A PAST'S VIEW

AUTHOR: SisterWine

RATING: NC-17 (STRONG SEX, HEAVY VIOLENCE, BAD LANGUAGE).

PAIRING: LOGAN/REMY SLASH

SUMMARY: Louisiana, late 1920s. Remy finds out that there is more to Logan than meets the eye. A full view of what happened between the realities of "Only In My Dreams" and "I Need You Near Me".

WARNING: SLIGHT RAPE AND ABUSE.

DISCLAIMER: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THEY ARE THE PROPERTY OF MARVEL COMICS AND 20th CENTURY FOX. THE ONLY CHARACTERS THAT ARE MINE, ARE THE TOWN'S PEOPLE IN THE STORY. NO MONEY EXCHANGED, JUST FOR FUN.


A Past's View
by SisterWine



1928

Panting. Moaning. Smiling. Remy was on all fours, in the middle of the plush sofa. In front of him, sat a middle-aged man who moaned and watched Remy's luscious mouth swallow his erection. And behind him, a younger man was kneeling and thrusting himself in and out of Remy's tight entrance. Remy had been the only one who was completely naked. The other two were still somewhat dressed, to a degree.

The older man was mainly naked, save his tan cotton shirt and navy pants, and made a habit of gripping the back of Remy's head and pushing the mouth down onto him. So far, he had managed to release hot liquid down Remy's throat at least twice. His left arm was resting itself on the tall arm of the sofa, and his right hand played with the soft, auburn locks of the beautiful young man who was loving the man's firm length.

The younger man, behind Remy, was thrusting himself easily in and out of Remy. The man's pants were pooling around his bent knees, and his white shirt was spread open. His hands gripped Remy's slender hips and his head was thrown back, his eyes were closed, as he drove himself deep into Remy and cried out as he came. He leaned forward and reached around, with his right hand, to the front of Remy and began stroking the beauty's length. He jumped, slightly, as Remy's left hand came to rest over his right and helped him stroke.

A growl came from the doorway, low and unruly. Logan had come home to find his boy was playing around, and he wasn't liking it. Logan growled again, louder.

Remy's head shot up and pulled away from the two men, who had also noticed. He had been in a position that faced the doorway, and he was wishing he wasn't. He curled onto the middle cusion.His right leg came up to shield his chest, while his thin arms were tightly wrapped around it. He shuttered as Logan sneered and stepped into the room.

The middle-aged man stood up and stepped infront of Remy. "Who de fuck a'e you, homme?"

Logan focused on the man. "I'm just a man who thinks yer fuckin with the wrong boy, bub." He growled and released his claws, while continuing to slowly step towards them. "And, just who are you?"

The man who had stood up, reached for his coat, that had been draped over the back of the sofa, and pulled out a small pistol. His shaggy grey hair curled about his round face. His slightly muscular build was cushioned by a thin layer of body fat and grey fuzz that trickled down his chest and stomach. He aimed the pistol at Logan and blurted his answer. "De boy is mine, Monsieur. 'e do wha'ever de fuck I say, non? Y' best jus si'down an' wait, mon ami. Remy be done, shor'ly." The man steadied the pistol at Logan's chest. He smiled to himself and started to turn back to Remy.

Remy jumped up and grabbed the cold barrell with his right hand. His left arm was now snaked around the man's shoulders. "Non, Michel. Y' don' wan' t' do dat, cher. Logan save Remy's life from Jaques. 'e de one I tell y' 'bout. Sil vouz plait, mon cher, put it down?" Remy pushed gently on the barrel with his palm. He smiled as the gun was lowered.

The young man, who had stayed quiet, pulled his pants up into place and retrieved his gun from the end table behind him. He came to stand on the other side of Remy, also pointing his gun at Logan. His left hand grabbed at LeBeau's arm, and tried to pull him back and out of the way. He glared at Logan, who had come to stop in front of Michel and raised his claws in a defensive manner.

Remy broke away from them and pressed his body against Logan's, wrapping his arms around the older man's neck. His forehead rest on Logan's shoulder. "Don' do dis, mon amour. Remy sorry, cher. Please, go upstairs, mon cher. I be up soon, oui?" He kissed Logan's right cheek and waited to hear Logan's claws go back in. "Merci, cher."

Logan stood there for a moment, and then backed away and sat down in a chair, across from the sofa. His low slouch and mean scowl gave Remy shivers. "I aint movin until I see these two leave." Logan glared at Michel, who in turn quirked a sly smile. Logan rest his elbows on the brown arms of the chair and clasped his fingers together, in front of him.

"Y' like t' watch, monsieur?" Michel smirked and grabbed Remy by his left arm. Spinning the boy around, he pushed Remy to his knees before him. His eyes darted from Remy to Logan. Cupping the boy's chin, he shoved his recovering erection back into Remy's mouth. He focused his attention on Logan, who was watching with nonchalant interest.

Remy started sucking and making soft throaty noises. He looked up to Michel, who was staring at Logan and playing with Remy's auburn locks. Remy kept his hands braced on Michel's outer thighs and tried to keep his mind on his work. His eyes darted to his left and watched as the guard still had his gun pointed at Logan, ready to pull the trigger at any movement. His empathy reached out and brushed against Logan. He knew Logan wasn't happy with the sight, yet he was...... turned on?

"Ah, Monsieur, he good, non? Remy is one o' my bes' boys." Michel grunted, rocked back onto his heels and closed his eyes. He smiled as Remy choked a bit, but managed to swallow the amount.

After a moment, he opened his eyes to see Logan raise an eyebrow at the scene. "Y' see, cher? De boy enjoy sex so much, he can' stay wit' jus' one. Remy owe me eve't'ing, mon brave. He give me some ass an' suck, I let 'im live." Michel smirked, triumphantly, before removing himself, and turning to look at Remy, who was still kneeling before him. "We d' business 'gain, chile." He bent over and forced himself against Remy's lips. When he stood again, he refocused on Logan as he dressed and motioned to his partner that they were done.

Remy hung his head and gathered his clothes that had been piled on the floor, in front of the sofa. He dressed himself and then stood to walk Michel and his partner to the door. When he turned back to see Logan still slouching in the arm chair, he sighed and headed for the staircase.

"Thought you were done with this shit." Logan grumbled, but didn't look at Remy. He'd said it just loud enough so that Remy could understand.

"I am, cher. Dat's why Michel was 'ere. Sil vous plait Logan, drop it. I go clean up for y', non?" Remy reached for the bannister with his left hand and pulled himself up onto the first step.

Logan stood up and took long strides to the doorway of the livingroom. "That aint what I saw, kid. When yer done, yer done. You don't fuck people for old time's sake. You move on, Remy!" He growled and glared at the obviously humiliated young man on the step.

Remy stopped and turned around. He moved to stand in front of Logan, at a safe distance, and explained. "M'sieur, dis is my house. I do business de way I wan' to, in my house. Like Michel tol' y', Remy owe him his life, cher. He taught Remy how t' survive, dat's all. Remy is done." He turned and went back up the stairs.

Catching Remy in the middle of the staricase, Logan shot back. "You just make sure you are, kid. Act like an adult, Rem. Don't dance on the edge of the flames." He saw that his point was made as Remy dipped his head and whimpered, slightly, but continued up the steps.

***************************

The afternoon had faded into early evening, and Remy was still in bed. His head hurt and his stomach churned with every movement he made. He kicked the covers off of his naked and glistening body. Sweat lightly shining on his stomach as he panted heavily and moaned in pain. He lay on his back and sprawled himself over the wide mattress.

It had been the day after Michel had visited him. He had been hoping the visit wouldn't last as long as it did, and that Logan would stay at the pub until after they were gone.

Logan came into the room and wiped Remy's body down with a cool cloth. He was hot to the touch and glistening with sweat no matter how many times he wiped the beautiful tan skin. "Feel better, any?" He whispered.

"Shhh, non." Remy let tears fall into his hair.

Logan ran the cloth over Remy's chest. "You always get a headache after him?"

Remy nodded. "Oui, cher. He take so much cocaine dat it t'rows Remy off balance." He sobbed and whispered. His tongue wet his dry lips as he rolled towards Logan's form that sat on the side of the bed.

"How long has this been goin on, kid?" Logan raised his voice slightly, causing Remy to sit up and place a trembling finger to his lips.

"Sshhh, mon cher. Please, we talk bout dis later, when Remy feels better, bien? Hur's too much, now, cher. I explain later, oui?" Remy's pained expression was more than enough to convince Logan to wait for later.

Logan nodded and took Remy's hand away as he kissed Remy ever so gently. Laying the boy back down, he reached to the end of the bed and pulled the sheet loose from the blanket, and covered the glistening body. "An empty stomach aint good for a headache. I'll bring ya somethin to eat in a bit."

Remy closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly, hoping the pain would just go away. He whimpered and cried into the empty room. Wrapping his pillow about his head, he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and took a ragged breath as the light in the hall spilled in through the open door.

"Hey," A soft whisper startled him. "Sit up. I got some fruit for ya." Logan did his best to keep the whisper.

He was being gently pulled to a sitting position and turned to lean against Logan's firm shoulder. The pillow was removed from his grasp and his hands were placed in his lap. His forehead rested into Logan's cool neck and heated it, rapidly. His eyes didn't open, even after something cool and sweet was nudging his lips apart. He chewed, slowly, and swallowed. Canteloupe? Mmm, it tasted so good and cool.

Logan slipped him another piece and moaned quietly as Remy accepted it and then sucked on the tip of his index finger that had accompanied the fruit into his mouth. He pulled away after a minute and reached for another piece of the fruit that was piled onto a plate, in his lap. His right arm held Remy against him, as his left fed the boy the fruit. "Good boy. A few more?" Logan asked and patted Remy's right arm to let Remy know he had acknowledged the nod.

When he was finished eating, he was laid back down as Logan kissed his cheek before leaving the room again.

************************

A short while later, Remy had become so nauscious that he leapt up, out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Dropping to his knees, he leaned over the bowl of the toilet and heaved. Letting the contents of his stomach exit his body, his breath was ragged and short, in between vomiting. When the fits were over, he flushed and crawled to the sink to rinse his mouth out, followed by thoroughly brushing his teeth.

"No more, Rem. I aint gonna stand for it. It's either me, or the streets. Pick one." Logan said as he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom.

Remy spit the water from his mouth, into the sink, and shut off the tap. He straightened from his hunched position and looked over to the doorway. "Logan, I try har' t' stay wit' you, cher. You de only one who stay wit' Remy dis long. Remy not try t' be a whore an'more."

"Try, huh?" Logan came closer to him and grabbed his arms. "Look at yerself, kid. Swallowin come from a high dealer and pimp aint livin the sweet life, Cajun. Not to mention, sellin that hot little ass to whoever he wants you to." Logan had started emphasizing his words by shaking Remy, firmly. "You aint usin, too, are ya?"

Remy glared. "Don' be stupid! Course not!"

"Stupid?" Logan backhanded Remy hard, sending the kid sprawling to the floor. "I aint the one who's a goddamned whore, Remy! Grow up, kid! You just might spare yerself a bodybag."

Staring up at Logan, in shock, Remy rubbed his right cheek. "Remy is grown up, cher. But he do wha'ever he can t' survive! Remy need sex t' live. Need t' feel loved. Be loved."

Logan opened his eyes wide at the words. "Loved? You think you can get love from bein a whore? I can treat ya like a whore, Remy. Is that what you want? Huh? You want me not to care if you have a headache, or not in the mood? Should I just bend ya over whenever I want, and fuck ya like the slut you are?? Maybe I should just lay ya down and fuck ya right here, is that it?" Logan knelt down and pushed Remy back to lay on the cold tiled floor, and started to undo his belt.

"Non! Please!" Remy grabbed Logan's hand and did his best to stop him from removing his belt. His eyes pleaded with Logan.

"Yer right. Whores prefer the bed, don't they?" Logan growled and tossed Remy over his shoulder and carried him back to the bedroom.

Walking into the room, Logan turned and roughly threw Remy onto the bed. He watched Remy land on his back and scoot backwards in a shallow attempt to get away from him. Logan merely grabbed at the kid's thin ankles and pulled him back, towards him, while he undid his belt and pants. Pushing them down, and pulling on his manhood, he spread the wiry legs apart and bent over him. He grabbed the back of Remy's head and pushed his mouth towards his erection. "Spit." He hissed.

Remy whimpered, but obeyed. As his fingers rubbed the saliva over the tip, he was shoved gruffly, back to the bed. His eyes stared up as Logan loomed over him with a twisted and determined grin.

Logan didn't wait for Remy to be ready, or get comfortable. He forced himself in and started thrusting in and out, violently. When he felt Remy's arms wrap around him, Logan forced their lips together and pried open Remy's mouth with his tongue, mint playing on his senses like aphrodisiac. After awhile, he slowed and deepened the kiss, growling into the kid's velvety mouth.

Remy gasped and cried out as he broke the kiss and held on even tighter as Logan became forceful again. He hadn't had time to reach his orgasm when Logan froze and held himself deep into Remy, filling the tight entrance with white hot lust.

When Logan finally pulled back, and looked down at Remy, he growled. "Now, I'll be hard again in about a minute or so, shall we do this again, or have I made my point?"

"Non, cher." Remy panted. "Point made, mon amour. I love only you, Logan." He whispered and looked up at the older man with a sorry expression.

Logan pulled out and stood up. He tucked himself back into his pants and glared down at the younger man. "I need a drink." He snorted, and stalked out of the room and down the stairs.

***********************

A few weeks later, Remy pulled the car into the huge circle drive and parked. He got out and shut the door, looking over the tall ragtop, to the big white building that stood before him. He sighed and tugged nervously at the cuffs of his gray jacket. Bringing himself to walk up the seven stone steps, he stopped and stared at the guard in front of the door.

"Remy LeBeau, here to see Michel de Corte." He announced.

The guard nodded and opened the door, motioning for Remy to follow him. He led Remy straight, down a long corridor to a door, and told him to wait. The guard opened the door and stepped in, promptly closing it after him. He came out again and patted Remy down before showing him into the room.

"Ah, Remy. Had a change of hear', petit?" Michel smiled and sipped at his brandy in a crystal shotglass. He had been sitting on a plush grass green sofa, to Remy's right, staring into the eyes of a young girl.

Remy had guessed the girl was younger than he was.

The girl had been lounging in her underclothes and giggling, drunkenly, to Michel's lusty whispers. She gave Remy a once-over before glaring slyly at him. Her soft red curls had hung down to her shoulders and her boots squeaked and clicked with every movement she made.

"I wan' t' talk, Michel." Remy said, clearing his throat and directing his attention to Michel alone.

"So, talk, chile." Michel laughed, softly.

Remy looked at the girl. "Alone."

Michel's smile faded and he shifted in his seat with a grunt. He turned to the girl and told her to leave, rather rudely.

The girl stood up and huffed, bumping into Remy as she left.

"Now dat we alone, chile, what y' wan'? You come f'r some more o' me? Where's y' lover, petit?" Michel smirked and set his glass down, on a small round table in front of him. He stood up and made his way to an overstuffed, white oak desk that sat in front of the huge windows, before Remy.

Remy swallowed and pushed himself forward. "Non. I'm 'ere t' tell y' I quit. Michel, Remy don' wan' t' do dis an'more."

Michel looked up from his chair, and scowled at the boy. "Did he tell y' to come 'ere an' tell me dis? Hey? You mine, Remy. I own you." Michel stood up and briskly made his way to stand in front of Remy, grabbing him by the arms. "Y' were nothin til me, chile. Y' live in dat nice house wit' HIM b'cause o' me." He forced Remy to look at him.

