head jerked at the unfamiliar voice.
“Who is it?” Scot asked.
Logan looked at the tall thief still guarding the door. Although his mind was occupied with something else, he did not forget his betrayal.
“No one Scott, no one worth attention …”
Remy took a step back as if slapped in the face. Merde it hurt. If he wanted, Logan could use words even better than his claws… Remy blinked a few times to get rid of the stinging and turn his face to hide emotions that threatened to overtake him. He was never one to show his weaknesses.
Logan took the exhausted man in his arms and lifted him carefully. Scott only gritted his teeth when his broken ankle was disturbed, but didn’t make a sound understanding the need to be silent.
They started to make their way back when all hell broke loose. All the alarms went off. The sheer volume of noise making them sway. Both men started running towards the door they’d come through.
“Fuck! We’ll never be able to get out of here!” Logan shouted when he heard the sharp raps of many booted feet approaching.
Suddenly something stopped him. Something wasn’t right. He turned around and saw Remy had stopped and was standing eight meters behind
“What…?”
“Remy lied, Cher …” The thief said in a strange voice, “He changed de plans.”
“What do you mean?! If you …”
“Logan.” Something in that even, plain voice stopped him. Only then did he smell the DESPAIR coming off the thief. “Remy want to help. You go save your friend …” While he was talking, he pressed a spot on the wall and suddenly a large block of steel comming from the wall started moving, slowly closing the corridor.
Remy didn’t move when it started separating him from Logan.
“Dese doors can be blocked … but only from de inside. I am sorry I hurt you Logan. Never wanted it to happen.”
Logan tried to make a move, drag the thief out of that fucking corridor while still he had the time, but when he stepped closer, a pair of cards appeared in Remy’s hands and he threw them in front of Logan. The explosions pushed him backwards, nearly causing him to lose his balance, but never threatening his life. It was only to stop him.
When the smoke disappeared, there was only a small space between the metal doors and the wall. During these last seconds while it closed, Remy took his glasses off and Logan was able to SEE the real emotions in them, overwhelming sadness, despair and guilt. A Guilt so strong that Remy was determined to do anything to erase it.
When there was just an inch of space left, Logan saw a single tear flow down that handsome face. He had no time to ponder it, however, because he heard the approaching footsteps in the adjoining corridor and when he looked back, the doors were closed. From behind them he heard the muffled sound of explosions.
Refusing to think about it he started running towards the exit with Scott still in his arms. He would take him to a safe place and then return for the thief. He would probably find his own way back, after all he knew the plans better…
However he was never given the chance to do so. When he left the building, heading towards the car in which Jean was waiting, he heard the sound of a helicopter leaving the building and then a powerful explosion, which caused him to fall to his knees. When he looked back all he saw was a blazing fireball.
Chapter 5
It had been a long month. A long 31 days. Scott had been released from the hospital and was now being nursed by a loving wife. Logan, in his trashed apartment, clung to the remains of the Cajun’s scent.
Remy was most likely dead. He’d had no chance of surviving. The building had been on fire for two days, it had taken the firefighters 48 hours to extinguish the blaze completely. The amount of bodies that had been found inside had been frightening, almost twenty-five people. All the corpses had been incinerated so identification was nearly impossible.
Logan entered the bedroom and sat on the bed. The sheets still smelled like him.
The first few days he’d spent trying to understand why Remy had done such a thing? Why had he sacrificed his own life? And the feelings he’d seen in his eyes before the door closed … was there something deeper? Love?
He groaned and covered his face with his arm. It was no use in tormenting himself like this. He could not bring the kid back. Nothing could.
Before he knew it, he fell asleep. A slumber with dark, haunting images that left him more exhausted than before. He’d hardly slept these past few weeks. Day and night the only thing he was able to think of was the beautiful Cajun thief. He kept wondering what would have happened if he’d been more … forgiving? Less feral? He should have seen the truth when the thief came here to help him find Scott. But he was too caught up in his own pain to see anything. Maybe, if he’d noticed that desperate wish to pay for his sins, maybe he would be able to save his life?
Soft knocking on his door woke him from a light sleep. The unfamiliar scent surprised him. Whoever was there smelled like … ice?
Curious he opened the door only to see a young man, blonde, athletic, not to tall. He was definitely a mutant. Logan’s nose was never wrong. And he was nervous.
“Yeah?”
“Um … Mr. Logan?”
“Yes, who are you?”
“My name is Robert Drake.”
“So?” Logan asked gruffly.
“I have something for you.”
“What?”
The blonde man reached into his pocket and took out three discs. Two of which looked painfully familiar.
Logan grabbed the kid by the collar and dragged him through the door, slamming him into the wall.
“What is this all about? Who are you? Where did you go these?” His face turned into menacing snarl.
“Remy told me to give it back to you.”
Logan let him go at once.
“Remy? Is he alive? Where …”
“He gave them to me a month ago and told me to wait three weeks before I gave them back. The third one contains a lot of data on Essex. Remy gathered the info personally. This stuff will allow you to put that bastard away for life.”
“Who are you?” Logan asked once again.
“A friend of Remy’s. I was the one who disabled the security system when you saved Scott Summers.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Suddenly the young man turned his gaze away. Logan knew he was hiding something.
