A Grief Thing
The loss of Jean hit everyone hard. Weeks later there were still solemn looks and bitten lips as the students passed her classroom. The older students stepped up to help everyone settle after the attack. They all have drawn together, watching out for each other.
The adults have all grieved in their own way. ‘Ro cried until the rains flooded the grounds the first night; but the next day, she was a pillar of strength. Kurt perched on the back of an armchair in the corner of the den and muttered a never-ending litany of prayers. Most times you could find a few children settled nearby, eyes closed and lips moving in sync with his own.
The Professor spoke at the impromptu night vigil/gathering and opened his doors to any who wished to talk. He seemed so serene, like he could still feel her spirit and was somehow comforted by it. It was odd to see the Professor sit at the window, half smiling, like he could hear something no one else could. But he always had a hug, or soft words, for the children.
Scott and Logan -- well...
Scott worked on, teaching his classes, and making reparations to the school when time allowed. He stood tall and did what needed to be done and looked like he was falling apart on the inside. Logan was gruff like an aged hound. He sparred with the students when they need to let out their more ‘destructive’ emotions; would sit in the middle of the couch and let Marie - and not a few other girls and assorted kids - pile in close. He still swore and drank and smoked, but he also made rounds across the school grounds at night; even sitting inside, his senses strained outward - always alert.
The first night he fought Scott in the training room was an accident of fate. Scott had been down there half drunk and beating on the heavy-bag, not even noticing when his knuckles started to bleed. Unsettled, Logan had just done another round of the school making sure everything was locked down and secure. He heard the noise from the training room and went to see what was up.
They fell on each other, fists swinging and curses flying. Scott venting all that he held back during the past weeks, and Logan let go like he couldn’t with the students, hardly holding back. When they had exhausted themselves, they sat against the wall - Scott panting, both slick with sweat. Neither spoke, they just sat there. Until, finally, Scott shook and started to cry, like he hadn’t let himself since that day; and once more he turned to Logan. And like that day, Logan held him tight and cried a little too.
The next day went on much like the day before except that Scott looked a little less on the brink and Logan less twitchy. If anyone noticed the way Logan seemed to track Scott whenever they were in the same room, no one mentioned it.
Days passed until Scott found himself once more in the training room, long after most of the school was sleeping. Sober this time and Logan appeared mere minutes later. Scott jabbed at the heavy-bag once - twice before turning to face Logan, who was lounging against the closed door. By unspoken agreement they moved to the open matted area and started circling each other.
This was far from the fight last time- whereas that had been pain and rage, not any better than all out brawling, this- this was sparring. While neither held back, they weren’t just having at it either. Back and forth they fought, throwing punches and kicks, elbows and knees. By the time they were dripping with sweat, the sparring had deteriorated into wrestling. They rolled across the mats gaining and losing the upper hand.
Eventually Logan won by sheer body mass and recovery. He lay over Scott pinning him to the floor by simply turning into a dead weight. They moved around a little bit, Logan shifting to the side so Scott could breath. Scott didn’t try to stand up, just lay there, catching his breath, and staring at the ceiling. He turned his head until his lips just brushed Logan’s ear.
“I miss her.” Three words, spoken so low that Logan felt more than heard them, and nothing more. The older man gathered him close turning on his back and tucking Scott’s head under his chin. Neither moved until morning.
They woke up to the sound of a herd of baby elephants running down the hall above them.
Scott rolled off Logan and straightened his clothes, a bit awkward after his admission and break down. Logan just stood up and cupped his hand around the back of Scott’s neck and drew the younger man closer. He focused on Slim’s shades, cursing the need for the thick quartz that hid his boy’s eyes - he could school his features to hide his emotions, but Logan was sure that his eyes would reflect every feeling. “Better get to breakfast before all thats left are crumbs.” That drew a tiny smile from him and they turned to leave. Logan kept his grip on Scott, only removing his hand as the elevator door opened upon the main hall.
Over eggs and toast, The Professor talked to the teachers and assorted adults about the west dorm wing repairs and the crowding in the remaining dorms with the last of the students returning the next day. It was decided that they would shift some of the students to the teachers’ suites and the teachers themselves would double up until the west dorm was livable again.
Xavier left the teachers to sort themselves out while he had some of the older students gather their things for the move. Logan came up behind Scott as they left the dining room and informed ’Ro that Scott would be moving into his rooms. She ‘hmm’-ed her assent and continued down the hall, breaking up an argument between three boys.
Scott sent Logan an unreadable look as they headed upstairs. “Need help packing Slim?” Logan asked, when they reached Scott’s door. The other man shook his head and disappeared inside. Moments later he reappeared with a duffle and a heavy box. Thrusting them at Logan he turned around and came back with an over stuffed backpack and another large box. “That it?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Scott shrugged.
“Didn’t take ya long.” Logan commented as they headed up another floor and down the hall to his room.