"I-I- I know, Michel. But, Remy wan' t' be wit' him. Sil vouz plait, cher? He love Remy, an' Remy love him. Wan' t' be wit' him. Tire' of bein a whore, mon cher." Remy raised his hands, defensively, in front of him.

The older man was boiling. He shoved Remy to the carpeted floor and screamed obscenities at him in French. Michel kicked and swatted at the cringing boy that curled himself into a ball. Forcing himself ontop of Remy, Michel began stripping both of their clothes away with one hand, while the other held Remy's wrists tightly above the boy's head. Ignoring pleas to stop, Michel assaulted Remy's now bare chest and neck with his mouth. "I tol' y', chile, y' belong t' me. No one else. Y' know y' can' live wit'out it. He don' know wha' y' need, Remy. Hol' still, boy, dis gonna feel good."

When it was over, Michel stood up and harshly kicked Remy in the side, calling for his guards who happened to be standing just outside of the door. "Take de boy f'r a ride. Make sure, he don' f'get who he is." The man tucked in his shirt and smoothed back his hair while sneering at the bruised and barely conscious Remy.

The two guards smirked and grinned, evily, at each other before each grabbing an arm and dragging Remy out of the room. They dragged him out to his own car and stuffed him into the backseat. Climbing into the front seat, one of them filled the other in on a plan to drive Remy to where he can have a slight "accident". The other agreed and glanced at Remy's sleeping form that was sprawled across the seat.




PART 2

The phone rang at half 9PM. Logan stormed into the livingroom, from the large dining table, where he had been buried in his drunken musings. He was past worried, past furious. He was marinading in lividity. Where the Hell was that damned Cajun?!

"Hello?" He growled.

The house and crickets around it seemed to go deathly still as a well-educated young doctor explained to Logan the circumstances to why he was ringing at that hour.

"He's where?" Logan was in shock. "What the Hell--" He sighed and felt he needed to sit down. "I'll be right there." He hung up the phone and then picked it up again, and rang the operator for a taxicab.

Logan met the taxi at the front gate, and told the driver to "step on it" to the hospital. His half-drunk/half-sobred mind was racing at how bad Remy's condition might have been and if he'd even live through the night. His mind repeated the name of the man responsible. Michel.

Stepping out and paying the driver, Logan sighed before turning around and making his way into the nearly empty lobby of the 2 storey hospital.

The nurse at the counter was standing up and shuffling papers. The counter was higher than the desk, so that Logan couldn't see what she was doing until he came to a stop and stared at her. "May I help you, sir?" The young nurse had to have been in her late 20s. A slender body with an equally thin face that outlined bright blue eyes. Her long blonde hair had been pulled back and wrapped into a bun at the nape of her neck. She smiled sweetly and blinked her eyes at him. Her perfume was a soft powdery scent.

"What room is Remy LeBeau in?" Logan sighed and asked.

A doctor near by overheard the question and came to stand beside the nurse. "I'm Doctor Price. Are you his father?" The young man asked, as he glanced up from a few files he had been holding and going over. He looked at Logan and raised an eyebrow at the older man's somewhat aggrivated expression.

"Somethin like that. Yer the doc that called me?" Logan asked and took a step back from the counter.

The doctor nodded at him. "Come with me. He's down the hall." Price waved his hand and led Logan past the nurse's station, and down a long hall to the left. "I have to say, for as slender as he is, I've never known anyone to live through what he was dealt. Compound fractures in both arms, scrapes, bruises, broken ribs. And this was before the car collided with a tree." The doctor stopped at the fifth door, to the left of them and turned toward Logan. Looking through the small square window on the door, Price stopped Logan from going in. "Mister Logan, when he was brought in, he was bleeding from the rectum and had multiple syringe marks on his arms. We had to restrain him to treat his wounds, however we also had to use a mild relaxant to calm him down. He seemed to want us to release him before we admitted him. I've seen quite a few things in my 9 years of practicing, but this is the worst form of--" Price stopped as Logan started to say something.

"Just Logan. When can I take him home?" Logan corrected and then focused his attention to the sleeping figure, inside the room.

"I would like to keep him here overnight, for observation. If he is feeling better, you may take him home in the morning." The doctor looked through the window and then back to his files as he excused himself from Logan.

***********************

Remy had opened his eyes and looked about himself. He was still in his wrist and ankle restraints, and his clothes had been removed and replaced with a white hospital gown that seemed too big. Remy's back was propped up at an angle, by pillows, for comfort and support. His hairband had been broken in the mishap that placed him at the hospital. He groaned as he shifted his legs and arms. Turning his head to the left, he noticed Logan standing at the door, talking to the doctor. Remy sighed and turned his head back to the right and stared at the drawn curtains over the square window. He shuttered as he heard the door open and footsteps.

Logan came to stand on the left side of the bed and move a stray lock of hair from Remy's cheek. "Hey, kid. I thought we agreed you weren't goin there unless I was with ya?" Logan surveyed the black and blue spots along with the scrapes that littered the boy's arms and legs. "What happened, Rem? Look, I don't expect you to just open up and pour yer heart out when I ask, but I do expect you to look at me when I'm talking to you." He raised his voice just loud enough and threateningly, to make Remy jump and immediately turn his head and stare at Logan.

"We go home now, M'sieur? Don' wan' t' stay here. Please, Logan, I go home wit' you?" Remy pleaded in an exhausted whisper.

"Nope. Doc says ya gotta stay here til mornin. Give ya plenty of time to think about how yer gonna explain what happened, to me." Logan waved a hand at the kid's barely covered body. He walked around the bed and fixed the wool blanket to cover Remy's arms and legs.

Remy watched him. "No, sil vous plait, Logan. We go home, I tell y' all 'bout it, oui. Don' leave me 'ere, cher. I beg y'. De cuffs, dey itch, an' Remy can' scratch dem. Lonely 'ere, mon cher. Y' stay, wit' me?" Remy pleaded and trembled again, as Logan came around to the other side of him and rubbed his thumb lightly against his bruise on the left corner of his mouth. He winced at the touch to the good-sized bruise.

"If you're a good boy, I might ask the nurse to remove the restraints, before I leave. But, you need to start talking to me, Rem. Why didn't ya blast 'em? I know your temper, too. Why'd ya let 'em do this to ya?" Logan noticed the small patch of scrapes just below Remy's hairline, on the right side of his forehead. He moved the hair from over the spot and examined it.

"Remy promise, cher." Remy was becoming near frantic. He wanted to go home, and it upset him tha he wasn't able to even move without being told no. He squirmed in his bonds as best as he could, but was unable to move more than a few inches in any direction.

"Then answer my question. Why didn't ya blast 'em?" Logan tapped Remy's hand as he noticed the squirming. He hated seeing the kid restrained, but he had no choice if he wanted to keep Remy from harming himself more.

Remy turned his head away. He closed his eyes and took a breath. "T'morrow, cher. I'll explain t'morrow." He groaned and shifted, uncomfortably, in his restraints. They itched and he wanted them off, so bad, but he couldn't reach the locks.

"No. Tell me now. Ya better start talkin to me, boy." Logan placed a hand on Remy's right shoulder and looked at him. His tone was firm, yet soft and low.

Remy sighed. "De last time Remy use his power 'gainst Michel, got a bea'in. Nev'r got de chance wit' de two guar's. Dey drove Remy t' dis place, by de river, and do awful t'ings t' him." Remy's voice got smaller and smaller as tears threatened to fall. "Den dey t'row 'im into de car, and sen' it down de hill. Hit de tree. Y' take dem off, now, cher? Remy be so good." He forced a small smile and then yawned.

Logan was silent for a long moment. "I'll tell the nurse. You need to get some rest, and I'll be back for ya in the mornin. OK?" He patted Remy's shoulder as the boy nodded, sleepily.

********************

The next morning, Logan was up, dressed, and on his way to the hospital. A bag of clothing sat next to him, on the backseat of the taxicab. It was 7AM when he had left the house, Logan couldn't wait any longer. He had been up for most of the night, pacing, and punching at the walls with anger at the thought of Remy's condition.

As the taxi pulled up to the building, Logan spotted the two police cars, and growled in annoyance as he knew what they were here for. He brushed past the small crowd in the lobby and signed himself in to visit Remy.

The nurse nodded and warned him about the officers who happened to be visiting Remy, already. He nodded to her and made his way down the hall.

When he came to the doorway, he stopped and listened to the two detectives as they questioned Remy. He smirked as they began to get irritated with him for not answering the questions. He knew exactly why Remy didn't want to talk to them, and for once, he didn't blame him. Leaning on the frame, with his arms folded over his chest, and the bag of clothes in his right hand, Logan smiled as Remy acknowledged him out of the corner of his eye.

"I'll ask again. What were the names of the two men that did this?" A detective in his mid-thirties asked Remy. He had been standing at the end of the bed, writing notes in his notebook and becoming slightly annoyed with the youth. His sandy blond, shoulder-length hair and slightly smaller height were the only two differences between he and Remy. His partner, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

"Maybe he doesn't know their names. He forgot to ask as they were beatin on him." Logan pushed off of the frame and came to stand next to Remy's left side of the bed. He sized the two trench-coated detectives up and down before answering the birage of questions they fired at him.

The detective that now stood beside Logan, was a taller and older man than the first. He was slightly rounder in shape and had shorter, well-groomed grey hair. He looked at Logan before asking his question. "You the boy's keeper?"

"Today. Now, if you'll excuse us, I gotta get him dressed and take him home. Taxi's waitin." Logan huffed.

The younger detective passed Logan a card with their precinct number and a name, on it. "If he suddenly feels like talkin, we'll be there. Have a nice day, gents." He smiled and waved his partner out of the room, closing the door behind them as they left.

Logan watched them leave, before turning back to Remy and helping him to sit up. "Here." He handed Remy the bag of clothes. Logan turned around and went to move a cloth divider in front of the door, for privacy. Helping Remy dress, he apologised for not being with Remy to protect him from what had happened. "Stay there. I'll get the doc to release you."

"Okay." Remy finished buttoning his white dress shirt and yawned. It hurt to move. He winced at every adjustment in position, and fought back the tears from sitting too long. It hurt, and he just wanted to go home. He knew that he'd eventually have to fess up to the events that had transpired the day before, but they were fuzzy even to him. He didn't remember being dragged to his own car. Or, tossed onto the backseat like a ragdoll, or being driven to the outskirts of the town, raped and beaten and then forced to have an accident. So, how was he going to explain it to Logan, when he couldn't recall the most vital parts?

When Logan came back, the doctor was with him. They talked about Remy, to Remy, and then signed the release papers. Logan was given a perscription to help ease Remy's pain, which his folded and stuffed into his shirt pocket.

A wheelchair was brought and they were escorted to the taxi by an orderly.

Logan picked Remy up carefully, and set him into the backseat. He turned around and thanked the orderly for the wheelchair, and then walked around to the other side of the taxi. He opened the door and climbed in. Telling the driver where to go, he shut the door and glanced at Remy.

Remy had rest his head against Logan's right shoulder and closed his eyes for a small nap. Between the doctors and nurses waking him every two hours, he hadn't been able to get decent rest. He was glad to be free of the restraints and the doctors. Though, he wasn't sure he was glad to go from one prison, into another; with Logan.



PART 3

The car came to a stop in front of the house, and Logan opened his door. He stepped out and shut it before paying the driver and walking to the other side to help Remy out.

He opened the door and looked down to see Remy sitting calmly in his seat and staring forward. Logan helped Remy out of the taxi, slowly, and shut the door. They walked carefully up the steps and nearly embraced in a full hug as Remy leaned on to the older man a little more. Logan steadied Remy as his arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer.

"W-wait, cher. I can'- hur's." Remy stopped on the second to the top step, and winced in pain. His right arm was being held around Logan's broad shoulders, while his left was seemingly holding his ribs together. They stood there for more than a minute, until Remy could move, and then continued.

Logan unlocked and opened the front door and helped Remy into the house, sitting him down on the stairs, before he turned back to shut and lock the door. "Let's get you cleaned up. With all that hospital junk on ya, I can still smell the both of them. Yer covered in 'em." He stood in front of Remy, who was staring down at the floor. Putting one arm under the thin legs, and his other around his back, he gently picked Remy up and headed up the stairs to the bathroom.

Remy whimpered and laid his head on Logan's right shoulder. Every bounce sent a surge of pain through his chest, and he fought back the tears as he was carried up to the bathroom. He closed his eyes and kissed Logan's neck. "Merci, Logan."

"For what, kid?" Logan turned the corner and placed Remy on the edge of the bathtub.

"F'r taking care o' me." He whispered as Logan started to run the bathwater and undress him.

Logan scoffed. "After this, yer goin to bed, and stayin there until you can move without me helpin ya. And believe me, we're gonna talk about this. I told ya before I wasn't going to put up with this, anymore." Wrapping an arm around Remy, he lifted him up and removed the rest of his clothing before helping him into the tub.

Remy hissed at the hot water. He managed to sit down without too much pressure or pain from his chest. He let Logan wash him and then dry him before he was clothed and carried to bed. Remy was even dressed in boxers and an undershirt. The covers were pulled up over him, up to his chest, as Logan propped him up against the headboard with both of their pillows.

Logan sat down on the bed beside Remy and looked calmly at him. "Talk. What happened? And don't even think about lyin to me." Logan's temper was casually rising, but he managed to keep it under control.

There was a silence between them. "Wen' t' tell Michel I quit. He say, he don' wan' t' let Remy go. He 'ssault Remy an' kick him. Don' remember much af'er dat. I wake up in de hospital. Dey take Remy's clothes, an' hol' him down. Dey talk t' me an' den call y'. Clean 'im up but, dey hur' im." Logan's silence was making Remy uneasy; he continued. "Dis is my problem, cher. Remy needs t' han'le it."

Sighing, Logan brushed a stray hair out of Remy's face and then took one of his hands in his own. "No, this aint just your problem. Seein you, like this, makes it my problem too. And I intend to finish this, with Michel. You're gonna stay here, while I deal with him, hear me?"

"Oui, cher, but Remy can take care o' dis." Remy's eyes glowed faintly.

"I said, No!" Logan's voice was sharp and piercing. He stood up and glared down at Remy. "The discussion is closed. You need some rest." He sat down again, and kissed Remy's forehead. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and collected. "Look, Rem, how long has he done this to you?"

"Four years." Remy looked down at his hands that were fidgeting with the sheet, in his lap.

"He's been beatin you for four years?"

"Oui. An' Jaques."

"How does Jaques play into this?" Logan lift Remy's chin up with the side of his index finger.

"Dey brudders, cher. Michel, he fine Remy when he a chile. Remy live wit' him til Remy get de house. Logan, don'--. Let Remy go wit' you, please? Remy know his tricks. Help y', non?" Remy leaned forward and groaned as his hands roamed over Logan's chest before playing with the shirt buttons.

Logan captured Remy's wrists and stopped him. "When you feel better. Right now, you need to rest. I'll uh, I'll bring you somethin to eat and drink in a while." He watched Remy nod and then helped the younger man to lie down. They kissed, briefly, before Logan pulled away and left the room.

********************

A week later, Logan made sure Remy was sleeping, soundly, and decided to find Michel for himself. Following the unmistakable scent into town, Logan observed the several well-dressed business men who were standing guard on the huge front porch of the Victorian house. He had been standing in the shadows of a tall maple tree, and watched the two men talk to each other. His dark clothing hid him well, in the moonlight. Any normal person wouldn't have been able to hear the conversation, but Logan wasn't normal.

