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Part 7 Figuring It Out
Remy left his room and waltzed down the steps like he owned the world-- and in a sense, he did. He had everything he wanted and he smiled lopsidedly at that thought, looking back over at Logan.
Grinning, Logan said, “Don't trip.” He got out to the front hall and grabbed his denim jacket. “I'm drivin.” Because that's how it's gonna be, he justified to himself.
Remy hadn't forgotten his jacket and was ready to go anywhere. He stopped short though. "Um... Logan... we takin' a car?" he asked.
Looking over at Remy, Logan said, “You do remember what happened to my bike, right? Get in the jeep.” He was actually crazy enough to open the passenger side door for him, trying to act like it was just a slip-up, not being gentlemanly or anything.
"Well, my bike is fine," he said. It sounded like an argument, but it was a defense of his knowledge of the past. However, he wasn't really pleased with how it looked so banged up when they went to the garage.
Grinning, Logan said, “Just get in.” He climbed in the driver’s seat and started the car. Remy climbed into the passenger's side and relaxed. "You drivin'; I'm buyin'."
“Yer not buyin’.” Logan opened the garage door and pulled out.
"What?" Remy objected. "Oh, c'mon. Like it'd hurt y' manly pride t' let y' date pay?"
“It would,” he smirked a bit and started off. “My manly pride is a fragile thing.” He rummaged around in his jacket pocket for a cigar, biting off the tip and spitting it out the window. He struck a match with one hand and started smoking. Remy sighed and leaned back, watching Logan. The smell of the cigar wasn't exactly his thing, but they did remind him of Logan. Remy wondered what he did with the rest of those cigars Courier gave him....
Puffing a bit, he saw Remy watching, and held the cigar out to him like maybe he was hungering for it.
Remy held up his hand in decline. "Tanks, but cigarettes're m' poison," he said casually.
Shaking his head, Logan said, “Smokin's bad for ya. You should quit.”
Remy balked at that. "Excuse me??!!" he said outraged. “Mr. Hipocrite incarnate," he muttered.
Logan grinned. “Said it was bad fer you... Innt bad fer me...” Logan winked at him.
"Fuckin' makes me wan' m' healin' factor back," he huffed.
Looking over at him, Logan found that he adored Remy. He wished that, too. “Yeah... but since ya don't, you should take care a yerself.”
Remy wasn't sure he would ever truly want it back because of what he had to go through to get it removed, along with all the other side effects, but it was a whistful feeling anyway. "I know. I don' really wanna quit," he complained. "I mean, come on, I've only got a year's wort' o' smoke damage even dough I been smokin' f' seven."
Looking at him, then at the cigar between his fingers, he offered, “I'll quit if you quit.” Oh, god, I sound like a fuckin’ high schooler.
Remy looked over to Logan, startled. "What? Why? Y' shouldn' have to."
Shrugging, he said, “Just thought...” He shook his head, unable to explain it. “Just thought I'd... support ya...” He wanted him to stop smoking so he wouldn’t die of lung cancer or something.
Remy looked at the dashboard with a small smile on his lips. "Tanks, Logan. I'll tink about it, but I can't promise nothin'. Sides, you want me to not die early, you should stop smokin' anyway so de fumes don' get t' me. I mean, really, Logan-- how much of a difference you tink it's gon' make wit’ de lives we lead?" He supposed that it could mean a lot, especially when they got older and age became more pronounced... but that seemed so far off.
Looking at Remy for a minute, Logan chucked his cigar out the window, saying nothing. He hadn’t thought of that. He suddenly saw a few years in the future when he still looked like he did then and Remy looked weathered and worn... His heart hurt. An odd idea occurred to Remy, then and he wondered if he could pull it off. He knew that Warren and Josh could heal people, but he didn't know if they could grow things back that were completely removed or burnt out... he was silently contemplating that, with a scowl and wondered even if he could get it all back, would he would want to? He had sacrificed an awful lot to not have that instability in his life. He also didn't want to hurt anyone, even on accident... but he had been able to control his powers a lot more finely when he got them back full force....
Looking over at Remy, Logan was a little afraid he was being too pushy. He pulled into a parking space at the little gin joint and looked over at him. Remy looked up at Logan when he realized that he was being watched. "Oh, sorry. Was tinkin'." He looked at Logan’s deep blue eyes and gave a small smile.
“Don't hurt yourself,” he said and hopped out of the jeep, going around to the other side and opening the door for Remy... but casually, don't get any big ideas or anything. Remy raised an eyebrow at Logan, but got out of the jeep. He was tempted to stick out his arm so they could go in arm in arm, but he wasn't about to embarrass Logan that way.
Opening the door to the place for him, too, he didn’t mind the looks from the truckers and bikers... yet... He sat down at a table, getting comfy. “So, what ya thinkin’ about?”
"Oh, jus... de ol' healin' factor. Wonderin'... if I could get it back... would I? Y'know? I feel like... it wouldn't be right t' have it back when I gave up such a huge part o' m' soul t' have it removed." He even thought the Morlocks might curse him from their graves. Like they weren't doing that enough already. He got very solemn and quiet.
Kicking Remy under the table, Logan said, “Hey. Don't get melancholy on me... Told ya a thousand times already that weren't yer fault... Sides, cheer up... Yer out with the handsomest guy this side a New Jersy.” Grinning up at the pretty young waitress who came to take their orders, he asked, “Izzunt he?”
The waitress thought it was the other way around, but nodded with a bright smile. "You fellas know what you want?" she asked cheerily.