“I’m not sure I should be telling you this. After all it was because of you that Remy went on that suicide mission. I knew there was no way out of that fucking headquarters. But he wanted to erase his guilt so desperately … I should have known,” he sighed. Then his eyes turned to ice and his voice had an edge of anger to it.
“It was your fault! You never gave him a chance.”
Logan wanted to growl, snap at the kid but couldn’t. After all he was telling the truth.
“I … he betrayed my trust. Worked for Essex. He …”
“He wanted to find his sister!”
“What?!”
“You never even asked him, did you?” Drake shouted, “When he came here to help you, you never even considered forgiving him … He worked for Essex because that bastard found his kid sister, that Remy lost years ago, and demanded those fucking discs in exchange for her address. Remy has no family, only her.”
Logan felt a sick feeling of guilt inside his chest and tried to swallow around a lump in his throat.
“You said ‘has’. Does that mean Remy’s alive?”
“I’m not sure you can call it that, but … yeah. He’s alive.”
“Where can I find him?”
* * *
He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t speak.
The only thing Logan could do was stare at the fragile figure on the hospital bed wired to so many machines that it was hard to even see the outline of the body. The sickness. The pain. The hurt he smelled coming off what used to be Remy made him sick. His face was bruised, his chest cut by knife or claws … the doctors couldn’t decide which. The skin on his wrists completely torn away leaving only raw flesh. The bruises and other small wounds covered every inch of his body. His long hair had lost it’s shine and spilled over the white pillow lifelessly just like the rest of him.
He looked so young. So fragile and vulnerable … so dead.
“What …” Logan croaked, unable to speak more.
Drake, standing beside him was also quiet. He, however, had time to get used to the sight of his friend. It still hurt, but he knew what to expect when he entered the room.
He didn’t warn Logan. He let him enter unprepared. He wanted to hurt him, cause him pain because he knew, Remy’d done it only for Logan. Silently, he watched the Canadian go pale and saw the sheer terror in his face.
“He was found four days ago. There are no life threatening injuries any more. His body is healing fine, the problem is his mind.”
Logan looked at him questioningly.
Bobby went over to the bed and pulled the thick gauze away to reveal opened red on black eyes. Eyes that didn’t react to his touch or presence at all.
“Remy …” Logan called brokenly, still expecting the thief to look at him, react. But there was nothing.
“What … what happened?”
Drake looked at him, took in the pain and after a long moment he answered.
“Remy is … was … an empath. Essex is a telepath. He tortured him from both physical and psychical sides. Dr. Xavier, one of the most powerful telepaths, said that there is nothing he can do. Remy’s mind … was overloaded with pain and suffering. Essex kept abusing him till he broke and finally stopped reacting to everything around him. When he lost the ability to feel pain, Essex got rid of him.”
Logan came closer and looked into the lifeless eyes that used to seduce him. He remembered the way Remy got him into bed. Using not words but touches, scents and sights. He understood him so well … If only he’d given the kid a chance to explain!
“The doctors say that … there are no chances of him coming back. Ever.”
“Remy … oh god … Remy …” Logan reached out a shaking hand and tried to touch Remy’s hand but the amount of IV’s and other tubes made it almost impossible. Finally he settled for the cheek.
Only his fingertips touched the cold skin. He shivered remembering that this skin used to be so warm, hot even …
When they made love that one time, Remy’s face had been flushed, eyes burning with lust and need that had been real. Only now, when his rage had died, did he remember the scents that were real. No one could fool his nose. The lust he smelled on the kid had always been true, the tenderness and trust also.
He remembered the way the kid had given his body to him. With complete and utter trust. He’d made that experience the most erotic memory he had. Now he was lying in that hospital bed without even the tiniest spark of life in him.
Logan tenderly pushed the dirty hair from his face, so focused on the thief that he didn’t notice Bobby, quickly blinking, leaving the room.
“I’m sorry, Darlin’. Oh, God I am so sorry …”
He closed his eyes while the memories came crashing down on him.
His apartment, that first night when he found the kid on his doorstep and then watched him change his clothes.
Logan stood in the entrance to the bathroom and watched the Cajun. He still hadn't figured out how the hell the kid got him to agree to him staying here.
Gambit slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slowly took it off. He seemed to not notice Logan observing him, but Logan knew better. He had caught the change in the kid's breathing. Still, he watched the muscles of those long arms rippling when he was undressing. Still the kid proceeded to undress…
There was something almost hypnotizing in the thief taking off one piece of clothing at a time.
He was beautifully built. His long slender, elegant body was definitely eye-catching.
The Cajun washed his hands and then unbuttoned his Levi's. There was a loud /slump/ when the wet material hit the floor. Remy was now standing only in his briefs and started to slowly unwrap the bandage from his left wrist. Never once did he take his glasses off.
"Why are you wearing glasses?"
Remy stilled, his head bent, completely focused on his wrist. Logan KNEW he wouldn't get an answer. The kid was like an oyster – kept his mouth shut. He refused to explain to Logan just exactly WHY was he sleeping on his doorstep. He merely stared at him in silence, smelling of fear, loneliness and despair.
Right now he wondered just how much of it had been the truth? Maybe he hadn’t been playing a game to seduce him? Maybe he he’d been showing his real face?
Then he remembered his words, so cruel and cold.
“Traitor!…I will never believe that you care about someone else other than yourself. After all you are nothing more than a whore for hire.”