The two were talking about a tastey young tramp, who they had "partied" with in the backseat of a car. And how the boy had "wanted it", as they claimed. Logan listened in to most of their braggings before getting upset and moving in to take them out. Piling the broken and bloody bodies off to the side of the house, under some low cut hedges, Logan eased himself through the front door. He sniffed, and grinned at the long hallway.

A single, tall and well-armed guard stood in front of the door. Logan sized him up and decided that a few inches of height didn't matter. The guard would hit the floor sooner or later. After a brief struggle, Logan managed the upper hand and held the guard by the throat. Breaking the guard's neck in half, he kicked the door open to find Michel sitting at his desk, reading the paper and sipping brandy. He growled and released his claws, stepping into the semi-lit room. The room reeked of sex and drugs and liquor.

Michel looked calmly up at the man in the doorway. "Ah, Logan, is it not? How de petit, monsieur? Shame t' hear dat Remy feel..... how you say, under de weather?" Quirking a smile at Logan's angered growl, he put his paper and glass down before standing up. Brushing off his gray slacks and white shirt, he licked his lips. He walked around to the front of the desk and leaned against it.

Logan sniffed about the room and stepped closer to Michel, his claws itching for more blood. "Stay away from him. He told you he quit. I'm here to enforce it." His low growl breathed through his clenched teeth.

Soft laughter rose from Michel. He leaned there, with his arms folded in front of him, and his left hand tapping at his smooth lips. "D' y' t'ink de boy really wan' t' quit, cher? Non, I don' t'ink so. He like it too much. I fine de boy when he was 12. I give him good home, an' food, he repay me wit' himself. D' y' t'ink Remy stay wit' jus' one, Logan? Non. He say, he love y', only t' get y' t' fuck him. De boy love no'ting but sex, mon ami. He keep y' warm, an' tell y' an'ting y' wan' t' hear, long as he get de dick." Michel paused for a moment. "He taste tres magnifique, eh, cher? An' his hair is s' beautiful. His lips, mmm, dey like velvet, no? De boy has 'charm' power, m'sieur. He use it all de time." Michel pushed himself off the desk and came closer to Logan, casually. "Mebbe, he use it on y', oui?"

Logan didn't answer him. He didn't say anything. Moving away from Michel, who was teasing him with soft carresses, he left the room. Growling, he sauntered out of the house and stopped on the front porch for a moment. Logan resheathed his claws and stared up at the bright round moon above him. He was thirsty and wanted to think over what Michel had said.

He'd spent the better part of the night in a dark, sleazy pub. He sipped his beer and thought hard about what Michel said. When he was finished with the beer, he ordered a double dry martini and an ashtray. Michel's words seemed to seep into his head as he thought about how he had met the boy in Paris. He was clearing. Logan kicked himself for being so damned gullable, but at the same time, there was a percentage of doubt that bounced around in the confusion.

***********************

Remy had gotten up and out of bed, sometime during the night. He took his time as he took one step at a time, to the first floor. Gripping the bannister for dear life, and taking painstakingly slow steps down the stairs, Remy looked about the empty and nearly dark house as he called for Logan.

The clock by the front door struck 2 AM, making Remy jump as he stood on the bottom step. His eyes glowed red as he took the final step down. He raised a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright chandelier in the dining room, as he turned the corner. His stomach growled and he started to shiver from his bare feet on the cold tile. Remy hadn't bothered to put on anything else over his boxers and t-shirt.

Slowly making his way to the adjoining kitchen, he stopped as his heard the front door open and close. "Logan?"

Footsteps on the stairs, stopping. He called again.

"L-Logan?"

The footsteps came back down the stairs and turned the corner to stand in the dining room. "What the hell are you doin outta bed? Didn't I tell you to stay in bed and rest? Get upstairs!" Logan looked at the startled boy and pointed to the wall that hid the stairs.

"But, 'm hungry....? Y' weren' here so I t'ought I take a walk, eh?" Remy put a hand to his stomach as it growled again.

Logan grabbed Remy's left arm and started to pull him towards the entranceway. He stopped when Remy yelped in pain at the rough touch. He let go and growled. "Get upstairs. I'll bring ya somethin to eat. Now git, 'fore I carry ya." Logan brushed past him and went into the kitchen. He hadn't waited to see Remy's expression, or hear his answer.

Walking around the corner, Remy sat down on the third stair and waited. His hands were clasped together in his lap. He listened to Logan slam around the kitchen. Finally, he pulled himself up and started back down the stairs. He was about to turn the corner when he came face to face with Logan. "You ok, cher?"

"Thought I told you to get back in bed, Cajun?" Logan set the plate of food down on the step. Grabbing hold of Remy's right arm, he pushed Remy back up the stairs.

"Oui, cher, but.... somet'ing is botherin you, no??" Remy struggled to get out of Logan's hurtful grasp.

"Yea, Cajun, somethin is botherin me." Logan looked at Remy for a long minute. Inhaling his scent, he answered. "Been too long since I fucked ya. C'mere!"

"Wha--?" Remy's speech was cut off by Logan laying him down, against the jabbing stairs. Logan's mouth was assaulting his neck as it kissed and nipped at the tender skin. "Logan? Unh, Logan, please stop, mon cher! Logan! Y' hurtin m', cher." Remy cried and grabbed for something- anything. Logan didn't hear him. His boxers were being pushed down, and a hard and wet length started pushing itself into his tight opening. He cried out in pain, but the assualt wouldn't cease. Remy could feel Logan start to release, and pushed away, again. "Logan, arret, mon cher!" Finally, his hand closed around the fork. He charged it. Stabbing Logan in the right shoulder with it, he pushed again and felt a hot wet spurt against his opening as Logan was forced out. He sent Logan flying back into the bannister of the stairs and across the way to the livingroom wall, as it exploded. Remy gasped for air and pulled his boxers back into place.

Logan sat there, against the wall, stunned. Releasing his claws, defensively, he growled and stared back at the shocked Remy. "Damn, kid. Didn't know ya liked to play rough." Logan stood up and stepped toward Remy. He was still aroused and wanted more.

Pushing himself back against the wall, Remy grabbed the knife that had been under a scoop of peas, and charged it. "Cher, don' make me do dis. Don' und'stan mon amour." He tried to get up and run for the top of the stairs, but the sharp pain in his ribs had other ideas. He cringed and huddled against the wall.

Logan was silent as he came closer. Stopping at the broken bannister, he surveyed it. "Went to see your hustler. He told me about a certain charm power, you have. I thought, hmm, has the kid been usin it on me?" Logan reached forward and grabbed Remy's neck in one hand, and picked him up. He held Remy against the wall and growled. "Once again, ya aint talking to me, kid. Is that what you've been doin? Huh?"

Remy gasped and whimpered. The movement hurt, and tears started to fall. Remy had nearly forgotten about the still charged knife in his hand. "N-n-non cher, I didn'-..." Remy groaned as he was lifted up, off of the step and pushed even harder against the wall.

Logan grabbed Remy's right wrist and squeezed. "Yer lyin to me, boy. How many times do I have ta tell you, don't lie to me" He growled and had started slamming Remy's back into the wall, not caring about the screams of pain, or the kid's ribs.

Remy wriggled his wrist free and brought the knife up, between them, to Logan's chest. Driving it in between Logan's third and forth rib, he let go and pushed Logan away from him. He watched as Logan was forced back, again.

As the knife exploded, Logan had landed against the bookshelf and groaned as a few books from the high shelves fell on him. He shook his head and stood up. Logan glared at Remy, but didn't move or say anything. He watched as Remy held his chest in his left hand and inched his way up the stairs.

"Remy no lie, cher. Didn'- uh- didn' use his charm, wit' you, here. Sil vous plait, cher. No more? Logan, Remy love you." Remy winced as Logan came to stand within inches of him.

"Wrong answer, kiddo!" He grabbed Remy's arm again and pulled the boy close to him. "You like bein a whore so much, fine. Here's the perfect opportunity to be treated like one. My personal slut, Remy. I don't care about yer damned ribs, or the pain. I don't have to care about a slut. Just as long as I get that pretty ass, right?" He reached around Remy, grabbed a firm cheek and squeezed.

Remy was being pulled up the stairs. He could feel Logan's growing hostility. "Don' y' believe Remy loves you, cher?"

"Hm. Nope." Logan didn't look at him. He set his sights on the bedroom, at the top of the stairs, and dragged Remy to it. He'd ignored the cries of pain and pleadings to stop. His mind was focused on getting the kid into bed, yet there was something that told him not to.

********************

Logan was merciless in bed. He lie on his back and held the kid atop him, by the hips. He watched as Remy moved, up and down, slowly over his erection. The tears fell onto his chest as Remy whimpered and cried in pain. Thinking to himself about how gorgeous the kid looked, even in so much pain and naked. Sitting forward, over Logan, with his hands braced on Logan's shoulders. God, how beautiful. He growled and forced Remy to move faster.

Remy panted and gasped as Logan's steel hand grabbed at his manhood and started pulling him. He wanted to please Logan, and tried to move in to kiss him, but a hand held him back. His eyes closed, and he was being moved faster. He cried out as seering hot liquid shot up into him. The hand had abandoned his length to hold Remy's hips down onto the pulsing erection until it was over.

When it was over, Remy was allowed to lean to the left, and slide off of Logan. His hand cupped his own manhood as he looked at Logan, who didn't bother acknowledging him. "Better, monsieur? Remy make it better?"

"Get out. I don't sleep with sluts." Logan growled and clasped his hands behind his head.

Remy lay there. It hurt to pant, and it hurt to move. He stared at Logan in shock. "But, mon amour, please, I-..." Remy reached out to touch Logan's chest, and Logan grabbed him.

"I said, get out. I only sleep with people I trust and love. Now, get out, or do I have ta throw you out?" Logan's eyes were closed and he growled and pushed Remy away from him.

Bowing his head and whimpering, Remy silently slid off of the bed and left the room. He was still hard, and hadn't been allowed his own orgasm. Worse than that, he wasn't loved in return. Picking a bedroom down the hall from his own. He shut the door, and lay on his back, atop the bare mattress. Wrapping a gentle hand around his manhood, he spread his legs and bent them so that his feet were flat against the mattress. Stroking himself, gently, he closed his eyes and imagined his hand was Logan's. He pulled a bit harder and gasped as his hips jerked up and he came in warm streams that striped his thin stomach. He panted and opened his eyes. He was alone in the dark room. He sighed and stretched out flat.

His dreams were haunting. Scattered pictures of Michel forcing into him, on the floor of his office. Violent images. Punches and screams as he was violated, repeatedly. Then it was over with. He lay on his side and Michel was kicking him and cursing at him. Another dream was of Logan being so gentle with him. Making love to him, so softly and slowly. Kisses and giggles and warm touches. New sensations is what drew him to Logan. Logan could be firm and wild, yet he was more gentle and loving than anyone else Remy had ever been with- save his deceased wife. He loved Logan. The older man didn't believe him, but he loved him anyway. Now, all he had to do, was prove it.



PART 4

When Remy woke up the next morning, he found himself laying on his right side, curled up and covered by a thick red velvet blanket. It had taken him a full minute to remember that he was in a room, down the hall and across from his own. There had been plenty of things he couldn't remember from the night before, and some he wished to forget. He didn't remember covering himself before he fell asleep, and there hadn't been any linen on the bed. Sitting up, he looked about the room. The door was still closed and he was still alone, but how did he get the blanket?

The room itself was mostly empty. Dark wooden floor that was kept well oiled and polished. A bed that lay across from the door, and a tall arched canopy above it. Golden brown twin bedside tables on either side and a matching dresser that only stood 6 inches taller than the 3 foot tall bed. Paintings decorated the off-white walls, and a small plush, green love seat guarded a small corner to the right of the door, looking in. The great window behind the headboard of the bed, was curtained only by a thin pull-down curtain with thin lace curtains bordering it.

Remy looked to the end of the bed and found clean clothes sitting on top of a neatly folded peach towel. Did Logan do this? Why? Remy mused on the subject before hearing a knock at the door.

"Monsieur Remy? Are you allright?" A female voice asked. The voice was soft, low and somewhat nervous sounding. She knocked again, but didn't open the door. "Monsieur? Are you in dere?"

Remy hugged the blanket about him and answered her. "Oui, chere. Ici. Sil vous plait, Monique, will y' run de bath f'r me?"

"Oui, monsieur."

"Monique?" Remy slid off of the bed and inched his way to the door.

"Oui?"

"Is Logan dere??" His voice was near a whisper as he leaned against the shut door.

She paused before she answered. "No monsieur. He left as I came here. Monsieur say he be back later. I run de bath f'r you, monsieur." She said as she hurried down the hall.

"Merci." Remy whispered and turned back to the bed. He draped the blanket over the side of the bed and slid the towel out from underneath the pile of clothes. Wrapping it around his waist, he gathered the clothes and moved back to the door.

The door opened and Remy took cautious steps out of the room. He stood in the middle of the hall and winced in pain. Monique hadn't come back yet. He could hear the water running and her footsteps on the floor, he smiled.

Monique gasped in shock. "Monsieur! Are you allright?" Monique was an older woman, in her 40s, but she sometimes seemed as if she were reliving her 20s. Remy had hired her because he liked her compassion and unusual tactfulness. She was nearly as tall as him, with long black hair that she neatly kept in a long braid, behind her. She wasn't thin, but also not big. Monique could be quite the motherly type over Remy, sometimes. With her four near-grown children, he didn't mind it as much. Her hazel eyes opened wide and she moved closer to him. Looking at his bruises, she cringed at the sight. "Did monsieur do dis t' you, chile?"

"Non, chere. Logan didn' do dis. Sil vous plait, mon chere, help m' t' de bath?" Remy smiled faintly at her as she took his arm and slowly walked with him down the hall.

With Monique's assistance, Remy sat down in the warm bubble bath and hissed at the heat. She busied herself with re-folding the towel and setting it down on the toiletseat lid, on top of his clothes. Handing him a cloth to wash himself with, and soap, she sat on the edge of the tub and shook her head. "Monsieur, y' too young t' know pain. How dis happen, monsieur? Y' been wit' dat Jaques 'gain?" Her eyes looked at him, softly. She knew she had no right to accuse him of anything, as well as overstep her place. Yet, Remy allowed her to talk to him as a friend and sometimes a mother.

"Non, it was no' Jaques. Remy jus' a stupid chile." He whimpered and hung his head in shame.

Monique stood up and frowned at him. "Non, you a wonderful young man. Monsieur Logan, he care f'r y' very much." She patted his head and started for the door. "I cook y' breakfas', oui? Y' eat an' fatten up. Monique take bon care of y', chile." She said as she left the room and headed down the stairs, softly humming to herself.

Remy washed himself, gingerly, and called for Monique, who was on her way back up the stairs. Standing up and easing himself out of the tub, he grabbed the towel and wrapped it about him before she came into the room. She hadn't bothered shutting the door, when she left, in case he needed her help. He groaned and inched his way down to sit on the toiletseat lid.

Monique shook her head at him. "I set y' breakfas' on de table. Shoul' I bring it t' y', monsieur? De pain tres mal? Oui, y' go back t' bed, an' I bring it t' y'." She watched him pat himself with the towel and wince as the cloth came into contact with his bruises.

"Remy walk down de stairs, chere. Need t' walk. Y' help m' get dress'd, oui? Har' f'r Remy t' move." He cringed as he bent over to put his boxers on. Groaning slightly, Remy waited for her to help him.