Logan saw that and grunted in mock hurt. “I'll have a beer.”
Remy turned a dashing smile on the waitress and said, "A merlot, pour moi, s'il vous plait." He didn't drink beer. He turned back to Logan and the smile he gave him was sincere. "I tink I got better eyes dan de femme," he commented after she left.
“I think she can see just fine,” he said winking at him. “Still not gonna tip her well, though.”
Remy chuckled and placed his arms on the table in front of him, slightly leaning over them. "You insultin' Josh's healin' job," he commented.
Snorting, Logan said, “He mighta fixed yer eyes but not the way yer brain interprets that information.”
"Non, dat's been pristine f'ever."
Chuckling at Remy, he thought he was damn cute. “So, what'll it be tonight, Cajun?” He was looking for something... well... meaty, obviously, lifting his menu over his face.
Remy smiled satisfactorily that he had won that little battle. He looked at the menu and was in the mood for something with a bunch of carbohydrates. He really wanted some Jambaliya, but knew that he couldn't get any that was decent within an hour's drive. He decided on the chicken fettuccini and set the menu down.
Deciding to not pay attention to the bikers and truckers looking at them all funny like, Logan was very unintimidated since he knew Remy and he could make jelly of them with ease, but still bristled at the stares and glares. “Hmm.” He put the menu down. “And to think we coulda been eating twinkies.”
Remy laughed at that openly. "I honestly don' know why de man tinks dat cookin' is like a science project, but he seem to," he chuckled. Logan smirked lopsidedly, and wanted to scratch an itch with a razor-sharp claw, just so those damn truckers would wise up, but he decided to wait until after he had been fed. “Hank’s a good guy, but Scott should take him offa cookin' duty just fer the good a the team.”
"Logan, if Scott did dat, it'd be me cookin' every friggin' night!" No one could cook like Remy.
Shrugging, Logan said, “So what? Yer not bad an' ya look hot in an apron.”
Remy smiled, with a little blush creeping up on his face. "Tanks." He was expecting Logan to get mad at the implication that no one else in the mansion was good at cooking, but he supposed the prospect of Remy cooking every day wasn't a bad one from Logan's viewpoint.
Logan chuckled a little at Remy. “Yer blushing.” He could feel it more than see it.
"Y' don' have ta point it out," he said and got even redder.
Logan laughed harder, leaning into Remy. “Look at it... I can track the progress...” He could see it rising over his cheeks and going up to his forehead.
"God damnit—stop dat!" he shouted looking away from Logan, fiercely trying to ignore the heat in his face as it grew.
Laughing hard, he wanted to touch him, but resisted the urge. “Yer cute when ya blush... Oh look,” he said and nudged his foot. “Yer girlfriend's back.” He smiled at the waitress.
Remy chuckled and took a sip of his wine as soon as it was set in front of him. He hoped that it would calm him down. "'Allo, cherie," he said to the waitress who smiled brightly at Remy's accent. The women always loved the accent.
"You fellas figure out what you want to order or should I give you a couple more minutes?" she asked as a standard waitress would.
Rolling his eyes, Logan noticed Remy was laying it on a little thick, and ordered for Remy in a little bit of a possessive gesture. “Fer me, a bloody steak, fer that swamp rat over there, some chicken fettuccini.”
"All... right," she said as she jotted it down on a pad. She asked Logan if he wanted whatever assorted sides and Remy if he wanted garlic bread or cornbread. Remy opted for the cornbread.
Grunting for his answers, Logan raised his eyebrow at her as she walked away, and looked back at Remy. “She's smitten.”
"Dey always are. Enh, it's gon' be easier for dem now, dough," he said casually, sticking his hands behind his head.
Shaking his head at Remy, Logan asked “Whaddya mean?”
"De good ones're always gay," he winked at Logan with half his mouth upturned.
Snorting, Logan said, “Yer not gay, Remy.” He smirked back at Remy, displaying his mighty fine smirk as well.
"Oh, I'm not?" he challenged. "What would y' call dat episode in my room about an hour ago? It don' get much more gay dan dat, Logan."
“You still like the ladies. That's the difference, kid.” He was in fact a bit intimidated by how much Remy liked the ladies, but wouldn't let him see that. “Y' said it yerself you like women more.”
"I—" Remy looked at the table. "It... feels different, dat's all. I mean, you can imagine, right?" He looked pretty self conscious at that moment.
Suppressing the desire to smirk at him again, as well as the desire to be sarcastic, Logan said, “Yeah. I can imagine fuckin' a man is different than fuckin a woman.”
"Should I fuck y'r ass when we get home t' illustrate de differences?" he asked quietly. Remy heard sarcasm in his words, even though the intonation wasn't meant to be sarcastic.
Eyebrows going up, Logan took a drink. “Christ, kid,” he said putting the beer bottle down with a thunk. “I've had it before, Remy, I'm well aware of the differences.”
Remy blinked at Logan. "Really?" He didn't believe the man.
“Yeah.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. He crossed his arms unintentionally. “You sure you can do without the females?” He was very casual in the asking of that.
Remy saw Logan's reluctant body language and steered clear of the topic of penetration. "Sure can," he purred to Logan. He hoped somewhere off in the future that he would get to have Logan's ass, but from the way he was acting, it wouldn't be any time soon. As long as Logan was... not hurting him, he would be perfectly happy with him.
Snorting at him, he said, “Guess time will tell, huh?” He took another sip of beer, still a little reluctant to unravel. He looked around. “We bettin' tonight? On a game a pool?”