He recalled the way Remy hadn’t defend himself. The way he lowered his head as if accepting those blunt words.
Only once did he react to Logan’s comments. In Essex’s headquarters, when Scott asked who was with him.
“No one Scott, no one worth attention …”
He SAW the way the kid backed away a little, the pain on his face before he regained his composure. The mask had shifted a little showing how much those words hurt him.
And that last image of him, the still live, like an action movie … those last seconds before the damned door shut.
Remy taking his glasses off.
Those red on black eyes filled with love he’d refused to see.
The single tear making it’s way down and that sad desperation in his face, the knowledge, the absolute certainty that Logan would never forgive him.
Logan squeezed his eyes wishing things were different. If only …
But there was no chance of changing the past. His mistakes always came back to haunt him.
He looked into that pale face and felt the hot wetness on his cheeks. There was a time when he vowed he would never cry. The first and the last time had been when Jean left him for Scott. He thought he’d loved her with all his heart. Now he knew it was a lie. That feeling in comparison to what he felt for the thief was nothing more than a crush.
The deep ache that seemed to cut through his soul like a hot knife made the beast inside him want to howl in pain. Tears ran freely down his face.
“Oh God, Remy …”
And the tide broke. Feelings, memories … everything came rushing back to him.
"Shh… cher, let Remy help… Let Remy take care of dis…" He whispered softly while touching the burning, thick cock, with only his fingertips.
“Traitor! …Whore for hire!”
“No one…”
“… I’m sorry I hurt you Logan. Never wanted it to happen.”
The only time Remy spoke in first person.
Logan needed to touch Remy so desperately. It seemed that all his being, his very sense of existence, closed in on this single desire. To touch. To feel. To make sure that there was even the tiniest spark of hope, of life left in the body on the bed.
“…Traitor…”
“…Whore…”
“…No one…”
“…Remy sorry…”
“…Kill you…”
“ The doctors say that … there are no chances of him coming back. Ever.”
“…are no chances…”
“…Ever…”
He gathered the lifeless body in his arms, seemingly not noticing the IV’s and tubes. He awkwardly pulled the upper body close to his chest and supported the completely limp head.
He couldn’t take it any more. Logan threw his head backwards and howled in pain, letting all the hurt and pain out, screaming his soul away.
Because he loved the man lying so lifelessly in his arms. And it was too late…
Chapter 6
Logan watched the still figure on his bed and wondered how had it all happened? When did his life turn into a disaster? He moved closer and pushed the still slightly damp hair off the Cajuns face. It had been three weeks since Drake had showed Remy to him. Essex’s trial had begun … the odds were, he’d be sentenced to life imprisonment. But Logan wasn’t interested in watching the trial. All he wanted was the young man to come out of his coma.
When Remy’s wounds healed, he was released from the hospital. Since he had no family, Logan decided to take him in. He felt as if he had a debt to pay … and he needed to take care of the thief.
During the last few weeks, spent sitting beside Remy’s bed and talking to him about everything and nothing, he understood just how much he loved him. He always felt uneasy around sick people. Maybe because he was unfamiliar with the constant physical illness due to his healing factor, maybe because of his somewhat animalistic nature … but taking care of Remy wasn’t like he thought it would be. Maybe it was because he loved the man? But he found infinite care and patience inside himself. He fed, dressed and washed the kid and there was never even a single uneasy thought about it. All he wanted was for Remy to get well again. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him. How much he cared, how much he regretted his cruel words.
“Remy …” He whispered softly, his feelings clear in his voice. “I wish you were here with me to watch the sunrise. It’s cold outside but the sun is bright …” his voice cracked a little. The doctors said it would be good to talk to Remy, because he may hear something, but they weren’t sure it would help.
But he tried. Talked and talked ‘till his throat had gone dry. He kept stroking the thief’s hair and telling him how it was outside. Finally, after what seemed like hours he could talk no more.
Slowly he moved the kid on the bed and lay next to him. Gently he wrapped his arms around the thin figure and pulled him close to his chest.
“Sleep now, Darlin’. It’s okay. I’m here, you’re with me. You’re safe … I love you Remy,” he whispered softly, nuzzling Remy’s neck and closing his eyes for a short nap. He hadn’t slept much these days and felt tired. Strangely tired. Like nothing he’d felt before.
The kind of exhaustion that reached down to his very soul …
* * *
Warmth.
He felt something warm engulfing him. His body had been cold and numb for so long. And silent.
Everything around him had been so silent … He couldn’t remember why or how he ended up in this strange place, but it didn’t bother him.
Thinking was hard. His mind seemed so lazy, thoughts so incoherent. He didn’t want to focus on anything.
His body was numb. He felt as if he was floating on the surface of water. Still … he was cold.
He longed to fall asleep again, to stop that chaotic train of thoughts. To sleep before the pain came back. Slowly he started drifting to numbness again but the warmth was just on the edge of his senses.
Warmth.
He tried to open his eyes, to see what it was, but couldn’t. His whole world consisted of endless blackness. But the strange, foreign feeling forced him to THINK. To focus on it. It was hard. Trying to understand just what it was. He wasn’t sure he even WANTED to do it.
Something inside him struggled against that decision, telling him it was better to stay here, like this, oblivious to the outside world.