Kneeling beside him, Monique slid his feet into the material and helped him to stand up. She removed the towel from his waist and pulled his boxers up the rest of the way. It hadn't been the first time she'd seen him naked. She'd been with him since he moved into the house, some years prior. She had known about his lifestyle from the beginning and it hadn't been her business to pay mind to it. He was a nice young man, who needed someone there to help him, and give him motherly attention from time to time.

When Remy was dressed, she helped him down the stairs and into the dining room. Monique had taken the plate away from him and told him that she would bring him some more hot eggs and bacon. She'd also told him not to move from his chair until she came back. He smiled as she gave him a stern motherly look before disappearing into the kitchen.

Remy sat there, patiently. His stomach was growling almost nonstop. He hadn't eaten in nearly two days. He was so hungry, and tired. The only thing that seemed to be keeping him awake was the constant stab of pain in his chest.

Monique returned and placed the plate of hot scrambled eggs, bacon and grits down in front of Remy and watched him dig in, immediately. She sat down in the chair beside him and leaned against the edge of the table on her arms. Her left elbow came to prop up her hand as she rested her chin on her palm. "Slow down, chile. Y' get a tummy ache." She said, softly.

Remy ate in silence. He winced every now and then as the fork came in contact with the bruise on his cheek. He had forgotten about that one. He set his fork down on the plate and sat back, folding his hands in his lap. He waited for Monique to take the plate into the kitchen before helping him to stand
up.

"Di' Logan say when he b' back, Monique?" Remy asked as he sat down and turned his body to stretch his legs out, onto the sofa. He was covered from the waist down with a blanket Monique had retrieved from the linen closet, across from the bathroom.

"Non. He tell me you in de end be'room, sleepin. Say he go get 'nother car? Monsieur, you in an accident?" Monique fluffed a cushion behind him and then brought the blanket up to his chest. She stood back to admire her work in getting Remy more comfortable to rest.

Remy leaned against the pillows in a half sitting, half lying position. "Oui. Remy ha' bad acciden', chere. I be okay, madam. Go finish, oui?" Remy groaned and slid himself down into the sofa, and shut his eyes for a nap.

Tucking him in more, Monique muttered to herself that she shouldn't have gone on vacation like she was told to, just yet. Still, she hushed her ramblings and cursings and made her way back upstairs to clean.

***********************

Logan came home later that evening, and headed upstairs. Turning the corner into the bedroom, he stopped and stared into Remy's red on black eyes. They stared at each other for a long while, unmoving. Logan had no clue about what was going on. The anger danced on him and he was sure Remy picked up on it.

Remy sat naked, patiently waiting, on the side of the bed. The glow of his bedside lamp lit up his bruised skin. His clothes had been placed at the end of the bed, neatly folded. Remy watched Logan's expression go blank, and decided to make the first move. He pushed himself up, off of the bed and knelt on the floor, in front of Logan. Looking up, he reached a shaky hand to Logan's belt buckle. "I be good, cher. Won' cry. Promise, m'sieur." Remy whispered, softly, and started to unbuckle Logan's belt.

He was stopped by Logan's hand, and then lifted to his feet by strong hands on his arms. He cringed and turned his head away, closing his eyes.

Logan could smell the fear rolling off of Remy like painted on cologne. A hint of copper soaked into the fear as Remy had bitten his bottom lip so hard it bled. He smiled before pulling the boy close to him, and hugging him, gently.

Remy was caught off guard, and gasped at the sudden embrace. "Please, monsieur, y' be gen'le wit' Remy? I make love t' y', but be gen'le, oui?" Wrapping his arms around Logan, he started to shake, uncontrollably.

"No." Logan's voice was soft and low.

"No?" Remy sighed, fighting back tears of knowing the pain that would be in store for him. "D'accord, cher."

Logan pulled away from him and looked at him. "I meant no, as in you aint gonna fuck me, t'night." He cupped Remy's cheek and moved to kiss him, but stopped as Remy froze in fear. Logan released the boy and walked around to his side of the bed. He sat down and began undressing. He heard Remy move behind him, and turned to see.

Remy had picked up his clothes from the end of the bed and turned to leave.

"Where you goin?" Logan watched him.

"Y' don' wan' Remy tonight, monsieur. I leave y' 'lone, oui? Monique make de gues' bed up f'r Remy. He sleep dere til, y' wan' him 'gain." Remy couldn't bring himself to look at Logan. He faced the door and bowed his head.

Logan sighed and stood up. He walked around the bed and turned Remy around to face him. "No darlin. I want you, right here with me, Remy. T'night aint yer night for tricks." Logan took the clothes away from Remy, and tossed them back to their spot on the end of the bed. He held Remy's hair back, away from his face, and whispered into Remy's right ear. "I've been so hard for you, all day, baby. You smelled so wonderful this mornin, darlin. All that come on ya, and lookin like you were in Heaven with yer whet dream. Oh baby, I been wantin you so bad. Lay down, for me, Rem." Logan helped Remy to sit on the edge of the bed and bring himself to lie full on the bed. He undid his belt and then his pants. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the floor next to his pants and boxers. "Who were ya dreamin about, baby?" Logan asked as he loomed overtop of Remy, and started kissing him gently on the jawline and neck.

Remy hesitated for a moment, and answered in a choked whisper. "You, cher. Remy was dreamin y' were makin love t' him." He paused and moaned, slightly. "An' dat--" Remy couldn't finish his sentence. Instead, he leaned into the soft kisses and touches that Logan was administering.

"And what, kid?" Logan stopped and met Remy's eyes.

"Dat, y' b'lieve Remy love y', cher. Only wan' t' love y', Logan. Y' know dat?" He knew he was taking a chance at ruining the whole night, let alone the moment, but he felt he had to say it.

The silence was tense. Logan stared into Remy's pleading eyes, and then kissed the trembles away from the velvet lips. "I know ya do, darlin. And, yes baby, I want ta make love to you, right now, Remy. Do you want it, darlin?"

"Oui, cher." As Logan moved to kiss him again, Remy turned his head. "Logan, Remy don'.... umm, Remy tell y' he won't use his powers on y', n' more. Oui? Wan' y' t' love Remy f'r him, non? Remy wan' t' spen' his life wit' you, mon amour. D' y' wan' me, Logan?"

"Yes, baby. Just like that." Logan whispered, and continued to kiss Remy. With his right hand, he held himself above Remy. His left he used to pull his throbbing erection free. Stroking himself a few times before he reached up to catch Remy's hand, and stop him from turning off the light. "No. I want it on. I want to look into your eyes, at how beautiful you look, when you come. I have better plans for this hand, baby." Logan placed Remy's captured hand around his manhood. "Stroke me, Rem. Make me come for you."

Remy did as he was asked.

Logan moaned and started to thrust himself into Remy's hand. Pushing Remy's legs apart, Logan lightly pushed his left index finger into Remy's tight opening. He stopped when Remy hissed and froze. "Shh, it's ok. Just keep pullin me, baby." Logan moaned and closed his eyes as he moved his finger deeper into Remy. "Almost there, baby. You look so pretty, right now. That's it, Rem, pull me harder." Logan inserted another finger into him and continued his rhythm in Remy's hand. He watched Remy close his eyes and bite his lower lip in anticipation.

Remy's eyes shot open as a few drops of pre-come dripped on to his own erection. With his free hand, he reached up to stroke Logan's bare chest. "Y' come now, cher?" He asked in a tired whisper.

Moaning again, Logan kissed his Remy's bruised cheek, softly. "Yes, baby. I'm gonna come for ya, right now." Slowly sliding the fingers out of the tight opening, Logan moved Remy's hand away from his throbbing length and placed the tip just before the entrance. He pulled himself, harshly, and tensed as the hot fluid shot out of him and onto the tight hole between Remy's long and gorgeous legs.

Remy gasped at the wetness, and moaned as Logan's left middle finger spread the white fluid over and into the entrance. "Mon cher, I--" Remy was cut off as Logan simultaneously captured his mouth, removed his finger, and pushed his length into Remy. He winced in pain, and tears dripped from his tightly shut eyes.

Logan stopped, and waited. "It's gonna be ok, Rem. I'll go slow. Ok?" Logan looked down at Remy. He waited for Remy to look at him and acknowledge what he had said.

As Remy opened his eyes, reached up to run both hands over Logan's chest. "Oui, cher. Need y', Logan."

With a smile, Logan slowly pushed himself deeper into Remy. He stopped again when he saw the tears pour from Remy's eyes. "Want me to stop?" With the thumb of his right hand, Logan wiped the tears away.

"Non. Don' stop, mon amour. Don' stop. Remy wan' t' please y', cher." Remy placed his hands on Logan's hips and pulled him deeper into his trembling body. He gasped as Logan buried himself to the hilt.

Logan started a slow rhythm. He had to restrain himself from giving in to the urge to thrust harder. Letting the slow movement gently ease Remy into relaxing his body. He could feel himself struggling with release, he fought it back. "Yer close, darlin. I can smell it. I'm gonna come, Remy. I want to watch you come with me. It'll be over with, soon, babe. Come for me, Remy." Logan cooed into Remy's left ear. He was right. His soft whisper had pushed Remy over the brim and he raised himself up to watch Remy tense, and pant as his hot liquid splashed onto his chest and stomach.

Remy's body was still spasming as Logan pushed deep into him and pulsed his own hot orgasm into the beautifully sweet body beneath him. He met Logan's eyes and stared at him in pleasant shock he had felt.

As he removed himself, Logan reached up and turned off the light before lying beside Remy and cuddling him. "You looked so pretty, baby. I love it when you come so good for me." He smiled and then moved to lick Remy's taut stomach and chest clean from the sticky orgasm. Logan laughed as he tickled the boy beneath him, with his tongue.

**************************

Michel burst into Remy's room and pulled the sleeping boy from his warm bed. "Time t' pay up, cher! Y' gon' earn y' keep, here, Remy!" Michel struggled with Remy before eventually winning the battle and ripping the boy's clothing off of him.

"Non, Michel, please! Remy pay y', monsieur!" Remy struggled against the mattress.

Michel sneered at him. "De petite fille dead now, chile! An' de baby? Where de lit'le one, Remy? He grow up t' be jus' like his pere, no? I even let y' show him de ropes, ne c'est pas?" Michel spat and ran his tongue bruisingly over Remy's jugular as his knee pushed Remy's legs apart.

Remy struggled again. "Leave him alone, Michel. He jus' a chile!"

Laughing cruelly, Michel held Remy's hands above his head in one strong grasp, while the other hastily pulled down his own zipper and released his length. "So de boy too young righ' now. His han'some pere make up f'r de loss, oui? I teach y' how t' fuck an' blow dick, hey? Y' repay me f'r takin a brat like y' in. I give dis dick t' y' over an' over til y' like it. Y' gon' like it, Remy. I give y' dis house, now y' gon' earn it." With that, Michel forced himself into Remy. Covering the boy's mouth with his free hand, as Remy cried out in pain. "Sshhh, petit! De chile sleepin." Michel smirked.

Using the same harsh force and equal rhythm each time, Michel raped Remy a total of 4 times before the boy gave in to the assault. But, he wasn't about to stop with the satisfaction of not being fought. He was enjoying the feeling of moving in and out of the soft velvet body. Having Remy's blood lubricate his length, he was in Heaven. Michel forced Remy's empathy to it's limits. Filling his mind just as harshly as he was filling his body, with sultry, slutty, tempting thoughts and tastes.

Remy had been able to move his hands from above him, for some time. Letting his fingers play in Michel's hair, he brought the older man's lips to his and kissed him. "I won' figh', Michel. I take de chile's place, but only me. I work f'r y'. Repay de debt, in full. Leave de boy alone, d'accord?" Remy said, calmly, as Michel's pace increased.

Michel smirked and scoffed. Slamming into Remy, panting and crying out, they both tensed and froze as orgasm wracked Michel's body. Hearing his own vile and violent heartbeart pound mercilessly inside his chest, Michel forced Remy's lips apart and thrust his tongue into his warm mouth, tasting him. Pulling back, he grabbed Remy by the hair and hissed into his ear. "Y' mine, Remy. Dis ass gon' belong t' me f'r a long time. I fix dis broken hear' of yo's real good. Den y' won' need t' sleep where de fille was, t' feel good, chile." He nipped at Remy's earlobe and pulled out of him.

Watching the man move down Remy's naked and sweat-glistened body, Remy gasped in shock as Michel's tongue run along his length.

Michel sucked on the hard manhood. Swirling his tongue around the tip, while rubbing the pair of fuzzless balls beneath it with his right hand. He smiled as Remy gasped and shook at the touch. With his left hand, he slid his middle finger into the now stretched, slick entrance. Probingly, he moved the finger around inside the hole.

Remy gasped and arched his hips up into the mouth as was forced into sudden orgasm. His hands fisted in Michel's pressed black shirt, as the finger pushed deeper inside him. A low growl rose from Remy's throat. He was panting, loudly.

Stopping his ministrations on Remy's now limp length, Michel removed his slick finger and licked it clean. "Mmm, chile. See how good i' is when y' don' figh'?" As Remy nodded in mute shame, Michel ran his tongue along the tight crack. The tip of his tongue, probed the rapidly tightening entrance, and licked it clean. Pulling away, and moving back up to whisper into Remy's ear, he hissed. "Y' do fine til de boy reach his time. Y' let ol' Michel show him how t' use his dick, non? De pere can teach him de res'."

As Michel rolled off of Remy, and lay to his left, he rest on his back. Michel closed his eyes and panted, heavily. He was surprised to feel Remy's tongue run along his limp shaft. "Mm, non, boy. De dick go down yer t'roat. An' den y' suck til he come. If y' good at i', he let y' swallow." Michel opened his eyes to watch Remy clean his manhood off before holding the back of his head and pushing the blunt tip into the warm mouth. "I tell y' wha', chile. Y' suck Michel good, he leave de boy out of dis whole mess. His pere work i' off, non?" Michel gasped and knotted his fingers in Remy's hair, as the young man's mouth worked hungrily at him. "Mmm, boy, y' done dis b'fore, oui?"

Remy continued until Michel cried out and came in a thick, spurting mess, down Remy's deep throat. He stopped and sat up as his ears heard the baby crying the next room. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he hurried out of the room and into the room next to his.

Michel tucked himself back in and zipped up. He pushed himself up off of the bed and walked out in to the hallway. Making his way to stand in the doorway of the baby's room, he laughed to himself at the sight of Remy pacing, naked, while holding his crying son. Watching the boy bounce slightly, and shush the blanket-covered baby back to sleep, he smirked. "How sweet. De pere can balance sex an' his chile. Remember Remy, yo body is mine." He laughed fully as Remy continued to pace while
glaring at him.

************************

Remy rolled over and looked at Logan. He smiled and eased himself off of the bed. Making his way, slowly, to the bathroom, Remy felt sick. His dream hadn't been something he'd really want to remember.

He sank to his knees in front of the bowl and vomited. Choking back tears and more heavings, he coughed. He flushed and stood up to rinse his mouth out before brushing his teeth.

"You ok, darlin?" Logan's voice startled him. Calm, soft, and a tad worried, Logan stood in the doorway and watched Remy brush.

Remy spit and rinsed before he looked at the other man. "Oui, cher. Jus' felt sick. Remy has bad dreams, sometimes. I fine, cher. We go back t' bed, oui? Or, shoul' Remy sleep in de room, alone, 'gain?" He was answered with a soothing arm around him and a kiss as he was guided back to their bedroom.