“I was packed already. I figured we’d have to bunk up and ... ” he trailed off, unable to make himself say aloud the other reason. Logan could hear the slight hitch in Scott’s voice. At a loss for words, he was relieved to see his door.
The older man set the box and duffle against the wall and surveyed the already rearranged room. Charles didn’t waste time and had anticipated Logan’s roommate, evident in the stack of papers to be graded that sat in the middle of the newly arrived desk.
Scott wandered into the bedroom with his bag of clothes. Coming up behind him Logan took in the second bed, dresser and new larger shared nightstand making the room a bit cramped. “So,” Scott drawled, “You want the bed on the right, or the left?”
Life seemed to settle after that. Logan took to watching out for Scott - popping up in his office with sandwiches when he worked through lunch, taking him out for rides on the bike when he started to get restless, dragging him down to the training room to work out his frustrations.
It had been six months since Alkali Lake, the west dorms were finished and the students moved back, but Scott had stayed with Logan. His room--long since become theirs.
Scott pulled out of his funk and started acting more like his old self, aside from the occasional nightmare - but those had started to slack off after a few nights sharing a room with Logan. While he still mourned for Jean, he didn’t hate himself for living either. The students, resilient as ever, got through their clinging stage and back into the rhythm of school at Mutant High.
It was one of those nightmares that changed the way Scott looked at Logan. Up until then he saw Logan as a fellow teacher, as a friend. Someone - the only one at times - that could understand what he was feeling. But after that night, he became more.
They’d developed a routine of sorts for nightmares. When Logan had one, Scott would toss a heavy throw pillow off an old couch at him and call his name. The smack and sound was enough to wake him and kept Scott out of lunging distance, only then would he come closer. For Scott, Logan would get up and hold him still, arms wrapped tight around him until the younger man fought free of the dream. For both, there were quiet talks and soothing touches before they retired back to their own beds.
It had been weeks since Scott’s last nightmare and this one hit him hard. He shook and fought tears, thankful for the strong arms holding him safe from the demons within. When he had calmed down, Logan pulled away to go back to his bed. Scott captured Wolverine’s wrist, stilling him. He tugged at the arm, pleading with his eyes for the other man to stay. Logan stared at him for a long minute searching for something. Nodding once, he slipped under the covers. Turning Slim on to his side, the feral man spooned up behind him, arm thrown over Scott’s waist.
Scott woke to the pale morning sun lighting the room. He turned within Logan’s arms rolling to face the other man. Warm and still fuzzy from sleep, he snuggled in to the broad body. He watched Logan sleep, pleased that he’d stayed. He smiled softly as Logan slowly blinked awake, eyes clouded with sleep.
Logan stretched, purring at the feel of lean body against his own. Cuddling Scott closer, he breathed in his scent, like sun and crushed willow leaves. Gently, he leaned down and kissed the younger man’s lips, lazy and chaste. He pulled back reluctantly, savoring the taste, but his heart nearly stopped at the shocked look on Scott’s face.
Fully awake now Logan tried to pull away, panicked at his actions. But Scott held tight, keeping him in bed. Curving a hand on Logan’s cheek, he drew the older man closer, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. He thrust his tongue inside Logan’s mouth, coaxing the other man to respond. Reassured by Scott’s actions, Logan groaned opening his mouth wider. He sucked at Scott’s tongue, his own twisting around it before taking a turn at exploring the other’s mouth.
Pulling back for air their hands scrabbling to find skin they tore at each other’s clothes. Shirts went flying and sleep pants were pushed down and kicked off. They slid skin-on-skin, caressing over shoulders and up thighs wherever grasping hands found purchase. Their movements were hurried, trying to feel everything at once, overwhelmed by the freedom to touch.
Logan licked up the side of Scott’s neck, trailing nipping kisses down to suck at his Adam's apple. Scott rolled Logan on to his back and straddled his thighs. Grinning down at the panting man, he swooped in for another searing kiss. Breathless, they parted, Logan’s hands roaming over the plains of Scott’s back and ass. The morning light sparked off ruby quartz lenses giving Scott’s leer a devilish cast.
Rocking against the hard body beneath him, Scott bent to cover Logan’s chest with open wet kisses. The older man moaned deep in his chest. Spurred on, Scott wrapped his hand around both their cocks smearing the mingled pre-come down both lengths. Moving faster, Scott pumped them toward completion and Logan tangled a hand in his hair, pulling the lean man down, slamming their mouths together.
Whimpering into the kiss, Scott bucked against his lover and came. Logan growled and pulled Scott tighter to him, grinding in to the still trembling man as his own climax overtook him. Wrapping his arms around Scott, he turned them on to their sides. They drifted, sated, into a light doze until the sound of a squealing chase thundered down the hall beneath them.
With wry smiles and lingering caresses, they got up for the day.
-END-
X-Men MovieVerse Ficathon 2005
Written for: Niu
Pairing/scenario requested: Cyclops/Wolverine - After X2, a grief thing.
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