* * *
Still sleeping, Logan felt the body beside him become gradually colder. Acting on instinct, he pulled the body closer, wrapping himself around it in order to give his mate his own body heat.
* * *
The feeling became more intense, as if it refused to be forgotten, pushed aside. It seemed to slowly creep closer.
Now it wasn’t something on the edge of his mind. It nearly touched him. Suddenly he was afraid. The HEAT was strange, foreign to him.
Part of him wanted to let it swallow him, to let him feel again but the other part of his mind refused, screamed to him to get away. Told him that the cold was good, the numbness was good. Because when he was numb, he couldn’t feel. No pleasure and no pain …
* * *
Logan woke up startled by the sudden stench of fear in the room. The body in his arms was completely rigid. The cold skin grey and covered in sweat. Logan knew something wrong was going on, but couldn’t understand just what it was.
Suddenly, Remy’s eyes snapped open. They were unfocused and looked fogged, as if he was heavily drugged.
“Remy …” Logan called softly, not wanting to spook him, “can you hear me?”
So very slowly the red on black eyes focused, first on his surroundings, taking in where he was, and then on Logan. For a long moment Logan thought he saw recognition in them but he was wrong. As soon as Remy understood that the weight above him was actually a man, he started struggling wildly.
Logan let out a surprised yelp when the scent of fear became sickening in its intensity and Remy’s nails started tearing through his flesh, drawing blood. The panic, the animalistic fear, above everything else, gave his still weak body a surprising strength. Remy should’ve been as weak as a kitten but he fought for all he was worth.
Knowing that restraining the kid would only make matters worse Logan backed off.
As soon as he was free, Remy bolted out of bed. His legs, not used to keeping his weight any more, gave up and he fell but kept crawling away from Logan, away from the large man.
Something inside Logan howled seeing Remy like this, scared out of him mind, reduced to animalistic behavior.
Remy curled into a protective ball in the farthest corner of the room, and hissed at Logan weakly when the older man tried to approach him.
The kid was obviously in pain. So many weeks without moving had taken its toll on his physical condition. Keeping that curled position must have been painful but the fear was stronger.
“Remy …” Logan tried once more.
The kid backed off even more, not trusting him, afraid and hissed with more force, baring his teeth. His eyes were bloodshot, wild and unfocused.
There was no way he could approach the Cajun without making him even more afraid. Instead, he slowly sank to his knees, sitting on the floor trying to look as unthreatening as possible and started talking to him. Just like he had, when Remy was completely catatonic. He was sure Remy didn’t understand a word. But the calm, steady sound of Logan’s voice did catch his attention.
Logan talked about his love for the young man, about all those weeks spent in the hospital by his motionless side, and about his decision to take care of him.
He talked for hours, aware of the sun going down and the ache in his muscles as he forced himself to remain in the same position for such a long time. He felt the pressure on his bladder but didn’t dare move. For some time now, the kid seemed to be listening to his voice. He was oblivious to the words he said but the timbre told him that Logan wasn’t going to attack him.
“Remy please … come back to me. I would do anything for you, anything. I am so sorry I didn’t give you a chance. It was my entire fault. If I hadn’t been blinded by my own anger and hurt I could have seen your hurt as well. When you came back to save Scott … you never even believed I would forgive you, didn’t you? You didn’t try to fight my words. Those cruel, unjustified words. I know that they hurt you more deeply than any knife. I am so sorry Remy … so sorry …”
He didn’t even notice he was crying until he smelled salt in the air. He wanted to wipe the tears away but then Remy moved and Logan froze, not wanting to scare the kid again. Slowly, Remy started crawling towards Logan, his eyes focused on something on his face. Logan didn’t dare to even breathe. He sat there still as a rock praying to every god he knew for his lover to come back to him.
When Remy reached him, he stopped about a foot away and hesitated. Logan wanted to encourage his lover but was afraid to make a gesture or a sound, because it could have the opposite effect of what he intended.
He looked at the skinny Cajun and suddenly noticed the way Remy always avoided his eyes, the way he crawled with his head low and hair over his eyes. For some reason he was afraid of eye contact and Logan took a risk. He closed his eyes and waited.
For a long moment nothing happened, all he could hear was the kid’s harsh, ragged breathing and the pounding of his heart and then he heard him move. Ever so carefully he crawled closer and reached a shaking hand to Logan’s face. Then the Canadian felt cold fingertips tracing wet trails on his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw Remy staring at his fingers and then slowly bring them to his mouth to lick the salty tears, tasting them with wary curiosity.
Logan felt new tears welling up in his eyes and blinked them away. He hated seeing Remy like this.
“Remy …” he whispered softly, but that was enough to break the spell and Remy jumped a good five feet away from him in one panicked movement.
Logan immediately stilled himself cursing his stupidity.
Then he felt it.
It took him a moment to realize that the feeling had been accompanying him for the last few days but he was so focused on Remy that he hadn’t noticed it.
There was a light tugging on the edge of his mind. Nothing irritating or threatening, more like a soft, hesitant presence.
“Remy is an empath” he remembered Drake saying.
Was it Remy? He desperately tried to remember what empath’s did. They could feel other people’s feelings and send them …
He focused on his love, the need to protect and cherish the Cajun, hoping he would pick it up and relax a little. He couldn’t understand words but maybe he could understand feelings?