Logan held him close and played with his hair as they fell asleep. The moonlight bathed them in cool blues and gentle glows. Logan smiled and gave in to unconsciousness.



PART 5

Three months had passed, and Remy was feeling better. He could move without too much pain, and his bruises were almost gone completely. Today, he was feeling chipper enough to bound out of the bedroom and slide down the long oak bannister, on his way to breakfast. With amazing grace and balance, he sat sideways, and was fixing his cuffs on his long sleeves as he glided to the bottom. Remy smiled as Logan came through the front door, in time to catch him as his ride come to a close.

Logan looked up from the folded newspaper and opened his arms to receive the gently descending Cajun. Catching the youth, he was knocked backward, and landed flat on his back, on the floor. Staring up as Remy plastered him with nipping kisses, he was told "Happy Bir'day!" repeatedly.

"We have a big party, t'night, cher. We have lots o' people an' music. Fun time, mon amour!" Remy stopped his light kisses and gave Logan a deep, tongue-sparring kiss the seemed to last an eternity in a minute.

"Is that so, huh?" Logan smiled and asked as the kiss finally broke.

"Oui. I call de caterers an' de gues's. We have a tres bon time, non? Dis gon' be de bes' bir'day ever, cher!" Remy was beaming with excitement.

Logan laughed, and let his hands move down to Remy's firm backside as he heard the kid moan as he squeezed, gently. "How long we got, kid?" He asked as he kissed Remy's warm neck and reveled in the silk strands that fell over his face.

Remy moaned again and tilted his head to the left so that Logan had easier access. "Dey be here la'er, cher. Y' come upstairs an' Remy give y' yo' present?" He winked and climbed off of Logan. Helping the other man up, he managed to convince Logan to follow him up the stairs.

**************************

At around 5PM guests started arriving. Men and women alike hugged, kissed and shook hands with both of them.

The music played and people danced and laughed loudly at stories and jokes. Remy was too busy rushing around with drinks and half empty bottles to notice anything. Finally, a well-needed breath of air led him out onto the front porch to stare out at the rows of cars in the drive. His eyes roamed over the tops and out past the gate. They stopped as he saw a dark figure, leaning against a limo's backseat door, and smoking a cigarette. Waiting until the figure inhaled, his breath caught in his throat.

Michel.

Remy breathed out and glanced back inside to look for Logan. Not finding him, he walked down the steps. He made his leisurely way down the drive, and over to the man. "Logan kill y' if he know y' here, Michel."The gate had been open, but Michel had the limo park in front of it, instead of driving in. Remy slipped his hands into his pants pockets and stopped within a few paces of Michel. He squinted as Michel blew smoke at him and laughed.

"Di'n' come here t' see y' lover, chile. Get in." Michel moved to open the backseat door and waved the boy into the dark and still vehicle. He smiled as Remy obeyed and slid all the way to the other side. Dropping the cigarette to the gravel and stamping it out, he exhaled the smoke and climbed in after the boy. Shutting the door behind him, he looked into Remy's eyes. "Got somet'in t' show y', boy."

Smirking again, he turned on a small reading lamp he had attached to the door, and reached into his jacket. Pulling something from his left breast, inside pocket, he handed it to Remy. "Y' hide him, but no' good enough, chile. He such a bonne petit, Remy. Jus' like his pere." Michel smiled, smugly.

A gasp escaped Remy. He turned in his seat and stared, horror-struck, at the older man. He forced a whisper in reply. "Non, non Michel...... sil vouz plait? Only Remy do dis, cher. Leave de boy alone." Several tears dropped from his eyes. His gaze was cast downward as Michel had wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into a casual embrace. Resting his head on Michel's shoulder, his eyes stared at the black and white photo of a young boy around 6 years old.

Michel nodded in fake sympathy. "Oui...... oui. I know, petit." Hooking a finger under Remy's chin, and turning his head to kiss Remy's lips, he whispered. "De boy too young f'r dis, oui. An' his pere do a fine job wit' his loss." He paused. "Mmm, chile. I jus' wan' y' happy, petit. I try t' spare de pain o' y' tellin de boy y' a whore, Remy. Such a han'some chile, Remy. Y' come back t' me, an' I f'get de whole t'ing, no?" He continued to talk between kisses. Hushing as his lips were parted and Remy's tongue slid in to lightly carress his.

Remy pleaded, silently, with Michel. Tender embraces, and soft smacking of their lips as they kissed and tasted each other for several moments. "Michel? Wha' if...... wha' if Remy slip 'way from Logan, ev'ry week, an' ....." Remy looked up, into the man's calm brown eyes and searched him for any sign of sympathy. He found none.

"Shhh, petit. Y' worry too much. I tell y' wha', no?" Michel shifted in his seat, moving his hips forward and clearing his throat. His right arm remained around Remy's shoulders. With his left hand, he reached to Remy's right hand and snatched the photo away. Tossing it onto the seat, in the small space between them, he quickly snatched the hand itself. "Y' know how t' change m' mine, chile." He pressed Remy's open hand to his covered erection. As Remy pressed his palm against it, Michel had brought his hand up to finger Remy's soft cheek and wipe away the falling tears.

Remy sighed. "Oui, cher." He unzipped Michel's pants and freed the overly excited length. Rubbing tiny circles around the length with his fingertips, Remy leaned forward and lapped teasingly at the tip. Michel hissed and fisted his hand into the back of Remy's shirt. Remy continued to swirl his tongue over the tip.

"Ahh, Remy, you always so good at dis, cher. You like dis wit' him, chile? Or, does he like it rough? Hey? I bet he loves y' suckin him s' good, petit." Michel moaned and gasped as Remy became more intense with his ministrations. He threw his head back and closed his eyes. Playing with Remy's long hair, he found himself babbling mindlessly in french. Returning to his empty promises, he opened his eyes to watch Remy gasp and continue his throaty moans and whimpers of pleasure as Michel gave in to release. Holding Remy's head down, his hips spasmed and he released again. "Ah, ohh...mmm.... chile. Da's better, no? Ol' Michel know what y' need, boy." Michel played, lazily, with Remy's hair and smiled as the young man sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Remy stared at the man's now limp appendage. "Y' let him go now, Michel? Please, Remy d' wha'ever y' wan' but don' hur' de chile?" Remy looked past Michel and focused on a figure, leaning against a column at the top of the stairs, on the porch. He was snapped back to attention with Michel's zipper moving into place, and the older man leaning forward to do something.

Michel held his breath in for a minute, before taking out a small mirror and a vile full of white powder from his coat pocket. Pouring the powder out onto the mirror and making his lines, he took a small glass straw out of his pocket and offered it to Remy. He shrugged when Remy declined, and then turned to inhale the two lines on the mirror. Sitting back, sated, he cleared his throat and then looked at Remy. "Tell me 'bout y' lover, chile. He get dat ass ever'day? How d' his dick feel, petit? Y' like it? He ever let y' do him? Or, is petit Remy only allowed t' come on de ou'side? He don' like de cajun dick, oui?"

Remy picked up the photo again and stared at it, ignoring Michel. The child had grown handsomely. And, he wanted desparately to be in his son's life. He sighed. "Michel, don'..... don' do dis t' Logan. He love Remy, Michel." He was caught off guard as Michel grabbed his wrists and pulled his sleeves back.

"Y' call dis love, Remy? He got y' ass, but he need t' bruise y' body, too? Y' like his fuck, Remy?" Michel was angry now. He crushed Remy's wrists until the boy yelped and pulled away.

"I need t' get' back." Remy reached for the doorhandle, behind him, and opened the door. Giving the photo one last look, he laid it on the plush seat. He had gotten out of the car and turned to shut it when Michel caught his attention.

"Keep de photo, chile. He your boy."

"Merci, Michel." Remy bent over to look inside the car and snatch the item up.

"An' Remy....? Y' come t' de house Tuesday, we discuss de details, non? Noon. Don' be late, boy." Michel scowled at Remy before the door went shut and the driver started the car.

Remy watched as the tail-lights faded, before heading back to the house. His hands held the photograph, tightly. He sighed and slipped it into his shirt pocket and then tucked his hands into his pants pockets. Remy looked up to find Logan still leaning on the column, and smoking his cigar. Taking each step slowly and cautiously, he focused his eyes in front of him.

"And, it's back to fuckin him again, huh? Shoulda taken care o' him long ago, kid. Finish this, or I will." Logan growled as he had caught Remy's arm as he passed. He turned to look at him as Remy stopped.

Sighing, Remy looked at Logan. "Logan, Remy take care of family matters, himself. Enjoy your party, mon amour. We talk 'bout dis later, ok?"

**********************

"Ah, Remy. Tell me chile, where y' fine Logan? He d' y' good, non? He manage t' get Michel 'way from y', eh? Mebbe, he take care o' y' empty bed, non?" A beautiful young man named Paul caught Remy by the arm as he had just slipped out of the kitchen with a tray full of champagne glasses. He was almost as tall as Remy, and near the same build. His soft brown hair and sparkling brown eyes could capture a persons attentions the same way his voice could. His grey suit was nearly too loose, while his tan shirt seemed to cling to his chest and reveal his well-toned chest in mute detail.

Remy smiled, faintly. "Logan is a good man. He take care of Remy." He jumped slightly, as Paul had snatched the tray out of his hands and set it down on oak table. Paul wrapped his arm around Remy and led him into the Library to chat.

Leaning against the bookshelf, so he could see the entryway to the library, Remy and Paul had sparked a small conversation about Logan and Michel. Paul had been standing in front of Remy, in an oddly close manner. He wasn't the least bit surprised when the other man leaned in and gently kissed his lips, in a moment of silence between them. Pulling away before he wanted to, Remy's eyes met with Logan's across the room, and he excused himself from Paul to go upstairs and into the bedroom.

Remy shut the door and walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Reaching to the back, past his shirts, he slid back a small panel in the right hand corner. He then reached into his shirt pocket and took out the photo of his son. Remy stared at it for a long while, then he placed it with the few other photos of he and his wife on their wedding day. Closing the drawer and then sitting on the end of the bed, he thought to himself about how bad his life had turned out.

He jumped as a soft knock on the door and a voice from behind called to him. Getting up, he walked to the door and opened it a crack. "Oui chere?" He asked the pretty young woman before him.

"You ok, sugar? You don't look so good. Drinkin get to ya?" The woman laughed a sultry and soft laugh that made Remy perk under his clothes. She pushed open the door and walked inside, resting her hands on his shoulders as they moved back into the room. Her long purple sequened gown flowed and shimmered in the bedroom light. Long red locks waved over her shoulders and down her slender back. In heels, she stood as tall as Remy, which made it easier to meet his lips with hers.

Taking her hands from his shoulders, he spoke softly, "Non, chere. Cajuns don' get drunk, we get sobre." He had backed himself up until his legs were against the side of the bed. As he sat down, she leaned cleverly over him and kissed him. He moaned and let himself be pushed backwards to lie flat on the bed. Remy kissed back and moaned, softly, as she parted his lips with her tongue and explored his soft and warm mouth. He whispered to her, in between kisses. "I-I- I can' do dis, girl. 'm sorry but, jus' can'. Mebbe, we shoul' g' downstairs an' rejoin de party, no?"

"Why, Remy, I've never known you ta turn down a romp, before." She giggled. "He's under your skin, aint he?"

Remy blushed and looked up at her from underneath of her. She had trapped him with her hands on his smooth chest, and lips on his. "Non, don' ...... we shoul' go." Remy shifted, uncomfortably, at her continuation of kisses. He gasped as one of her hands trailed down his chest and stomach and massaged his carefully hidden erection.

The woman massaged him and kissed him in a bleak attempt to wear him down and give in. As her hand pressed slightly more, she smiled as she felt his erection grow more firm. "Ooh la la, Remy." Her smile quickly faded as the door opened and she was rudely pulled off of him by a man with a mean snarl.

Remy sat up and grabbed Logan's arm as Logan had picked the girl up off of the floor by her arms and growled. "Non, Logan. Don'..... please, don'. She didn' mean harm, mon cher."

Logan could smell her fear mixed with excitement and curiosity as he held her a good 6 inches off of the floor. Setting her down, he stepped to the side as she excused herself and left the room. He shut the door behind her and took Remy by surprise as he spun around and pushed Remy back down onto the bed. Holding the young man down by a firm hand on the smooth chest, he backhanded the boy with the other. "I told you, don't fuck around, kid! Either control your damn charms, or don't come back out. Understand me?!" He hissed.

Remy nodded and stared wide-eyed up at Logan.

Releasing Remy, Logan backed up and retrieved a cigar from his shirt pocket. He lit it with a lighter from his left pants pocket, and stood there to stare at Remy, momentarily. He sighed, and watching Remy rub his sore cheek. "Clean up and come back down. They'll be leavin soon, anyway." He said as he removed the cigar from his lips and then came to lean over Remy again. Forcing a hand between the boy's legs he held his hand firmly against Remy's still stiff length. "Get rid o' this." He growled.

"Oui cher, I will." Remy's voice shook as he answered.

**********************

The rest of the night was spent as Remy and Logan were in separate rooms, mingling with different guests, yet they had always been within eye contact of each other. Logan was sitting on the sofa and talking to two very lovely ladies, while Remy stood in the dining room talking and laughing with a few older women.

Remy was handed another glass of expensive champagne as a lovely lady in her mid-thirties and her younger friend struck up a conversation with him. He talked with the ladies, and laughed at little things. He had caught himself a few times, staring past them, as he had spotted Logan talking and laughing and kissing the two ladies.

As the evening wore on, Logan had barely managed to stay awake to tell the last guest good-bye. When the last person left, he had closed his eyes and slouched into the sofa cushions to sleep off his pounding headache. His mind replayed the night's events in waves of blurred actions and voices. He could barely remember how he made it from the front door to the sofa, by himself.

Logan inhaled the sweet, peppery scent of the young beauty, leaning above him. He felt the soft touch as Remy was carefully zipping Logan's pants. He knew the boy had done something to upset him, but what was it? Without warning, he snatched thin wrists into his own hands and squeezed at them.

Opening his eyes, Logan lifted himself up off the sofa and pulled the boy closer to him.

The thief was slippery, but Logan just held him that much more tightly. He was growling and glaring at the surprised cajun. "I saw you with that bitch! Playin all cutsie with her." Slipping both of Remy's hands into one of his, he backhanded Remy across the right cheek with his right hand. He watched as the slim boy whimpered in pain, and started to bleed. "Did you take her into the kitchen and fuck her too? Huh? You little slut! You belong to me! You only fuck me, got it? Bitch!" As he backhanded Remy again, the kid slipped out of his grasp and stumbled backwards, landing into a chair.

Remy sat there in shock. His left leg dangled over the outer arm, and his back was pushed into the corner of the opposite side. He pleaded with Logan. Seeing blood on his fingers as he touched at the pain on his lip, he answered. "Oui, m'sieur. Remy only love you, Logan. Was only talkin t' de dames. Y' talkin t' de filles....." Before he could finish, Logan had raised his left hand and connected the back of it to Remy's left cheek.

Logan growled and reached for Remy's left arm, as the boy had picked up an empty wine glass with his right and charged it. He ducked as the glowing glass flew past him and exploded against the far wall, somewhere behind him. Growling again, He grabbed both of Remy's arms and struggled with him to pull him out of the chair.