"Bettin'?" Remy's face became a study in cockiness. "Remy never could turn down a friendly bet."
Winking at him, he said, “Whatt're the stakes?”
"Hmmm," he cooed. Dis could get interrestin'!
Raising eyebrow at him, he asked, “What's on yer mind?”
"I'm havin' ideas... but I'm not sure if y'd like dem or not," he smirked.
“Too shy ta say it in public, pretty boy?” he asked with a sharky grin again, baiting him.
Oh, dat's a challenge of my pervertedness, an' nobody tops dat! "Let's play f' pleasure," he said, evilly. "If you win, I'll do whatever y' want-- no limit t' what y' can do, or have me do. If I win, I get t' do whatever I wan' wit' you." An' ideas were already a brewin'. "Money just sounds so... mediocre to play for, don'cha tink?"
Eyeing him a little, Logan leaned forward and said very quietly with a steady growl, “I was under the impression... That I could do whatever I wanted with you... any day of the week.” He would never admit it to Remy, but would he rather die than be assfucked. He had issues with it.
Remy smiled brightly at that. "Den you name your terms, 'cause I ain' so sure I can do what I wan’ wit' you," he purred. "An' I want to," he said raising his eyebrows a few times. Remy, of course was unaware of how much of a problem it would be for Logan and was joking, without knowing the effect he was actually having.
Logan was very tempted to say 'if I win, you have to be faithful to me' but trusted that wouldn’t go over well with him. “Lemme think about it...” He looked up at waitress as she brought the food. “What should I make him give me if I win at a game a pool?”
The waitress smiled at Logan a little nervously. "Oh, I don't know. I think what I would want from him would be different than what you would want from him..." She meant to be joking and flirty, not knowing how close to the mark she really was with that statement
Grinning and chuckling in that rich, manly way, Logan wasn’t mean enough to embarrass her further and just said, “I wouldn't be too sure about that... Thanks, doll.”
She smiled uncertainly at him and leaned down to Remy. "You be careful, honey," she said under her breath as she set down his food for him, so that a normal person wouldn't be able to hear her, but she didn't know that Logan could hear better than most dogs. Remy smiled to himself, not looking at the woman, just waiting for Logan's reaction.
"Merci," he said to the waitress, still not looking at her.
Ducking his head and chuckling even harder, Logan tried to not let her know that he heard. He waited for her to leave, then leaned into Remy and said, “Y' better be careful with men like me, pretty boy. We're dangerous.”
"I know you are," he smiled. "So, what do you want from me dat I... wouldn't ordinarily give you...? You could have my bike... such as it is," he said, referring to its recent fall.
Looking over at Remy, he said, “The Salvation Army wouldn't take that bike, kid.”
Remy chuckled. "I'll have t' get a new one anyway," he thought.
Idly, Logan said, “Think she's gonna rally up a group a roughs ta make sure I don't drug you an have my wicked way with your prone form?”
"If she does rally some o' dese meat heads, I'll just have ta fend dem off just like I always do." He sighed heavily as if he were being put upon to have people adore him.
Narrowing his eyes at him, still grinning, Logan said, “Must suck to make everyone want to lick your feet, huh, Cajun?”
"It's not m' feet dey wanna lick, cher."
Raising eyes innocently, he asked, “What is it they wanna lick, then?” He just wanted to hear him say it.
Remy lifted one eyebrow as if he recognized the challenge, but didn't believe it. "Hmm... how to put it politely...." He shrugged. "No way to put it politely," he said and smiled as if that were his answer.
“Such a gentleman, Le Beau.” He really wanted to tear into the meat like a real man should tear into meat, but took pity on Remy and used utensils, still chuckling to himself about the girl warning him—even though she was probably right.
"Dat's just m' cover," he waived off the comment with the elegant sweep of his hand. Then, he turned to his food using a spoon with his fork to eat the pasta.
Logan could just start snickering at him again, but decided to let it go in favor of the tasty red-as-blood-and-still-dripping steak.
Remy smiled at Logan as he ate his food, half expecting him to pop a claw and use it instead of his knife. Then Remy started having thoughts about Logan's teeth and what they had done to his neck. The fear of Logan biting into him that way made his heart race, but the danger made the blood pump to his cock too. It was so hot getting marked by Logan.
Blinking a little bit... Logan smelled something. He looked up at Remy curiously. “That must be some damn fine pasta.”
Remy looked up at Logan, confused. He had after all, just had his fantasies interrupted by, well, his fantasy. He smiled at the thought, waiting for Logan's reply.
Snorting at him, he shook his head, and went back to eating. “You get turned on by everything, Cajun.”
"De drop of a hat," he commented.
Tilting his head a little, Logan asked, “Y'all right?” Remy smelled funny.
"Sure, I'm all right. It's been a long while since I felt dis good, actually," he smiled reassuringly to Logan.
“Yer hearts beating like a taiko drum.” He could hear it all the way over where he sat. He looked around to see what might have spooked him... or turned him on... or whatever the hell he was.
"Oh, I'm sorry, homme." It wasn't often that he got turned on by food, and this wasn’t looking to be one of those times. Remy tried to still his emotions, hoping he wasn’t making Logan uncomfortable. They were in public after all. Taking deep breaths, he figured it was good practice to be able to control his body's reactions to his emotions... and maybe even the emotions themselves, if he got good enough. His eyes closed as he attempted it and tried to clear his mind and think of calming things... like math. He wasn't aroused by math in the slightest.
Logan eyed Remy. “What're you doin’, kid?”