Logan concentrated on the memories of Remy trying to seduce him, that time in his bedroom when he experienced a blowjob given by a man for the first time. He remembered the way the Cajun had intrigued and aroused him, the way he felt during their first and only night together.
Suddenly he heard a soft whimper from the kid. Slowly, Logan turned to face him and looked at the disheveled, still scared and now confused thief. He WAS getting the message but couldn’t decide if he liked it or not. But when Logan moved a little closer, Remy didn’t back off in panic.
Logan smiled at the small victory and proceeded to move closer, still not sure how close he would be allowed. And then Remy’s stomach growled. Logan stopped.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, but got no answer.
“Eat?” he tried once more, using only one simple word.
Remy looked at him, but there was no understanding in his eyes. At least the fear had receded.
Cautiously, Logan started backing off. He figured that getting up in front of the still crouching thief would be bad thing.
When he was nearly at the door he stood up.
“I am going to bring you something to eat … you just stay here, okay?” he asked, unsure. Remy only stared at him, not showing any signs of understanding.
Slowly, Logan made his way to the kitchen thinking about what had happened. His heart rejoiced at the thought that Remy wasn’t catatonic any more, but this wasn’t much better either. Right now he had problems with thinking of something to eat. For the past few months, IV’s had fed Remy. His stomach would refuse to keep anything heavy so he decided on a simple sandwich.
While he was preparing the light snack, his acute sense of hearing caught movement in the entrance to the kitchen. He pretended he didn’t feel the eyes observing him, nor that he noticed the crouched figure in the shadows.
When he finished, he wasn’t surprised to find nothing behind him. Slowly, he returned to the bedroom, the plate in his hands and found Remy curled in the corner. If it weren’t for his acute senses he would never have known about the thief’s little trip.
He put the plate on the floor and backed off till he was sitting on the bed. Just like he thought. Only when he was away did Remy approach the plate. Carefully, he sniffed the sandwiches and looked at them from every side, often casting a careful glance at Logan.
His stomach growled once more and, finally, Remy started eating. Logan smiled watching him. He had the feeling that everything would be okay. It had to be.
When Remy finished eating he backed to his corner once more. Logan could see he was tired. His eyes were drifting shut, but the kid fought it. He still didn’t trust Logan enough to fall asleep in front of the other man.
Understanding, Logan slowly shed his clothes, staying only in his sweats and crawled into bed. He turned off the light and pretended to asleep. After a very long moment he heard the even, slow breathing coming from the corner of the room.
Moving as slowly as possible, he got up and put a pillow and a blanked near the kid. He knew he would only wake him up if he tried to tuck him in, so he just left the items there, hoping Remy would use them if he got cold during the night.
* * *
Two weeks.
Two weeks since Remy woke up.
Two weeks without a word from his lover, only occasional hissing when the younger man felt threatened.
Two weeks of constant hope.
Two weeks of going to bed early and wishing desperately that the next day, when he opened his eyes, he would see Remy smiling at him … or at least recognizing him.
Remy seemed to remember what bathrooms were for, he knew how to use utensils but didn’t understand a word Logan said.
The presence in his mind was also strange. It appeared and left without warning. Sometimes it was strong enough that Logan could FEEL Remy in it. But mostly there was just pain.
He couldn’t remember if he’d ever hurt so much. He loved Remy with all his might but he started losing hope. He found himself slowly accepting the fact that Remy LeBeau would never be himself again.
Since awakening he hadn’t made any progress.
Right now, lying in his bed he decided to call Jean first thing in the morning. Until now he’d waited for Remy to heal himself, not believing that he would appreciate strangers messing around in his head, but there seemed to be no other way.
He closed his eyes desperately wishing to fall asleep to the sound of even breathing coming from the corner.
Remy refused to leave the corner, he did however accept some blankets and a mattress from Logan. But there still was no trust in the kid.
* * *
Logan woke up panting and sweating. He was having one of the wettest dreams of his life when his senses told him he was being observed.
He still had the taste of Remy’s skin on his tongue, the soft moans in his ears when he was jerked back to reality. His eyes snapped open, body tense and ready to fight any possible attacker when he saw a still to thin figure perched at the edge of his bed.
He blinked to adjust his eyes to darkness and saw the strangely focused look on the Cajun’s face that seemed so normal, so human right now.
It took him a moment to realize he had thrown his blankets off during sleep and his erection was clearly visible under the thin sweats.
Remy looked at his face and then at his body, pausing for a long moment at his groin.
Logan swallowed thickly wondering if his state had scared the young man. He remembered what the doctors told him, the internal damage – the tearing in his rectum, some of it obviously caused by sharp objects.
There was no doubt the kid had been sexually abused above mental and physical torture. The doctors told him that even if he survived, he would never react normally to sex. Ever.
Did he scare him?
“Remy …” he spoke softly, the sound of his voice didn’t scare the thief anymore. “You know I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. Never … trust me … please …”
Remy moved his eyes back to his grey ones. There was a strange understanding in those red on black eyes, the knowledge and awareness, but it only lasted for a second.
Then he felt the gentle touch in his mind. It was … different from what he was used to. Less shy, less frightened more … curious?
He sniffed the air trying to determine Remy’s emotions by his scent and he did feel curiosity.
Slowly, he relaxed his body and his mind allowing that foreign presence to seek his mind for whatever answer it needed.