Remy's voice was small and squeaky as he flinched and winced away from Logan, pleading with him to forgive what had just happened. "Non, Logan. Remy no mean it. Please, Logan. Remy be good. Y' fo'give him?" Remy begged as he was jerked out of the chair and onto the floor. He lie on his back as Logan had sat on his hips and made a fist with his right hand. Remy panicked as three shiny metal claws emerged from his fist. His arms had been pinned to his sides by Logan's strong legs. He was powerless.

In an even more jealous rage, Logan pulled the two outer claws back in, and ran the middle one under the buttons that held the boy's shirt together. Letting the other two blades out to rejoin their companion, he forced the material away from Remy's smooth and panting chest. He hissed as the tips of the three claws lightly tickled Remy's chest. "Don't ever use your powers on me again, tramp. Cause I'll kill you and won't think twice. Capiche?"

Remy gasped and held his breath in while forcing his answer out. "Oui. Crystal." Nervously nodding in frightened reflex. Closing his eyes and letting his breath out slowly, as he heard Logan drawn his claws back in and scoff at him. A hand clamped down on his hair at the back of his head, and he was being yanked to his feet.

Logan released his hold and pulled out some of the long auburn strands. Walking past Remy, he growled and mumbled, "Clean this mess up. And then come to bed." Making his way upstairs, Logan took the steps two at a time. As he finally made it to the bedroom, he closed the door and looked around. The kid had done his damnedest to pissed him off, tonight.

As Logan made his way around the bed, he stopped and punched the side of Remy's tall tan dresser. His eyes glanced over silver frames that showed pictures of Remy and a legion of men and women, in each picture. At least three pictures had the same woman with Remy. And in all three, his arm had been around her, lovingly. Something snapped inside of Logan and he had taken his anger out on the nearest thing, which had been Remy's dresser. Ripping clothes out of their places and throwing them on the floor. And then slamming every other drawer back into the frame in a rage so horrid, it would make devils shutter in fear.

Sighing in a sated manner, he slunked over to the bed and huffed out of his clothes. He lay there, in his boxers, dozing as the door opened and Remy silently gasped at the disarray of his dresser. Still, he didn't move, or even open his eyes.

Removing his clothes, and climbing into bed, Remy silently cried to himself.

Logan could smell the salt and the wetness of the tears. He rolled over onto his side, and slid himself closer to the sobbing boy. He was kissing Remy's soft shoulder and apologizing to him. "I'm sorry, Remy. You drive me so crazy sometimes. It's that charm power, baby." He kissed the smooth skin again. "You know I hate seeing you upset, hm?"

"Oui, cher." Remy closed his eyes as his breath caught in his chest. He was exhausted and utterly humiliated from the night events. He opened them again, after a moment.

Logan continued his kisses and slid a hand under the blanket to close around Remy's weeping erection. "You want me to suck ya till you come? Hm?" Giving the boy more kisses and hearing Remy's soft moans, he stopped and looked over the bare shoulder to wait for his reaction.

"Non cher, please. Remy jus' tired. We sleep now, non? I do you in de morn, ok?" Remy held his breath in again and waited for Logan to growl in disagreement at the suggestion.

"You okay, kid?"

"Oui. Jus' tired."

They snuggled together and fell asleep in a tender embrace.

****************

The next morning, Remy was awake before Logan and cleaning his room. He dressed himself and then went downstairs. Turning the corner to his right, he walked down the hall, past the half-bath to his left, and the basement door to his right. Walking straight, Remy opened the back door and screen, and slipped out. He made his way down to a young oak tree and leaned against it as he came to a stop beside it. Remy loved the tree. He had planted it himself 5 years prior, as it had barely reached adulthood. It had grown handsomely, and the shade from it was divine.

Remy watched the sun rise and picked at the tall grass that gathered around the base of the tree. He hadn't noticed that Logan had found him, sitting in front of the tree, and looking out at the sleepy town that lie at the bottom of a tall hill, the house rested on.

Logan sat down beside him and stared out at the town. "How long you been sittin here?" He asked as he broke to silence between them.

Although he heard, he had asked Logan another question, instead of answering him. "D' y' t'ink 'bout death, cher? D' we feel anyt'ing? Does i' hur' when we die? 'm tired o' hur'in, Logan."

The questions had caught Logan off guard, and in response, he put his arm around Remy and sighed as the boy rest his head on his silk covered shoulder. "I know, baby. We're all tired of hurtin. You okay?"

"Oui."

"What brought this on, Rem?" Logan looked at Remy fidgety hands that had been playing with a piece
of grass, in his lap.

"It's not'in, cher. Come, I make us breakfas', oui?" Remy pulled away from Logan and stood up.

Logan stood up and followed Remy back into the house and around to the kitchen. He made his move as Remy had pulled a box of pancake mix from a high shelf, above the sink. He cornered the young man and turned him around, as he re-asked his question. "Why did ya happen to think about death, kiddo? Tell me, Rem. What's goin on?"

When Remy didn't answer, Logan held up his hand to backhand him, but stopped when Remy flinched away from him. He stood there, and watched Remy avert his eyes until Logan put his hand down."I was t'inkin 'bout endin dis whole Michel t'ing. If Remy don' come back, y' bury him by de tree, out dere? Please?" Remy looked into Logan's eyes with a sad and uncertain expression.

Logan sighed and nodded. "Okay. But, you aint dyin yet. We'll handle this, together."

*****************

Tuesday morning, Remy had slipped out of the house, while Logan was napping after their brief scene of love-making. As he reached the gate, a strong hand grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. He stood in shock as he came face to face with a very angry Logan.

"Where the hell do you think yer goin?" Logan growled.

"I was jus'... Uhh, Non, Logan! Ow!" Remy squirmed as he was dragged by the pony-tailed hair, back into the house. His feet kicked at the gravel and his hands clawed at Logan to release him.

Logan had only been wearing his gray khaki pants. And his thick leather belt had been hanging open, making a tinking sound as the buckle swished. Not breaking a single step, he dragged the screaming cajun back into the house and slammed him against the stairs. "Again, where the hell were ya goin?"

Remy glared. "Y' know where I was goin. Y' tell Remy t' take care o' Michel, he do it."

"How?"

Remy lowered his eyes and blushed, slightly. "Blow de house up."

With a sharp smack to Remy's left cheek, Logan growled. "God kid, can ya be any more stupid than you already are?! You want the cops on you? Use yer damn head, kid. Turn him in for drugs, or whatever else you know about. Think, child!"

"Logan, Michel owns half de force, cher. Da's how he live wit'out dem closin him down." Remy spoke calmly, as he had brought himself to look at Logan and watch the man begin to pace the width of the stairs.

Logan stopped. "What ya got in mind, then?"

He sighed and stared into Logan's angry expression. "Y' won' like it, mon amour." Remy pushed himself up, off of the stairs and caressed Logan's bare chest. Speaking so softly, he watched his own fingers play in the fuzz. "Remy t'inks dat..... if Logan let him, he d' Michel, an'... Jaques. Den, Remy charge de bed an' poof, no mo' Michel an' Jaques de Corte. Mon cher, da's all Remy gon' do. Y' come wit', t'
make sure, even. No?"

"What would the cops do if they caught ya? Give ya a goin over, like what ya had before?" Logan stood there, still. He had folded his arms in front of his chest, and forced himself not to moan at the gentle massagings.

"Dey don' care 'bout Remy, cher. Dey not care if he live or die. Michel an' Jaques, dey jus' waitin f'r somet'in t' happen. Da's all. Y' help Remy?"

"Ok." Logan sighed.

***************************

"Here t' see Michel de Corte." Remy called to the monster of a guard at the front door, as he and Logan got out of the car. He had been nudged to walk behind Logan, in case something should happen. He smiled at the gesture.

The guard nodded and took a step toward them as they approached the top of the steps. He moved to pat Logan down for weapons, but was stopped by a voice from behind him. He turned to see Michel standing in the doorway, still in his satin bedrobe. Stepping to the side, he watched as the two passed him and followed Michel into the house.

Michel led them down the long hallway, and into his office, where Jaques had been waiting. "We have a family reunion, Jaques. I know y' miss Remy terribly. An' his lover, Logan? Y' remember, he was de man dat beat y' up." Michel laughed under his breath at his brother's reaction as the two men walked through the door.

Logan sized the two men up, but said nothing. He merely shut the office door, and leaned against it with his arms crossed against his chest. he kept his eyes on the two men who were now, pawing at Remy with obvious lust.

Michel was watching Logan's nonchalant reaction as he cupped Remy's neck and kissed his lips. Logan didn't move or even flinch. He ran his tongue over Remy's still lips and then pushed it into his mouth. He was surprised Remy had kissed him back. After a moment, he pulled back and moved his hands to unbutton Remy's black silk shirt. Removing the shirt, his hands played across Remy's smooth chest and shoulders.

Standing behind Remy, Jaques reached around to unbutton Remy's pants and slide them down. The three had stood in the middle of the room, and both brothers kept a close eye on the man leaning against the door. Jaques examined the bruises on Remy's back and arms, kissing them gingerly. Moving a hand to undo his own pants, he whispered into Remy's ear, "Yo' lover gon' watch y' get dicks, Remy? How generous of him. Been long yea's since I had dis ass.

Remy stood completely still, and occasionally glanced over at Logan to make sure it was okay. He'd moaned and hissed a few times as the two men touched, and squeezed, licked, and stripped him. He gasped and snapped from Logan's eyes to watch Michel kneel in front of him and run his tongue along his growing erection. As much as he tried, he had only wanted Logan to please him.

Michel stopped and stood up again, his left hand pulled at the satin belt around his waist and let the robe fall open. His right hand had ben sliding, lazily, up and down Remy's length. "Dat feel nice, petit? Wan' Michel t' make y' squirm, chile?"

"Oui, cher." Remy closed his eyes and tilted his head back to rest on Jaques right shoulder. His voice went hoarse as he pleaded with himself not to get too aroused. His empathy reached out to feel Logan. He was relieved slightly, to know that Logan was quite turned on at the display, but didn't show it to anyone. Only wan' y', mon cher. Only need y'.

Michel smirked at his brother, over Remy's shoulder, and watched him jump and gasp as Jaques had wet his erection down before pushing himself into the tight opening. He reacted quickly, and captured Remy's open mouth in a long kiss. "Shh, chile. Jaques wan' t' fuck dis pretty ass, while Michel make y' come f'r y' lover. Mebbe, he join us, oui?" He whispered inbetween deep kisses. Michel moaned when Remy's hand closed around his own, around Remy's length.

As the paces grew faster, and more rigid, Jaques pushed his brother away from the boy, and forced Remy down onto his hands and knees. Kneeling beside him, he had started to thrust even harder into Remy's tight opening. He started talking to the boy in french. Asking him how he liked the roughness, and if he got off for his lover. Jaques pulled Remy's long auburn locks when he didn't get any response.

Michel had come to stand in front of Logan and smirked to himself as his had moved close enough to kiss the other man's lips. In fact, he did just that. "Y' like de boy's position, cher? De boy belong on his knees, letting a dick fill him. He wan' y' t' come join, mon ami. So ready, non?" Michel kissed him again and chuckled as Logan's hands were on his arms, pushing him away.

Remy watched the exchange, and then focused on Michel as he came back to kneel in front of Remy and place his neglected erection against Remy's lips. Accepting it, he sucked Michel in a slow, lasting rhythm. He could feel Jaques kneeling behind him and thrusting tiredly into him. He could also feel the pulsing release, as Jaques grabbed the boy's slender hips and pulled him back to meet his own hips.

"Ah, Remy so good, Logan. He like fine wine, hey? De way he savours de come, an' get so ready in de ass." Michel looked at Logan, briefly, before turning his attention to the young man looking up at him. "Y' wan' t' ride ol Michel, boy?" He smiled as the boy nodded. "Good. Come, chile, we let Jaques take a res', no?" Michel looked up at his brother and motioned for him to pull out and relax while he moved Remy over to the sofa.

Remy gently pushed Michel back to sit on the sofa, before bracing his hands on the high back, behind Michel, and lowering himself down onto the slick manhood. He gasped, loudly, as he moved up and down frantically over Michel's erection. He had closed his eyes and let himself be completely enveloped in the passion that he had lost his hold on his powers, and absently charged the antique sofa. His charge grew more stronger as Michel climaxed into him. Pulling away from the exhausted Michel, he released the sofa and stepped back to watched it burst into a controlled explosion.

Logan made his move from his position to sink his six outstretched claws into mutely shocked Jaques. "Get dressed." He barked the command and promptly left the room to search out the rest of the guards in the house.



PART 6

Logan stood at the end of the bed, watching the sleeping boy. He stood in the guest room that Monique had made up for Remy. His eyes moved over Remy's peaceful face, and he recalled the actions the boy had displayed just a few short hours prior. Logan had been in near shock as he had waited in the car, with the motor running, and watched as Remy pressed both of his hands to the closed front door of the house, and charged it. The kid had been in such deep concentration to charge the entire house, and postpone it's destruction, and Logan had never seen the kid so determined. His brow furrowed in thought. What did Michel have on this kid to make Remy hate him so much? When they drove away, he had been watching Remy at every chance he had. Taking in how the kid just sat there, quietly, and stared out the window. The only time he saw the kid move, was when the sudden explosion behind them finally errupted. Even then, the kid barely flinched. A mile back, the house was engulfed in flames and smoke. Had the kid cared at all? Was he watching it through the side mirror?

The boy shifted in his sleep. He lay on his right side, an arm curled under the fluffy pillow, while the other lay draped over the thick blanket that had been folded over above his slim waist. His hair lay in a loose puddle on the pillow, behind him. Remy was naked, and clean. He had wanted to take a bath when they had gotten home. No other movement, but up the stairs and into the bathroom. He hadn't acknowledged Logan at all. Perhaps he figured Logan was disgusted by him, again. Perhaps that was why the kid finished his bath and dried himself, before sulking his way to the bedroom, down the hall from his own. He sighed, softly.

Logan moved around to the other side of the bed, and eased himself up to lay behind Remy. Sliding himself under the covers, he kept his eyes on Remy. The boy didn't move as he traced his fingers lightly down the limp arm, over the recent bruises he had given him. His hand trailed back up, and lightly ran the fingertips over the pale cheek. Logan inhaled. Feeling the boy's skin again, he was hot, near sweating. Gently lifting the covers back so that the kid could cool off, Logan propped himself up on his right hand, and let the other glide over Remy's exposed left leg. Moving his hand down, his fingers ran over the soft mounds of Remy's tight bottom. Tracing the tender crack, he pulled away and brought the hand to his mouth to suck on his own middle finger. Replacing it at the crack, he lightly spread the skin and brushed his finger against the tight opening.

Remy gasped, slightly, but remained asleep.

Logan nudged the finger into the tightness. Again, he watched Remy's reaction. Stillness, and breathing. He twitched a smile and pushed the finger in more. Hearing Remy moan, his eyes traveled down to Remy's growing erection. The boy's breath was near ragged as he started a slow, sensual rhythm with the finger.

The thin leg twitched, and moved, as Remy bent it and then rolled onto his back. His eyes remained closed, but he had been aware someone was with him. His hips spasmed back onto the finger, and he moaned again.

"That feel good?" Logan asked in a whisper.

"Mm-hmm." Remy breathed and nodded.

"Good. Tell me your dream, Remy. What's this finger doin to ya?" Keeping his voice as a whisper, Logan held the rhythm as he pushed deeper into the warmth.

Remy moaned again, and parted his lips to sigh. "Tres bien, cher. Dat feels s' good." His voice was slightly hoarse, and he moved his right hand to slowly stroke his own length.