"Jus' calmin’ down for y'," he said placidly.
Tilting his head, he said, “Don' worry bout it... Smell all kinda things all the time.” Although you are admittedly different.
"Okay," he said. Now that he had done it, he wasn't about to go back. He might naturally become inclined (or very steeply inclined) later in the evening, but he wasn't going to force it. Although, it would be an interesting exercise-- to see if he could feel an emotion without having the provocation there.... Hmm... gon' have ta try dat some time.
Remy turned back to his food and asked, "So, y' gon tink 'bout gettin' anoder bike any time soon?"
Letting out a hearty belch and leaning back, Logan noted that he inhaled that thing. Y”' got some sauce on your face,” he said and touched his own chin to show Remy where it was. “Thinkin' about it. Definitely thinking about it...”
Remy tried to reach it with his tongue, but didn't think he was successful, so he wiped at it with his fingers. "What kind?" he asked.
“Thought a just guttin’ a few machines an makin’ one a my own... Haven't done that in a while...” He grinned at him. “Still there.”
"Y' sure dat's not jus' dried cum y' left on me?" he asked, slightly irritated.
He could feel his body bristle pleasantly at that. “Not unless my come has a hint a garlic,” he said and reached over and cleaned him up with his finger.
"Y' salty," he suggested. That was used for cooking. He just about burst out laughing at the thought of Logan's cum as an ingredient in food. But it tastes nice, he thought.
Grinning, he stretched out, waiting for Remy to finish up. “Y' ever built yer own bike before?”
Remy shook his head. "Never had de time, really. I fixed 'em up, but never built one from scratch—or parts, f' dat matter."
“You should help me with it... I could teach ya how if yer interested.”
"Yeah, I'd like dat." Remy tried to hurry with his food, but it was a bit more than Logan's steak.
“Don't rush, Remy, don't want ya wakin’ me up all night with yer indigestion.” He noticed the waitress look at him suspiciously, and he grinned at her.
Remy stopped in mid-bite. Y'... plannin' on sleepin' wit me? he thought. They had spent a night together already, but he didn't think it would be a consistent thing. He smiled around his food as he completed the bite and his grin was pretty lop-sided. He chewed slowly, savoring the taste and feeling peaceful.
Suddenly Logan blushed, realizing he unintentionally showed his hand. “That is...” he shrugged, “Iffin ya wanna sleep with me…”
Remy nodded. After he finished his bite of pasta, he said quietly, "I'd like dat a lot."
Nodding, Logan said, “Yeah.” He really would, too. “We don't have to every night if ya don't wanna... Not like I'm movin’ in or anythin’.”
"Why don' we take it on a night by night basis, oui?"
Raising his eyebrows, Logan chuckled. “A night by night basis sounds just like you, Cajun.”
"Hey, I'm tryin' t' move toward consistency, here," he objected.
“Consistency, huh? In that case, I'll try to work toward... trust.” Logan gave him a funny smile.
Remy felt that pang run through him, but held onto his emotions. He supposed that was all he could ask for. He tried to keep his face a mask of calm, like his poker face, but without the cards in front of him, it didn't seem to have its magic. He nodded, stiffly.
Logan could feel him go rigid. You can’t hide a thing from me, Cajun, poker face or no... But he didn’t know what to do about it. He kicked Remy’s foot apologetically under the table.
Remy felt the foot tap and looked up at Logan. "Sorry, homme. Y' gon' stick wit de Harely's or go for somethin' with better timing?" he asked, a brittle smile being forced into place.
He watched Remy very closely with those piercing blue eyes. “Probably a little Harley, a little Yamaha, a little Honda... Maybe a bit a Indian ta make it a real mutt.”
Remy balked. "Y'—y'tink it'll work?" he asked incredulously.
Logan snorted. “I know it will, Remy... It's a machine, not like ya gotta match blood types or anything.”
"Yeah... but all de pieces have ta fit t'geder—I—never heard of anybody doin' dat..."
Lifting his eyebrows, Logan said, “Shit, back in the old days, me an Cyke could make a motorcycle outta a little red wagon!”
Remy burst out laughing at the thought of Scott and Logan working on anything cooperatively.
Logan grinned fondly. “Hank, too... He liked to make little remote controlled cars that Kurt would invariably break... But then the Prof let us get our hands on the blackbird and it was all over.”
Remy started laughing harder and harder as Logan went. He tried to keep it down, but was nearly in tears from laughter. "I'm sorry—I'm sorry, but dat's—remote control cars?" he said and broke out laughing again. It just didn't seem like an activity grown men would participate in.
Grinning, he said, “There were only two women on the team and one of ‘em was taken and the other one would blast us with lightening if we made a pass at ‘er! What were we supposed ta do!?”
Remy chuckled at that. Stormy was always pretty regal and reserved, but Remy trusted that if he wanted to... they could probably have had a relationship. He didn't want one, however. It would get in the way of their friendship and he cherished that. He had come so close to losing it before... after Antarctica. He quieted down, still smiling, but with chilling thoughts breezing through his mind.
Logan raised his eyebrow. “Whatcha thinkin’?”
"Jus' 'bout Stormy. Hope she's all right. She ain' had much luck in de romance department." He smiled slightly. "Guess a big part o' dat was self inflicted," he observed with a shrug.
“Yeah... You talked to her since you've been back?”
"Not since I been back from New Orleans, non. I should do dat an' catch up."
“I bet she misses ya.” He would never tell him she smelled like a bitch in heat whenever Remy was around.