He didn’t move when Remy scooted a little closer. Nor did he move when he felt the first shy touch on his chest. Cold, fragile fingers stroked him lightly, sliding just above his nipple. He failed to restrain a moan. He was still rock hard from the dream and his enhanced senses included hypersensitivity to touch. Usually, he was able to hide his reactions but it was months since he’d had sex and during the last few weeks he couldn’t even jack off because Remy was watching him too closely. His body was on edge. He got these wet dreams more and more often and when he woke up, hard and aching he couldn’t even relieve the need. Not with Remy pretending to be sleeping in the corner of the room.
He was jerked from his musings by the scent.
Fear mixed with arousal coming off Remy in great waves. He looked at the red haired man in front of him but the red bangs hid his eyes from him. Suddenly, there were TWO hands gliding along his chest.
Cold touch on his flat stomach that trembled just like his thoughts. He didn’t know what was happening. Should he be allowing it? Or should he stop the kid?
In the end, the decision wasn’t his. The moment he wanted to push Remy away, something changed. The kid looked upon him, eyes burning red with something that actually scared Logan – madness.
Anger, lust, hurt … hatred, everything mixed together and causing the red orbs to flare.
Something had changed, snapped in the Cajun and now all the hurt, pain and fear was seeking a way out. And Logan was his closest target.
“Re—” he wanted to call him again but the usually neutral presence in his mind changed.
Logan arched upwards, nearly coming off the bed, and roared in pain as an empathic attack hit full force on his exposed, unguarded mind.
The sheer amount of pain was threatening to turn him feral. Such hurt. He howled and thrashed on the bed not sure what was happening, his senses were obviously fooling him. He felt as if the skin of his wrists and ankles was being torn from his flesh. It hurt so much he started choking on his own screams. But that wasn’t the worst.
He felt the imaginary fists, heavy and skilled, coming down on his body. He actually heard the crushing of his ribs, the unbearable pain of drawing a breath in.
But still it wasn’t that bad. His feral side was near to overwhelming him and started pushing the presence from his mind and the feelings eased. When he felt the tortures go down his body he understood.
Somehow he was experiencing everything Remy had and consciously he surrendered his mind to everything. He willingly offered himself to the raging red eyes in front of him. He didn’t even notice the kid straddling his stomach when the incredible pain shot from his lower back up his spine. He felt as if he was being ripped apart, cut from the inside. The pain so strong, so maddening, that he couldn’t even scream. The sounds he made were nothing more that choked whimpers.
Vaguely, he was aware of other sounds accompanying him. Screams, whimpers and growls that came from the thin figure atop him.
When the pain subsided he was hit with a wave of anger so strong it made him sick inside. Remy was screaming, his eyes shut, obviously reliving it all again. He clawed with his short nails at his chest, ripping Logan’s skin and drawing blood from sensitive spots. He wanted to fight, his instinct told him to throw his assailant off, but he couldn’t. Some part of him told him that if Remy got it all out of him, he would be okay again.
He didn’t try to fight the fingers cutting into his skin, nor did he react at the fists that came afterwards. Hard, surprisingly fierce blows, cascading onto his jaw, eyes, nose. He felt it being broken and heal a moment later. He could taste his own blood, but he merely clenched his hands on the sheet to keep himself still.
Remy was now shouting something unintelligible, shaking like a man in agony and his eyes burned with red light, illuminated his still to skinny face with a demonic glow.
Logan’s senses were assaulted from inside and outside. He felt the blows but he also felt the empathic assault, oddly thankful for it. His instinct told him that there was still more to come. And he wasn’t wrong.
Instead of calming himself down, Remy seemed to go deeper and deeper into his madness now tearing Logan’s sweats to pieces. Logan understood he had to live through the sexual abuse that Remy had endured. He braced himself for everything to come.
His head was spinning when he felt the cold hand close over his still partially hard member and stroke it ruthlessly, squeezing painfully hard. He howled when his mind was again flooded with feelings, emotions, and memories. The fear, shame, despair … death wish. It all coursed through him like a train, leaving him hurting and gasping. The desperate strokes still managed to arouse him, because part of his mind knew it was Remy and wanted him. And that fact set him off even more.
Logan felt the short nails cut into the sensitive skin of his thighs and howled in pain. The sound ended abruptly when those nails scraped along his shaft causing him to bleed. He bit his own tongue, nearly choking on it. Tears were running down his cheeks while the assault continued. Remy kept punishing his body, him for everything HE had suffered.
Logan felt his legs being jerked open and KNEW what was coming. But he still didn’t want to fight Remy. He could do it, even with his mind practically fried from the emotions, he was still physically stronger and could take the kid down in a matter of seconds.
He was surprised at the kid’s strength, the amount of force he used to grasp his thighs and keep them open was painful.
Logan only managed to take a deep breath and prepare himself for more pain when he felt the pressure.
There was no hesitating, no feeling in it. Just hate, hurt and desperate need to hurt back. Logan heard the stief spit on his hands and probably lubricate himself and then he felt the flat head of the thief’s cock PUSH inside, tearing him open. Without any preparation, lubricant … nothing, the pain was unbearable. He FELT his insides being torn, the delicate surface of his rectum burned and he was sure his muscles were torn. His healing factor didn’t help either because as soon as the tears were healed the hard cock inside him tore him again.