"Tell me. What's it doin to you?" Logan watched Remy's hand stroke himself, and smiled. The boy was being pleasured, while sleeping. He could feel his own length start to rise in his pants.

Remy moaned and shifted, again. "Mon cher, he make love t' me. He kiss me, an' tell me eve't'ing all right. Mm. He c'me soon, oui. Anhh." Remy tensed and pulled himself a bit harder.

"What else, Rem? What does he want you to do?"

He bit his bottom lip and answered. "He wan' me t' c'me f'r him. He say I c'me nice f'r him. An' dat, Remy a good boy. Mmm." He paused and gasped again. "I wan' t' c'me. But, he strange now. Mean." Remy kept his eyes closed and whimpered, softly. He pushed himself back onto the finger that had become slightly faster, and more forceful. "He hit Remy so har', s'metime." Remy gasped and continued to pull himself in time with Logan's movements.

Logan thought for a minute. "Do you love him?"

Remy smiled at the question. "Oui. Oh, mais oui. Wan' t' be wit' him, always." He panted as his hand jerked firmly on the throbbing erection.

Knowing the young man was near orgasm, Logan tensed and asked him, "Does he love you?"

Stopping and whimpering, Remy's smile faded and his brow furrowed into shame. "Non." Taking a ragged breath, he wiped at his tears with his free hand. "Remy jus' a stupid whore. Try t' please him. B-b-but, he tell Remy de same t'ing. Unh, mmm....." Remy gasped as Logan pushed his finger in deeper while keeping the slow rhythm.

"You like the way he feels in ya?"

"Oui. Remy wan' t' be wit' him, f'r always. Mm. He feel s' good, inside Remy."

"Yea? He's a good fuck?"

"Mm, oui, cher. Remy d' an't'ing f'r him. Need him in me." Remy smiled again, and resumed stroking himself in slow, easy strokes.

"You wish this finger was a dick, comin inside ya?"

Remy's heartbeat sped up, and he began to pull himself with more force. "Mmm. Oui but..... non. Have t' be good f'r him. Mm. He- he like Remy t' b' good f'r him. Ah." Remy gasped, again. A firm tug on his manhood and raising his hips up, off the bed, told the other man he was almost ready to release.

Logan watched as Remy calmed down, and rest his hips back onto the bed, stopping his own ministrations. "I bet yer really needin a fuck, aren't ya? Maybe just a quick one? Hm?"

"Oui. B-b-but, he home soon. Need t' b' good, non? Mmm. Ahh..... He try." Remy tried to ease Logan's probing finger out of him, but sighed in frustration at the hand that had blanketed his own on his length, while pushing the digit further into him.

Logan smiled and began stroking the boy's erection. "I bet he won't mind if you come for me. Will he? You said he likes it when you come for him, huh? You wanna be a good whore for just him?"

Remy panted and gasped as the hand and finger moved in rhythm with each other. "Non. Please, stop..... Please? Wan' t' b' good f'r mon amour. Don'-- ah.....ahh.... mmm. Please, m'sieur, stop?? Only he say Remy come, oui?" Remy grabbed at the hand and tried his best to push it away, but with no luck. Whimpering, and sobbing, Remy gave up and let the rhythms continue.

"What's his name, this guy who don't love ya, but also won't let anyone else have this gorgeous body?" Logan smirked and moved a bit faster. The kid was so very close, and he could tell, Remy was holding back. Or, trying to.

"Mmm- L-L-Logan. Je t'aime, mon cher. Je t'aime, Logan." Remy panted.

"And, you only want to come for him?"

"Oui. Only Logan. Remy be an't'ing Logan wan'." Remy sighed. "Even if dat mean he jus' a whore, t' Logan."

"Wasn't there someone else?"

"Oui. Dere was. Sh' dead, now...... Annhh!" The young body spasmed and then settled.

"Mm. I bet he likes ta lick it off ya. Since yer just a whore, I don't think he'd mind me tastin ya, right? Make sure yer good and ready for him to fuck ya, huh?" Logan removed the finger and used that hand to move Remy's left hand to his zipper and help him lower it. "Shhh. He won't have to know. I'll just get ya ready for him, huh?"

Remy started pulling away from him. "Non, non, non, non, non, non, please?" He pleaded and sobbed. "Remy wan' t' be good. Logan say, he only sleep wit' people he trus' an' love. Wan' him t' love Remy, cher. Let Remy be, non?" Crying out as he spasmed and lifted his hips, he came onto his firm stomach and chest.

"Just a whore, kid? That's all? A whore?" Logan stared down at the boy, as he had opened his eyes and took in the scene. He watched as Remy rolled back onto his right side, and curled into a ball, sobbing.

"Oui, cher. Remy jus' a whore. Please, y' let him sleep, now?"

***************************

Remy hurried through the dark streets and alleyways. He looked up, through the raindrops, and found his target. The sleeping bundle in his arms shivered and twitched.

The tall, steepled building came into full view, as Remy ran through puddles and across empty streets. The huge stone walls and steps seemed to stand out from the other buildings on the block. Saint Maragarite was enormous, and clean, despite the rain.

He ran up the fifteen steps and clutched the baby as he pounded on the large door with his free hand. Pounding a few times every few seconds, he listened closely, and looked around for spying eyes in the shadows. An older Priest, who had been up late, had opened the door and gave Remy a glance. Remy's eyes darted around him again, and he quickly slid into the huge cathedral.

"Merci, Father. Desole de hour is late, but I need yo' help." His voice was frantic, yet soft enough as to not wake the bundled child.

The priest looked at Remy's bundled arms, and ushered him more inside. They sat down in the last pew on the left, and talked quietly. "What is the trouble, my son?"

Remy hushed a sob in his already panting throat. "Sil vouz plait, Father, I come see y' f'r de chile's life. M' wife, she die while ago, an' I can' take care of de boy. He all Remy has, but if he stay wit' me, somet'in happen t' him, non? Y' give him good home? His name is Malicoire LeBeau." Remy looked from the concerned priest to the stirring boy in his arms. He was shaking, and tears streamed down his face. "Desole, Mali. Yo' pere love y', chile. Fo'give Remy." Handing the baby to the priest, he quietly slipped from the church as the priest gazed down at the baby.

Running all the way home, and bursting through the door, soaking wet, Remy panted and noticed the three figures lounging in his livingroom. He straightened from his hunched over position and quieted his breaths. The small reading lamps to either side of the plush sofa illuminated the room in a nearly too dim light.

Michel was seated in the middle of the sofa, and the other two figures had stood up and came to stand in front of him. "Where's de chile, Remy?" The man sat, reading a book he had gotten from Remy's collection. He hadn't bothered looking up from the pages he was aimlessly glancing at.

"Safe from you." Remy eyed the two well-dressed, and no doubt, heavily armed guards that took their positions on either side of him.

The older man sighed, and motioned for the guard to the left of Remy to smack him. He watched as the guard nodded and backhanded Remy, sending him sprawling into the arms of the guard on the other side of him. "Don' y' know, boy, no one is safe from me. But, dat's alright. Y' gonn' be a good boy an' warm my bed, when y' no' workin." Michel closed the book and tossed it onto the cushion beside him. Standing up, he nodded again to his guards to hold Remy as he balled a fist as connected it with the soft planes of Remy's stomach.

Coughing and choking for air, Remy remained silent and unbroken by the birage of punches and verbal abuse. He had been punched at least a dozen or so times, and smacked at least twice. Words were spat at him, yet he didn't move or whimper. The two behemouths of guards who were holding him, scoffed at him and pushed him into Michel's rough embraces.

Michel stopped. Cupping the boy's chin, and wiping his thumb across the trickle of blood on the smooth lip, he told his guards to do with the boy what they pleased, but not to be too rough. The older man bent down to run his tongue over Remy's trembling lips before going back to sit on the sofa, and watch the show.

When the two were finished, they stood up and fixed their suits, each kicking at the nearly unconscious boy who had curled himself into a ball on the floor. They had discarded his wet clothes, and covered him in bruises and semen, and blood.

Finally, Michel spoke to him. "C'mere chile."

Remy trembled, but rolled over to crawl to Michel's feet. He sat there and stared up, past Michel's knees, at the man who was sneering down at him. Flinching as Michel pet his hair and leaned forward to whisper into his ear, he whimpered. "Desole, Michel. Desole. Please, don' hur' him, n'more.

Michel stood up and looked down on the kneeling boy. "Come, chile. Michel's gonn' show y' jus' wha' he mean, when he say no' t' piss him off." His tone was caught between harshness and near parental. Not bothering to wait for Remy to climb to his feet, he headed out, into the entranceway, and up the stairs. Michel stopped at the top of the stairs, to watch Remy climb the marble steps, and shiver with each footfall on the cold surface.

Following Michel into his bedroom, the door was shut behind him and soon after, he was treated to multiple rapings and more harsh beatings.

Nearly two long hours later, Michel was dressed and fixing his tie while staring at the spent and curled body of Remy. The boy had passed out shortly before Michel stopped. "Don' cross me again, chile. Dis was a wa'ning."

************************

The next morning, Logan sat at the far end of the huge oak dining table, reading the morning paper. He looked up as Remy had turned the corner and walked, with his head bowed, to the kitchen.

Remy was dressed in the clothes Logan had picked out for him, and set on the end of the bed. As he came to the kitchen door, he paused and stared at the door. Opening his mouth to say something, he promptly closed it and then pushed himself through the door. Rummaging around in the cupboards for something to eat, he came across a container of Ritz Crackers® and helped himself to a handful. Quickly eating three, he made his way back to the dining room.

Logan had gone back to reading his paper, but stopped as Remy quietly sat down at the other end. He watched as Remy ate the crackers, in silence, and stared at the table in front of him. "There's an article in here about the 'de Corte' mystery. Says they're gonna start talkin to people." Logan skimmed the article and then looked up to where Remy had froze in his actions. He cleared his throat in order to make Remy snap out of his dazed state.

Remy continued eating in silence. When he had finished, he stood up and slid his chair back. He walked around behind it, and pushed it in. He kept his eyes on the floor as he made his way back to the entrance way.

"Hey!" Logan called.

Remy stopped, but didn't turn around.

"What's with the silent treatment?" Logan tossed the paper onto the table and stood up.

Remy shrugged.

"Answer me!" Logan was near furious.

Remy jumped as Logan came to stand in front of him, demanding attention. He remained silent at the continued disapproving barks. Finally, he was held by the arm and backhanded. Remy sighed and said in a calm tone, under his breath, "Jus' a whore, cher."

"That aint what's eatin ya, and we both know it." Backhanding Remy again, he said more firmly. "Answer me!"

"D' y' love me, Logan?" Remy cringed and flinched away from Logan, ready for another hit.

Logan's eyes narrowed. "You tell me. You're the empath."

Remy lowered his gaze, again. "It don' always work like dat, cher."

A low growl hissed its way between them as Logan tossed Remy into the wall, and then headed back to the table. Logan looked up from the paper, again, to see Remy stand up and start to remove his clothing. "And, what's this for? You thinkin you can change my mind?"

"Non, cher. Jus' t'ink y' migh' wan' y' clothes back, oui?" Remy sighed as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "My clothes? Kid, yer brains been fucked outta ya too many times. Those came from your dresser." He scoffed and watched Remy strip completely. Even though Remy hadn't been facing him, he knew the young man was picking up on his arousal. He also knew, this was exactly what Remy had wanted to happen. He sniffed. The air was perfumed with Remy's need. He tossed the paper to the floor, beside him and growled for the kid to go to him. The boy merely flinched and stayed still. "I said, come here." He grinned as he was obeyed.

The trembling young man came to stand directly in front of him.

"Sex all you think about? Or are you just that dumb?"

"Remy not dumb, cher. Dat's all he know, an'more." He hesitated as he said it. Barely having the time to glance up at Logan, he was shoved, gruffly, back onto the table and squirming under the harsh hands on him. A firm hand pulled at his tender manhood, while the other came to grip his throat. He gasped and tried to catch his breath as the warm mouth was now working on his erection, and the hand on his throat massaged him, roughly.

Logan sucked and rubbed and growled at Remy. He knew Remy was on the verge of coming, so he stopped and pulled away from him. He looked up to see Remy staring at the ceiling, and wincing as he tried to control his release. Logan smiled and went back to working the boy into a frenzy. Stepping back, to watch as Remy came, uncontrollably, he scoffed and cleared his throat.

Remy lay still. He shook and whimpered.

"Clean this mess up, and get dressed." Logan growled before walking out of the room.

*******************

At 10 AM, the doorbell rang. Remy had just come down stairs from getting dressed, again, and answered it. He was shocked to see a single detective standing on the porch.

The man was in his mid thirties, with sandy-brown hair and hazel eyes. He was about Remy's height, and build. The only differences were of small and obscure detail. A tan raincoat hung from the man, and mainly covered his white shirt. His slightly darker tan slacks were rolled at the bottoms, exposing his black socks and shiny black shoes. "Mr. LeBeau? I'm Detective Roberts. I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding a Michael de Corte?"

"Michel." Remy sighed and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

"Right. Anyway, I understand from various people that you and Mister de Corte were more than just casual acquaintances. I'd like to ask you a few questions. We can do it here, or I can take you down town." Roberts' gaze followed Remy over to the porch steps as the boy sat down on the top step. He joined the young man, and retrieved a small pad of paper and a pen from his left coat pocket.

After a long silence, Remy started to shift uncomfortably.

"How long have you known the De Corte family?" The detective asked, eyeing Remy, suspiciously.

"Too long, cher." Remy sighed.

Roberts squinted. He wasn't sure if he'd accept that answer, but he noted it and continued. "I understand you are....." He cleared his throat before finishing. "homosexual. Did you and Mr. De Corte have a torrid love affair, and that prompted you to perhaps get even?"

Remy turned to glare at Roberts. "It wasn' like dat. Between Remy an' Michel, was jus bus'ness."

"If that were the case, you'd be in prison with a boyfriend. But, since I also understand you are an escort, I bet you'll fit right in." Roberts smirked at his own statement. The smirk was replaced by surprise as Remy smiled back at him.

"Cher, Michel lived in an ol' house, oui? Mebbe de pipes broke, an' de house go poof, non?" Remy stood up and focused on the police car in his driveway.

"Right. Well, if you know of anything, here's my card." The detective stood up and handed Remy a small business card with his name and number on it. He told Remy goodbye before walking down the steps and telling the uniformed officer they could go to the next person.

Logan stood in the doorway. "Always the charmer, eh, kid?" He scoffed.

Remy jumped and turned around to look at him. He sighed and walked over to the older man. He was swatted away as he reached out to embrace Logan. Lowering his gaze, he walked past the man and back upstairs to the guest room he was using for a bedroom.

*********************

A month passed, and for a month, the police hounded and slandered Remy, about Michel, and Jaques. And also about the mysterious explosion. He had even been in jail for a few days due to possible charges, but were dropped due to lack of evidence. Not once had Logan come to his rescue. Not once had Logan even bothered to acknowledge him at all.

A few days into the second month, Remy had slipped into bed with Logan, and huddled the edge of his usual side of the bed. He knew Logan picked up on his scent long before he had slipped into the room. He hadn't moved or made a sound to emphasize on his presence, he was just lonely and felt he needed to be near to someone, anyone.

"Nightmares again, kid?" Logan spoke as he rolled over and opened his eyes to stare at Remy's bare back.

"Oui. An' a bit lonely." Remy breathed.

Logan snorted. "You wet the bed, yer scrubbin it."