"I'll talk to her once we get back."
Seeing the waitress Logan asked for the check, then looked at Remy. “Sorry... Y' done?”
"Yeah," he said, finishing up the last few bites. He figured that with the way the waitress was eyeing them that Logan wouldn’t want to stick around.
Logan actually wouldn't have minded, not being very intimidated by little girl who thought he was a sleazy old pervert. He grinned at Remy. “Still up fer pool?”
"Hell yeah," he said and scooted out of his seat. He was looking forward to playing with Logan, but the man still hadn't given his terms.
Winking at the waitress Logan followed Remy to the back near the bar. “She really thinks I'm some sorta sexual predator.” He realized that she was not far off.
"She can tink what she like, homme." Remy moved in between him and the waitress.
Snorting, Logan grabbed Remy and pushed him playfully toward the pool table. “Tryin' t' protect me?” Logan chuckled and grabbed a pool cue.
Catching his eyes, Remy smiled. "I'm gon' clean y' clock, old man." He pulled a cue off the wall.
“Ha! I been playin’ pool since yer daddy was a zygot!” He got the triangle and sets the balls up on the table.
"M' poppa was born in eighteen seventy-eight, homme," he challenged.
“And the statement still holds. Break ‘em.”
Remy stopped. "How friggin' old are y'?" he asked amazed.
“Really friggin’ old.” He could at least remember the 1800's... at least tiny snippets of them. It was enough to know he was around and mature at the time. Remy shook his head and thought how much he liked the old man. “Now bend over and knock those balls.” Logan had on a snarky grin. Remy grinned back and slid his cue expertly through his fingers.
Shamelessly, Logan examined Remy’s butt as he bent over, pointedly standing right behind him. Remy nearly ground up against the table; having Logan stare at his ass made him tingle all over. He cracked the cue ball and sent it flying down the tale and smacked it pretty good. One ball got sunk.
Logan really wanted to just lean over him when he was bent over like that and just grind hips against him. “Lucky shot.”
"Hah! Remy all skill when it come to pool." He moved over to sink another ball.
He paused when moving to line up his next shot. If he cleared away all the balls, then that wouldn't be very interesting of a game, would it? He was going to miss the next one then.
Logan certainly didn’t mind Remy bending over in different positions all over the table. He wasn’t making any motions to dissuade him. He was staring at him like a hungry wolf. He wasn’t really paying any attention to where the pool balls went.
Remy lined up the shot, and made to look at it carefully. He was swinging with the cue, then he looked up at Logan and returned his stare of lust. He squinted at the thought of Logan coming over and fucking him over the pool table and slammed the cue into the cue ball as if Logan were fucking him and the shot went flying into its designated pocket. Damn, he thought. I meant to miss dat one. He had maintained eye contact with Logan through the shot, and tore his gaze away to see what happened.
Giving him a soft growl, Logan knew what Remy was thinking and wanted it, too. He considered conceding him the game, dragging him out by his ear and driving off to some secluded cove to fucking him senseless in the jeep.
As if Remy could sense the increase in Logan's desire, he leaned up from the table. He walked over to him and stood bare inches away from him. "I... I meant t' miss dat one," he said softly, almost nervous, but really turned on.
“You didn't.” He wrung his hands around the pool cue a little, looking over at the table. “Take yer shot. I'm gonna pay up.” He moved over to the table, untucking his shirt to hide the erection in his pants. He flipped out a few bills, covering the tip in a big way.
When Logan moved away, Remy cleared the rest of the table in about three minutes. Coming back to sees the table empty, Logan grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and practically drug him out, saying a brief, “Thanks,” to the waitress on the way out. Remy smiled at being grabbed by the scruff of the neck. He pointedly didn't look at the waitress on the way out.
Hauling Remy into the car, Logan peeled out like a maniac and started the way back home, looking for any kind of alcove to duck away in. Remy was staring at Logan and asked, "You in kind of a rush to get home?" with a grin on his face.
Logan didn’t even bother answering and skid off into a dip into the woods, where it was dark and secluded. He didn’t take a moment to slice a blade through Remy’s seatbelt, hauling him over the middle console into Logan’s lap and starting to kiss him ravenously.
Remy moaned into Logan's mouth. "Logan," he whispered against his lips.
"Logan... how—we need lube, cher," he said, but he was feeling up Logan’s untucked shirt, playing with his nipples, getting caught in the moment while trying to stay practical.
“I don't...” He had Remy’s shirt half way off, pawing at him, one hand dipping into his pants. “I don't got any,” he said biting those pretty marks he made earlier today.
Remy squirmed in Logan's arms at being rebitten. "Ahhhhh," was his breathy moan. "I wan' y' so much, cher..."
Logan started pretty badly when Remy accidentally honked the horn, but smiled against his neck. “So I hear...” He lifted Remy up and managed to topple him into the back seat, crawling on top of him. “You got anything?” He was grateful there was no need for condoms.
Remy looked shyly away. "I wasn' 'xactly expectin' t' romp in de jeep," then he smiled at Logan. "Not dat I'm complainin'." He paused thinking of what they could use. "How many times can you cum, cher?" he purred.
“A lot.” Healin’ factor and all. He tried to tear Remy’s clothing off without damaging it too badly, kissing his lips till they were beautifully swollen. He tried to get comfortable in the cramped space. With a wicked smile, Remy undid Logan's pants and reached into them to brush against his manhood—and such hot, hard, smooth manhood it was!