The movement became faster when his own blood lubricated his passage. He never imagined that rape could HURT so much. He wasn’t aware he was crying not only for the young man thrashing so madly above him and shouting something no one could understand, but also because of the pain.
Suddenly, Remy slammed into him once more and stilled. Logan observed him cumming. Although his body seemed to find release, and he felt the hot seed being released inside him, he knew there was no pleasure in it.
As the spasms were coursing through the young man, silent sobs could be heard. He collapsed on Logan sobbing and crying and shaking, completely spent. The explosion of anger and hatred had exhausted him.
The menacing presence in his mind also receded. The softening cock slipped out of him and Logan released a strangled sigh, letting his body heal and cleared his mind of the pain. He refused to think about what happened.
Slowly, he untangled his hands from the torn sheets and put his arms around the shivering and sobbing young man on top of him.
His senses were assaulted with the odor of seed, blood, salt and sadness.
He felt tears dripping from Remy’s eyes onto his freshly healed chest and tried to hug the kid, praying to the gods that Remy would allow him to hold him.
The Cajun cried for hours, when he had no more tears he shook with dry sobs that threatened to tear Logan’s heart apart. Nothing he experienced that night was worse than hearing those heart wrenching sounds. The depression, hurt … all that Logan couldn’t take away from Remy.
Instead he stroked his hair and murmured soft nothings, trying to soothe him, to let him know he wasn’t alone.
Finally, Remy fell asleep, lying on top of a blood covered Wolverine.
When the sun came up, Remy woke. He saw the bloody marks on the wide, hairy chest he was lying on and the events of the previous night came back to him. He wanted to jerk back but the strong arms that surrounded him, refused to let him go.
He looked up into gentle gray eyes and froze.
Logan stared at him with such joy, he couldn’t speak. The moment he heard the kid wake up he was terrified he’d find Remy in his animal-like state again. But when he saw the awareness and recognition in the Cajun’s alien eyes, his heart skipped a beat. Remy was back.
They stared at each other for an endless moment.
“I … hurt you …” Remy whispered hoarsely, his throat sore from the screaming.
“I love you,” Logan blurted out. He knew he should have said something different, assure him that nothing was wrong, but he was still terrified that he wouldn’t have another chance to say it. “I love you so much, Remy. I thought I’d lost you … I love you …” Logan realized he was loosing control but the need to tell all this to Remy was overwhelming. “Please believe me! Please! I know you’re an empath, read my feelings!”
Remy stared at him in shock. After all that he had done … and that dreadful night, Logan told him, he loved him?
“Please …” Logan begged, all his pride put aside. If he lost Remy, he lost everything worth living for.
Still shocked, but unable to resist, Remy reached out to Logan’s mind with his empathy. Tentatively, he lingered just at the edge of it. He remembered the ease with which he’d linked to Logan last night and was now surprised to find strong defenses in his way.
And, suddenly, they all were gone and his mind stood wide open to him and Remy understood that Logan gave in to him last night. He looked at all those powerful muscles and KNEW he would have had no chances at all in his weakened state.
Still unsure, he slipped into the mind of Wolverine and FELT. Felt all that love, guilt, the need to protect, the fear of loosing him.
It made his heart sing. He gasped at the sheer strength of Logan’s feelings. He … LOVED … him. The realization hitting him only now.
Slowly, still unsure of himself, he opened his own mind and let Logan feel HIS emotions. The soft, tender yet fierce, love he had for the older man.
He felt those strong arms pull him closer for a hug.
“Oh god … How I missed you. I thought I would never have you in my arms again …” Logan whispered, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips.
“Love you too, Logan. All that time … I just wanted to come back to you … just never thought it possible,” Remy whispered hoarsely.
Epilogue
Remy stood in the bathroom trying to comb his long, wet hair when the door opened. In the bathroom mirror he saw Logan in sweatpants. He smiled at his lover, who still wasn’t very awake.
His unruly hair stood up in every possible direction and his eyes were heavy lidded as he headed for the shower.
Logan stopped in front of Remy and pulled him close for a kiss. After two months, Remy was no longer stiffening in his arms. Although they didn’t have sex yet, they explored each others bodies with their hands.
They spent some serious time in bed together only touching and tasting, never taking it further, but Logan felt it was time to try something new. He knew Remy would never be able to have sex as a submissive partner because of what he’d endured but Logan had other ideas in mind.
“Morning, Cher,” the thief said, panting a little when Logan finally let him go.
“Morning, care to join me?”
Remy only laughed and shook his head. He knew that if he entered that shower they wouldn’t finish until noon.
“Non. I’m going to grab something to eat.”
Logan stroked the now healthy looking face and whispered, “I love you, thief.”
“Love you, too,” Remy answered and left the bathroom, giving Logan a playful swat on the ass.
Logan growled at him half-heartedly and stepped into the shower. He had some things to consider.
* * *
“Cher!” Remy called as soon as he entered the apartment he now shared with Logan.
“I’m in here!” Logan called from the bedroom.
When Remy entered the room he froze in awe.
Logan was doing his kata. He could do nothing but stare at the magnificent body, the hard muscles rippling under tanned skin, and lick his lips. His cock twitched in agreement as Logan went through the moves.