Kissing him, Logan snarled and bit down on Remy’s bottom lip, almost hard enough to break the skin. “Gh... What're you d...” Oh. He got it. He thrusts up into Remy’s hand, struggling to take Remy’s pants off. Remy tried to help Logan in getting him undressed, but wasn't very successful in the awkward space.
Ending up in some very awkward positions, Logan eventually got Remy naked. “Too damn lanky,” he said as he licked his neck and nibbled his jaw. He thrust against whatever warm flesh there as to find. Remy concentrated on Logan and licked his hand to make it feel better for both of them. Squeezing, he hoped that Logan would let him suck on him some.
"Logan... can I—please—?" he said, thrusting his erection into Logan's hip, "Please, let me suck you," he plead.
Purring against Remy’s lips, he said, “Yeah...” running his hands all over him. His chest heaved with heavy breaths. “Remy….” He mourned the loss of Remy’s lips and his nipples once they were out of reach.
Remy slid down to get better access to Logan and licked at him teasingly, then enveloped him completely, deep-throating him. Remy loved feeling hands in his hair as he sucked on his partner and hoped that Logan would play with his hair. Groaning in that somewhat helpless manner, Logan sat up and almost curled around him, his fingers in Remy’s hair, stroking and pulling, but never too harshly. “Shit, Remy...” he snarled and shuddered
Remy moaned at the fingers in his hair and hoped that Logan enjoyed the vibrating. He sure as bloody hell did enjoy the vibrating, and thrust up into his mouth as much as he could, growling Remy’s name over and over again. One hand carded through his locks and the other pressed onto the top of the jeep as if gravity no longer applied.
Remy's hands found their way to Logan's ass and squeezed his cheeks. He really wanted to slip a finger into him because it felt so good, but was unsure about it. A finger didn't usually hurt....
Snarling in a pleasurable way, Logan hoped Remy picked up on the subtle warning. Stroking down him, swooping his hands around Remy’s body Logan tried to come so he could burrow inside of him. “Remy... Close...”
Remy misinterpreted Logan's growl, and slid his finger down Logan's crack, but did not penetrate. He sucked hard as he did so, hoping to send Logan over the edge. And oh, god it did. Logan only had a flash of clarity to give Remy warning. “Remy!” He tugged on his hair a little, thrusting up and geysering into his mouth, snarling and his claws popped through roof and into the back seat.
Remy felt the liquid fill his mouth and only convulsively swallowed a little of it, knowing that he needed to save the rest for a different purpose. He made sure to swirl his tongue around Logan as he was coming, so he would feel really good during the orgasm and also to milk him dry.
Logan snarled as the orgasm died away, shifting away from that too close finger, trembling a little. He loved his mouth. “Remy....” He could tell Remy had sucked a lot of cock. Remy smiled, with just a little cum dripping out of the corner of his mouth. He wanted to swallow and kiss Logan, but refrained and instead let the slick stuff drip into his hand that he stuck behind himself, letting the dripping messy hand slide into his body. He tried to loosen up and let the cum inside him. It felt really good, fingering himself and he wanted Logan to do it with him too. He grabbed Logan's hand and placed it back at his entrance, wanting to feel his fingers inside him. "Logan..." he whispered.
“God, darlin’...” He thought Remy was so beautiful it was a very, very painful thing. He pressed two fingers deep inside him. “Wanna be in you so bad....” Remy gasped at Logan’s fingers and wriggled onto them, bucking at the intensity of his slick fingers.
Snarling and cooing, he said, “Like that, don’cha Cajun?” Kissing him deeply, Logan made sure he was wet all over. Remy nodded emphatically against Logan's lips. He stuck his tongue into Logan's mouth, letting him taste himself. Checking to see if Logan was hard again, he averted his eyes from the feral mutant's.
Smirking, he said, “Don't worry.... it's always ready to play... Just takin’ a breather.” He clamped his mouth on to Remy’s and sucked on his tongue while thrusting his fingers deeply. “How y' wannit, Cajun? Y' won at pool, it's yer call.”
Remy nearly squealed at having his tongue sucked and being penetrated. It was so damn hot!! "Fuck me, Logan? Please?" he asked, as if he were desperate.
Growling, he said, “Was plannin’ on it, kid.” Panting and huffing, he pulled his fingers from him and sat up, inadvertently knocking Remy’s head against the roof. “Sorry.” He hadn't done this in ages. He pulled Remy’s head down to his shoulder.
Remy chuckled and hugged Logan close. He climbed across from Logan and stuck his ass out toward him. He was dripping with cum and looked ready for fucking. Reaching for Logan, he kissed him, turned around, but Remy had always been flexible.
He sucked Logan's tongue into his mouth and nipped at it before sucking hard.
Kissing what he could of him, Logan went absolutely wild at seeing his lovely pink hole and mercilessly drove into him in one smooth, powerful thrust, snarling and holding him securely as if he might wriggle away.
Remy would have shouted if he weren't attached to Logan's mouth. He squinted as if in pain, but it was actually intense pleasure. Getting a firm hold of his hips to shift him as Logan pleased, he started thrusting repeatedly in Remy, letting go of his lips to nibble at his ear and snarl unintelligible nonsense, repeatedly penetrating his hot body.
Remy remembered that they were far away from the mansion and that no one would be able to hear them no matter how hard he screamed, and so let lose after that thought. He hoped that it wasn't hurting Logan's ears, but he couldn't help but be loud. It felt so good that he had to scream—he was exploding from within!
Logan liked the noise a lot, thrusting harder to see how loud he could get Remy to scream. He was fucking into him hard and fast, toying with his nipples and occasionally tugging his cock. He was speaking in an animal language of snarls and growls and roars.
It was with a playing of a nipple and stroking of his cock and a particularly hard thrust in succession that sent Remy over the edge. He thought afterward that his throat would be raw from the scream, but even as he cried at the top of his lungs, he didn’t' notice the pain among the pleasure.
Absolutely devouring him, Logan made him crane back to swallow his screams, his hard, thick cock still driving into him in deep, strong thrusts. He had already had an orgasm, and had a bit more stamina than Remy.
After the orgasm faded, Remy's body became lose and unstable. He was swaying back and forth with Logan's thrusts, barely able to keep himself on his knees. He braced himself against the sides of the jeep and shuddered at Logan’s thrusting. It still felt good, but it felt a little uncomfortable when his muscles squeezed. He made sure not to squeeze them at all as he fought to keep himself upright.
Pulling Remy back against himself, Logan was still for a moment before tipping him to the side and gently pulling his raging hard cock out of him. He let him flop back against the seat and the door. Crawling on him, Logan snuffled all over him, kissing and stroking him all over.
"Mmmm.... Logan... dat was so good," he purred. He wondered why Logan didn't finish inside him though. He reached out with a hand and played with Logan's nipples, running his hands all over his furry chest. Logan growled at Remy in agreement, not quite normal what with the erection and all. Nuzzling into his chest, Logan kissed down him and opened his legs. He kissed passed his cock and lifted his hips to have access to Remy’s poor abused hole. He gave it a gentle lick. The whole clenched and unclenched at the attention and Remy let out a sigh.
Kissing him there a little more, he stroked his cock and let his tongue play gently inside him. Remy was getting dizzy and grabbed the front seat to stabilize himself. Logan started jerking off harder because Remy tasted so damn good. He purred against his hole, sending vibrations inside him, and he wrapped a hand around his waist to have him deeper, his hand working furiously over his wet cock.
Remy cried out repeatedly—he was so sensitive there for some reason. Having Logan's tongue in him was such a contrast to the way is rod felt inside him. Logan felt his orgasm right there, and leaned over to bite the inside of Remy’s thigh as he roared against him, white streams of cum jetting across his leg.
Remy grunted in shock at the bite, but didn't mind it. He lifted his head to watch Logan climax and smiled at the sight. He looked so good orgasming against his body like that. Remy leaned up once Logan had finished and bent down to kiss him deeply. "Y' enjoy dat?" he asked.
Finally shuddering as his orgasm passed, Logan kissed him back, huffing against his lips. He could only grunt at him and snuffle down his neck to cuddle. “Ghghn...”
Remy smiled, satedly. After a moment, he said, "We gon' need t' clean y' jeep eventually."
“Yeah....” He didn’t feel like it at the moment. He settled atop him so he was not taking all Logan’s weight but had as much skin contact as possible. “Yer friggin’... yummy....”
Remy purred at Logan and stroked up and down his back. "You some hot stuff, y'self."
Letting out a long, growly, sated sigh against Remy’s neck, he said, “You okay? Didn't hurt ya too bad, did I?”
"Hurt? Remy's not hurt," he said.
“Good.” He kissed Remy’s neck and stroked his hip. “Y' like havin' sex with me, Cajun?” He wouldn't be so insecure, but he knew he’d been around and… well... was likely to cheat if not satisfied.
"Y'kiddin', right? You have t' ask?" he said in disbelief. "Oui, Logan. I like makin' love t' y'."
“Just checkin’....” He lay sprawled out against him for a few moments, muttering with his lips against Remy’s neck. “Think I like fuckin' you, too...”
Remy's lips curled and he was about to laugh. They were in such a silly situation, sprawled in the back of his jeep, like two teenagers. He liked it though. Not only did it make him feel younger than he was, but it reinforced the fact that they had a relationship. No matter how 'official' or 'unofficial,' they had a sexual relationship... and Remy liked it a lot.
Kissing his collarbone, he said, “Guess we'd better get cleaned up before they send reinforcements.” The horny teenager analogy didn't escape Logan either: he really felt like a teenager at times with him.
"I don' know 'bout you, but it's gon’ take a shower to clean me up," he smiled sneakily.
Managing to grab his shirt and wipe up what come landed on the jeep and what got on Remy’s leg, Logan said, “We'll have ta make do until then.” He couldn’t help it, though, and leaned over to nibble on Remy’s nipple.
Remy moaned quietly at that. "I really like y' teeth," he said, grinning.
“Only bones with no adamantium... Y' better like um...” He grinned at him, pulling on his jeans. “Y' ready ta head home?”
Remy nodded and crawled, still naked, into the front passenger's seat.
Grinning, he asked, “Y' gonna just stride home nekkid?”
Remy frowned. "We ain' drivin'? I tought I could dress while y' drove." He grabbed for his jeans as he said it.
Rolling his eyes, Logan said, “Not what I meant, Mr. Literal.” He started the car. He wasn’t going to put his spunky shirt on, though. Remy sniggered and dressed as Logan pulled out. That had been a lot of fun. Whipping back out onto the road, he put the car in first and started off home. “Whatchu sniggerin’ about, kid?”
"Dat was so much fun. I haven't done somethin' like dat in a longtime. Car's cramped, but dat's half de fun, oui?"
Chuckling, he said, “Like a pair a horny teenagers…” He just had to say it. He knew Remy was thinking it too.
"Oh, yeah. Dough I never had a car t' go have fun in.... We still got out to have our fun." He smiled, remembering Belladonna.