Remy noticed the way Logan’s nostrils flared and he knew the feral man was scenting the air, scenting his arousal.
“Fuck! I can’t concentrate!” Logan said and in one lightning-speed movement was right in front of Remy, kissing him passionately.
Remy tangled his hands in that unruly mass of wiry hair and moaned into the kiss. He found that Logan was VERY responsive to the sounds he made.
“Remy … I want …”
“Want what, Cher?”
“I wan’t you to make love to me … take me,” Logan said finally.
Instantly Remy started shaking his head. No! He couldn’t do this! The memories of that fatal night came back to him. He’d hurt Logan! He couldn’t risk doing that again.
“Non … don’ wanna hurt you Logan …”
“Shh … let us try, Darlin’. If you feel bad about it, we’ll stop.”
“Why do you want dis, Cher? After dat night …”
“I want you. I love you and I need to feel you.”
The red-eyed Cajun looked at him for a long moment before nodding.
Logan kissed him once more and soon the kid was panting again, they were trying to get their clothes off in a hurry to feel each others skin. It seemed as if the longer they were together, the stronger their desire was.
Soon they were lying on the bed touching, feeling, tasting each other in a frenzy. The hunger, their love for each other was overwhelming.
Logan rolled then so that Remy was resting on top of him.
“You sure, Cher?” the thief asked for the thousandth time.
“Yes. I wan’t you,” he caressed the handsome face with his fingertips. Both men were painfully aroused and needed release one way or another.
When Logan was sure Remy wouldn’t bolt on him, he reached towards the bedside table and took out a small bottle of lube. He smiled reassuringly at the thief and handed it to him. He laid back and slowly spread his legs for easier access.
Although Remy was hesitating, a little scared, he also caught the strong scent of arousal. It WAS turning him on.
At the first touch of a slick finger near his hole he consciously blocked memories. Now Remy was almost constantly in his mind and the last thing he wanted right now was a flashback of that terrible night when Remy broke down.
He moaned when that finger pushed inside. The intrusion wasn’t painful … just strange. He wasn’t sure he liked the feeling when the second finger joined the first one inside him.
Now he felt it more fully, the STRETCH, the actual penetration. Remy was murmuring soft, reassuring words and his free hand kept stroking his rock hard cock.
Slowly, Remy bent over and captured his lips, kissing him deeply and using his tongue to mimic what his fingers were doing inside his tight passage, while his other hand fisted him.
Logan could only melt under all that attention. He knew Remy was using his “Charm” on him and it was the reason the sensations seemed so intense, but he didn’t mind it. It took him long weeks to talk Remy into using his empathy openly on him. But it was a good decision.
He arched his back from the bed when there were THREE fingers inside him and they were touching THAT spot that made him almost levitate from the bed.
Then the sensation was gone.
He opened his eyes to look at the hooded, red on black eyes that were filled with desire and lust.
“Going to make you feel good, real good, Cher …” Remy whispered softly as he coated himself with lube. Logan licked his lips when the younger man positioned himself between his legs.
“Je t’aime, Logan,” Remy said as he slowly started pushing in.
Logan gritted his teeth at the PRESSURE and then exhaled as Remy sank into him in one, swift movement. It hurt a little, but nowhere near as bad as that night.
They both froze. Logan trying to adjust to the long, hard shaft inside him, stretching and filling him so completely and utterly. Remy trying to control himself and not hurt his lover. He closed his eyes and savored the hot, tight grip of his lover’s body on his cock.
“Yer gonna move or did you fall asleep there?” Logan asked him. Maybe he was a little uncomfortable, still not sure if he liked it or not, but he was also aroused so much that he DESPERATELY needed some kind of release.
Remy moved, thrusting the rest of his long shaft into his lover and pulling out slowly. Logan grunted at the strange feeling. Not bad at all …
Then Remy grinned in that wicked way of his and changed the angle of his thrust. Logan thought he would come right then. The feeling of the whole length of his lover’s shaft sliding across his prostate sent him flying. But that wasn’t all. Remy positioned himself so that he would hit that spot at each stroke in and out.
Soon Logan was writhing and thrashing under him, nearing his climax.
Remy leaned closer and kissed him, positioning so that with every thrust, Logan’s cock was caught between their sweat-soaked bodies and that friction was enough to push the Wolverine over the edge.
He came screaming his lover’s name. His orgasm hit Remy through their shared (empathic) link and the Cajun shuddered helplessly when wave after wave of pleasure shot though his body.
He collapsed against Logan completely spent and happy as never before.
He wanted to tell Logan how much he loved him, but he had no strength left to speak. So instead he linked to Logan’s mind and showed him his feelings. He was falling asleep fast and started losing control over the link.
He wanted to tell Logan how much he loved him, but he had no strength left to speak. So instead he sent his feelings through his link into Logan’s mind and showed him his feelings. He was falling asleep fast and started losing control over the link.
The last thing he remembered was warmth that engulfed him completely – mind and body, Logan holding him close.
THE END.
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no subject
Date: 2007-09-25 09:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-25 10:13 pm (UTC)Remy was never included in the movies even though he is important in the comic. He is complex and he always seemed to get the short stick, poor guy. All my x-men fics are of this pairing but only two of them actually have a plot he he
I will probably post more while waiting for my beta to show any signes of being alive.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 10:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 10:26 am (UTC)