Grinning, Logan said. “We didn't have cars when I was a teenager... probably used... I dunno, barns er somethin’....” He was going to have to shag him in a barn to see if it brought back any memories.
Remy had a on a funny face. "Well, dat's where de main form o' transportation was," he commented.
Chuckling, he said, “Thanks for the history tip, Gumbo.” He looked over at him. “All dressed? We're almost there....”
"Yeah," he said, finishing putting his shoes on. "Ready t' smile an' pretend like nothin' happened—f' de sake of de kiddies," he smiled charmingly.
Raising an eyebrow at him, he wondered what the hell he meant by that. “Kiddies should be in bed by now....”
"Dere's always one o' dem brats out when dey not supposed to be," he grumbled.
Pulling the car into the garage, he got out and opened Remy’s door for him, then locked the jeep.
"Y' don' have t' do dat, y'know," Remy nearly stormed out of the garage after the door was opened. He had been thinking! Not waiting for Logan to come get his door! He didn't want to be treated like a girl—and there Logan was doing exactly that!
Blinking, thought, what did I do wrong now? He shut the door after him and followed him inside. “Remy.”
"Yeah?" he asked, stopping once in the house—waiting for Logan to catch up.
Cautiously he wondered if he wanted to open this Pandora's Box. He approached him, asking affectedly, “What's wrong?”
Remy sighed. "Can we go talk someplace privately?" he asked. He didn't want to be somewhere where they could be overheard.
“Suuuuuuure,” he said slowly as he hung up his coat. “Your room sound good?”
Remy nodded, curtly and headed upstairs.
Following him, Logan sighed. He had seen women in this state before and knew he was going to get a tongue lashing. He followed like a puppy doomed for a beating. He couldn’t help grinning a little, though, when Remy sort of limped. Remy took it easy up the stairs, trying not to show that he was uncomfortable in his own skin, but unable to hide the slightly unusual gait. He stepped into his room and leaned up against the wall, waiting for Logan to enter. When he did, he closed the door behind him and locked it.
Raising an eyebrow at him, Logan steeled himself for the assault.
Remy deflated when the door was closed. "I'm sorry, homme."
Logan watched him quietly, not pressuring him to say anything. He let him work it out in his head.
"I really—really don' like bein' treated like a femme," he said flatly, looking into Logan's eyes.
Blinking at him, Logan had no idea how he treated him like a woman, but nodded anyway, suspecting there was more to come. Remy waited for Logan's response, looking at him expectantly. Shifting, Logan said, “O... k.....”
"Please, don' do it again."
Nods slowly, Logan hated this, but just had to ask. “What did I do?” He squeezed up inside, feeling debased.
Remy's eyes widened in surprise. "Y' really don' know?"
Giving up, Logan said, “No. I'm a bad boyfriend, Remy, what did I do?” he was a little miffed with the guessing game.
Remy blinked, perplexed. "Y' opened de door for me—four times, an' y' paid f' dinner." Did you not see dat?
Equally perplexed, Logan didn’t know where this as going, but he was getting agitated. “So?”
"Logan, have you ever gone out on a date wit' a woman before?" Remy asked exasperated.
“Course I have!” What’s the matter with you?
"What do you do t' be chivalrous to a woman when y' out on a date?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Folding his arms across his chest, Logan said, “Just tell me what ya want me ta say, Cajun and I'll say it cause I got no idea what you want from me right now.” He felt like Remy expected him to play a game with him but he don't know the rules.
"Okay, I asked you to not open doors for me-- I can get dem m'self, an' t' split dinner wit' me, or take turns payin' or somethin', we can work dat one out. But please-- stop wit de doors, car or oderwise." It makes me feel... weird.
Crossing his arms a little defensively, Logan pointed out, “I do those things cause I like ya... Cause yer my date. Not cause I think a you as a girl.”
"It..." It don' really matter what y' tink, Logan... "It makes me feel like a girl," he mumbled, looking at the carpet. That one was hard to push out, but he managed it.
Logan let his arms unfold and carefully approached Remy. “Well... yer not.” He wondered what made him so insecure about it. “Yer very much notta girl.” Carefully, Logan touched his arms.
Remy blinked rapidly, trying to come up with a way of explaining this awkwardness to Logan. "I know..." Dat don' magically change how I feel when y' do dat dough... he complained to himself.
“I won't... I won't open yer door anymore, then....” If I can stop myself in time, he amended to himself. “But I've been known to engage in fisticuffs when it comes fer payin’ for the check: guy or girl.”
Remy smirked at Logan. "Deal. I'll race y' nex' time."
Grinning at him a little, he stroked his arms. “That really pissed ya off, didn't it?”
Remy tried to ignore that Logan could read him that well, but he nodded slightly to the question. "Can't help it," he complained quietly.
Leaning in, softly he kissed his neck. “Get ready fer bed.” He was going to pry this out of him later, though.
Remy went to get ready for bed and was going to curl up under the covers.
Kicking off his clothes, Logan curled up behind him, still wearing boxers. He was not ready to sleep naked with him yet. He didn’t even know if he was allowed to cuddle him, or if that was too girlie.
Remy pressed into Logan, grasping his arms and practically purring. He bucked back slightly as he was getting comfortable. Logan grinned, seeing that Remy was a cuddler. He was a shameless cuddler as well and was convinced that Jean almost left Scott for him once because of the Wolverine's superior snuggling technique. “Night, kid.”
"G'night, Logan." He sighed happily and tried to nod off.
********