"Kay." Remy's voice cracked a bit, and he wished Logan would let him touch him. Or at the very least, be closer to him. Letting himself be taken by his dreams, he was still awake enough to be aware of the other man sleeping next to him. After awhile, he had forgotten about Logan, and let himself relax into slumber. He felt his body jerk slightly, and he sat up in a start. Looking over to where Logan was, he found no trace of the man.

Logan stood at the end of the bed, smoking a cigar and watching Remy. He'd been standing there for about five minutes, watching him, as he tossed and turned and whimpered in his sleep.

Remy flushed and his cheeks burned with red. He sighed as Logan's hard eyes stared at him, burning a hole through him. "Sorry, mon cher. Remy go sleep downstairs." Hanging his head, he slid out of bed and quietly exited the room. He made his way, slowly, down the dark stairs, and into the livingroom. The only bit of clothing covering his thin body were his light grey boxers, but he didn't care. Curling up on the sofa, he whimpered and sobbed himself back to sleep.

A little while later, Logan was looming over him with a thick blanket. Tucking Remy in, he stood back and watched the boy sleep for awhile. How soundly he could sleep, even when he was being backed into an ever shrinking corner. Logan suddenly had a gnawing thirst, and left the room to find the Vodka.

The boy had started to shake and moan in his sleep. His sobs rose above the ticking of the grandfather clock, in the entranceway. They became so annoyingly loud to Logan, he heard them in every breath he took. Finally, he got up and stumbled from the dining room, back into the livingroom and leaned in to shake Remy. What was meant as a shake, came to be a hard slap to the boy's already bruised right forearm. He was dully surprised that the boy jumped at the touch. Staring down, into Remy's eyes, he snorted and backstepped lazily, and found himself sitting on the floor. Cursing aloud as he spilled some of the contents to the near empty bottle, Logan was amazed to find Remy kneeling beside him with a towel and cleaning up the spill.

"God damn it, boy!"

"Desole, Logan. Remy didn' mean it."

"Bad enough yer cryin, now yer spillin things on the floor."

"Sorry, Logan. Please f'give?" Remy flinched away as Logan swatted him for an unknown reason.

***********************

The next morning, Remy woke to find himself fully under the thick blanket, in the livingroom. He sat up and stretched. Yawning, he called out for Logan. "Logan? Mon cher, y' here?" He jumped when another voice answered him.

"No, m'sieur. He lef' hours ago." The voice was female and familiar.

He sighed and turned to see Monique polishing the wooden bannister in the entranceway. Sighing again, he picked himself up off the floor and headed upstairs to his room. He had forgotten about the blanket, and wearing only his boxers. He had also temporarily blocked out Monique, standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching him.

Monique followed Remy upstairs and into his bedroom to get dressed. "I see monsieur been drunk, again. Chile, y' need a good woman t' take care of y'. Why don' y' go out on de town, an' relax, non? Logan say he come back later."

"Non. Monique, how c'n Remy go out like dis, eh? He look horrible." Remy sat down on the bed and laid the clean clothes beside him. Covering his face with his hands, he rested his elbows on his knees and sighed.

She came over to him and knelt down, in front of him. "Listen chile, Y' famile, dey all gone, oui. I know, it hur' t' find a new beau, an' have it turn out tres mal. But, m'sieur, y' are no' happy an'more. Michel an' Jaques, dey were wort'less. Logan, well..... he get y' 'way from dem, but cher, he do de same t'ing as Michel. I bet, y' fine y'self a nice m'd'mselle, an' y' have a nice time."

Remy shrugged.

"Come chile, we get y' cleaned up, den y' go out on de town. Y' such a han'some boy, Remy. Perhaps, y' fine someone nice t' talk t', no?" She took his hands away from his face and wiped his tears away. Holding onto his hand, she helped him up and walked with him to the bathroom for a hot bath.

She ran the bath water, and got him clean and dressed nicely. She dried his hair and brushed it, as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

As Remy walked down the stairs, his mind told him that he had heard a car door slam shut. Turning around, immediately, he ran smack into Monique. "Non, Monique, I can'. Logan, he kill Remy if he leave."

"Sshhhh, sshhhh, chile." Monique soothed. "I'm no' tellin y' t' run away. Jus' step out an' have a time, cher. Y' deserve it. I tell monsieur y' be back soon, oui?"

Remy nodded and turned around to finish heading down the rest of the stairs.

"Bien. Go. I take care o' him, chile."

Remy was shooed out of the front door, and found a taxicab was waiting for him. He climbed into the backseat and told the driver a club, and breathed uneasily as they headed for their destination. His eyes darted from forwards to backwards views to see if Logan had found out he had left the house without permission. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, he hadn't found the drunk older man, anywhere in sight.

*****************************

As he walked into the almost full illegal club and casino, Remy looked around and exhaled in relief that there was no one there to remotely resemble Logan. Not that he didn't want the older man's company, but he found he could relax if he didn't have to keep within eye contact.

He had sat down at the long, and brightly lit, bar and ordered a drink. He looked around and smiled to himself at how well he had held together, in public. Downing the first, he ordered another and casually made his way to the poker tables. He sat down and joined in, winning which hands he wanted and leaving before he was evicted. Several of the gents had seemed friendly to him, and he was beginning to feel comfortable in the once familiar settings. Remy introduced himself, but reminded himself of his own given short time to spend. After the tenth round of poker, he bid his tablemates goodbye, and headed for the door.

Remy walked outside and hailed a taxicab. The street was seemingly busy and it was becoming early evening. As he stepped back onto the curb, from the roadway, he had backed up into a pretty young lady who had also been hailing a taxi. "Je suis desole, m'dam'selle. I didn' see y'." Turning quickly, he happened to come face to face with the lovely lady. Her brown eyes and brown hair had caught him by surprise.

Forgetting about the taxis, they had started talking and walking down the street. He had asked if she was hungry, and she replied she was.

She introduced herself and told him she was new in town and wasn't sure what was the best food places in town. The girl smiled as Remy showed her about and then opened the door to a fancy cafe.

After an hour of talking, Remy had learned she was slightly younger than him, about a year. She had just moved from New Orleans, and was feeling somewhat homesick. Remy smiled and told her about himself, and being from New Orleans, also. He had started asking her about home and what had changed since he had been away. It was slowly making him feel better that he was able to make someone smile and laugh with him, not at him.

When food was served, they were still deeply invested in conversations and were surprised to see food come and be eaten so quickly. Remy snatched up the bill and excused himself from the table to pay it. He was confused and a bit relieved to find out that the owner refused to accept his money for the meals, but instead told Remy to have a nice night.

As they hailed taxis again, he had invited her to his house the next evening to meet Logan, and have dinner. He was delighted that she had accepted and then hurried into her cab.

Remy caught his own and smiled to himself at the plans, on the way home. His happiness soon changed to fear as the taxi pulled up to the gate. The dining room light was on, and he was almost positive that Logan was sitting at the table, drinking.

He paid the driver, and headed for the gate. He opened the gate and slid through before making his way up the drive. His muscles tensed as he took each step closer to the front door. Remy's eyes went wide and he backstepped as the front door flew open and Logan was standing before him. He was being pulled into the house, by his arms, and thrown into the stairs.

"....And just where the Hell were you?"

Remy took a moment to regain himself before answering. "Was in town, Logan. Met a girl dere. Sh' c'me by t'morrow an' y' meet her, oui? Sh' from N'awlins, aussi. Dat okay, cher? Remy invite de fille t' dinner, cher?" His voice shook as he huddled against the marble steps.

Logan sighed and dropped his anger, momentarily. "Yeah." He had looked away from Remy, and returned the gaze as Remy picked himself up off the stairs and came closer to him.

"Y' sobre, Logan?"

"Yep. Got that way from waitin on you."

Remy sighed, now. He looked to the dining room table, and then back to Logan, in thought. "Y' eat, yet, Logan? I make y' somet'ing, no? Den Remy tell y' all about ma petite amie?" Reaching for Logan's arm, he was amazed to find out that Logan let him touch him.

As Logan ate his meal, he and Remy talked about the girl and how Remy spent the day.

***********************

Remy woke the next morning, and found himself alone, in their bed. Logan wasn't in the mood for sex, but at least he let the kid lay beside him, during the night. It felt so good to be by his side, again. Knowing the older man was there, in the same room, and he had offered to let the kid stay there.

Remy sat up, throwing the covers off his naked body, he made his way to the dresser and pulled out clothes to wear for the day. Hurrying to the bathroom, he started the bathwater, and adjusted the temperature. He took his bath, and then dressed himself in a nice dark gray suit, and then dried and combed his long auburn locks.

His day was spent touching up the house, and thinking of what to cook for his guest. Checking the time every hour or so, Remy scurried about the house and looked out the window for signs of either Logan or the girl. He had hoped Logan remembered they were having a guest, and would be kind enough to either be sobre, or if he was drunk; not come home. Then again, that poised a problem. How was he going to explain that he lived with another, and much older man to someone he had just barely gotten to know? He took a deep sigh and hoped he wouldn't have to explain in such a detailed manner.

A few hours later, it was coming into 6 PM. A car pulled up to the gate, and Remy ran outside to greet his guest. Hurrying down the steps, and across the graveled driveway. As he reached the gate, he smiled at the girl, who was standing there waiting for him. Opening the huge rought-iron, he welcomed her and led her back to the house.

Remy showed her around, before they settled into the livingroom for coffee. They had already decided to eat, and then make slow conversation as they waited for Logan to come home. Remy did his best to cover his darkened skin, that had slipped out from his clothing. Praying that she didn't notice, he was careful not to make any fast movements.

"Didn' y' say dere was someone else here?" The girl asked, sipping at her coffee.

Blushing a bit, and sighing, he glanced out the lace curtained windows, and then back to her. "Oui, chere. But, Logan is.... well, he a very busy man."

"Oh. He y' pere?"

"Mm, somet'in like dat. He take Remy in an'--" He was silenced as her lips eased themselves against his. Letting a moan escape, Remy felt her hand brush against his shirt buttons. He caught her wrist and held her, gently. "Non, chere, I can'. Sorry."

"Sorry. Guess I jus' been 'lone so long, I f'rget."

"Non, don' be sorry, girl." Smiling at her, and then lowering his gaze to her captured hand. He paused. "Remy lonely, aussi. Been long time since he feel a woman's touch." He looked up just in time to see her lean in for another kiss. He knew he should have stopped it, but he hadn't wanted to.

As the girl became more brave, she slid off the sofa and came to kneel in front of Remy. She stared up at him, and shakily started unbuttoning his pants. Sliding the zipper down, she smiled as he hadn't been wearing any boxers. The girl settled herself in between his legs and started toying with his stiff manhood. Rolling it in her fingers and stroking it's long length. Cautiously, she dipped her head down and licked at the tip.

Remy moaned and leaned back, into the sofa. He had needed someone to touch him, for so long. He had wanted it to be Logan, but since Logan was otherwise occupied with his illegal fix on booze, it seemed that she was doing her best to make up for his loss. Remy was shocked to find out that she knew what she was doing, and he was rather liking being the john than the administrator.

They had eventually given in to lust, and quickly obliged each other in pleasure. Before long, they had fixed their clothings and replaced themselves back onto the sofa. He had hung his head as he felt her shock and horror at the bruises that she had been able to see. But, she only reassured him and kissed his cheeks.

They had started up a conversation and lightly flirted with each other about their previous engagement. Laughing and toying with clothing, they hadn't noticed the front door open and close with a slam. Nor had they noticed the snarling man in the doorway of the livingroom, until she gasped and sat up.

The girl screamed and forced Remy to look at what had caught her attention. She had begun fixing her blouse and backing up as the man came closer.

Remy stood up and tried to comfort her. He was in between the frightened girl and Logan, before he was gruffly tossed aside by the older man and watched as Logan chased the girl around.

Dodging the attacks and angry swipes, the girl managed to run out of the house in a panic. Logan smirked at her leaving.

Logan had turned his attention to a far corner, to where a petrified Remy had been huddled. Making his way over to the boy, Remy had begun to babble in french. Releasing his claws, he dragged Remy out of the corner and holding him up to look at him. Cursing and threatening Remy, he hissed. "What in the Hell was she doing here? HUH?! Did you fuck her, too?" His eyes narrowed as he stared into Remy's eyes and inhaled the sopping wet fear scent, from the boy. He growled again, and shook Remy furiously. Inhaling deeply, he narrowed his eyes. "You did, didn't ya? Was she good?"

Remy's breathing was erratic and he was shaking violently. "Non cher! We jus' talk."

Logan shook him even more. "Was she good, boy?" He asked in an almost mad fashion.

Panting, Remy whimpered and answered. "Logan, please! Remy didn' fuck nobody!" Nervous gasps escaped him and he flinched in waiting on Logan's next move.

"Did ya use yer tricks on her, too?" Logan spat, sarcastically.

Remy shook his head. "Logan, we waitin' fo' you. She new in town." Remy eyed the 6 claws as he was lifted up off the floor and held there, by the shirt. He was visibly shaking now. His heart pounded noisily in his chest. He was feeling quite sick and light-headed as he stared down at the 6 points of claws. Remy's hands reached up to grip Logan's wrists and try to work himself free. It was no use. He was trembling so badly, he felt as if he were standing in an earthquake that registered off the scale. He whimpered again and forced himself to be quiet as he stared into Logan's eyes and choked a hard swallow. He'd managed to quiet his voice, and stop the trembles but not well enough. Convulsions started. He pleaded with himself to calm down, and closed his eyes to help himself relax. Remy gasped outloud as a warm, wet feeling ran down his leg in a narrow trickle. His face had turned a darker red and he gulped at the air in shame. This set Logan through the roof. Remy's mind was burning and his head pounded as he was forced to feel Logan's rage. He was taken by surprise as Logan dropped him and pushed him back against the floor.

Logan had begun putting his claws to use. Shreading Remy's clothing and reveling in the sight of Remy trying to cover his face with his arms, and staring at Logan as if he were lost in a nightmare. When he was finished he sheathed his claws and grabbed Remy's arms and pulled him to his feet. He growled as Remy hadn't been able to stand right away, due to shaking so badly. "Pissin yerself on my rug? Do ya need me ta clean ya up, too?" With a grunt, Logan pulled Remy into the entranceway and up the stairs to the bathroom. The boy had protested but Logan held firm to him. They struggled, and again Logan won out with a growl and forced Remy into the tub and moved to cork it. Starting the water, he made sure it was nice and hot. In his drunkeness, he hadn't realised that although it was comfortable to him, it was next to lava for the boy.

Remy's voice was screaming into Logan's ringing ears. The young man was begging and pleading with him to let him out. Afraid he would be burnt, or held under the boiling water until he couldn't breathe. But, he was being forced to sit there, and be washed? Logan picked up a brush and soap and had started scrubbing him to the point Remy thought he'd be skinned to the bone. Now the man took the pitcher of equal temperatured water, and dumped it over Remy's head. Each hot drop was making him scream in pain as if it were acid and not water. Harsh hands were working at his hair. Pulling his auburn locks as they were being washed, and then drenched at the water, again.

Reaching into the water, Logan was taken back at how hot the water actually was. He snorted and continued reaching for the plug to let the water out. Keeping his hand on Remy's left wrist, he turned back to see only fear and shame in the boy's strange eyes. A growl in his throat gave him the permission to lift the boy out of the tub and reach for a towel that had been hanging on the wall, beside the toilet. Forcing it onto the boy's naked, wet, and very red body, Logan stepped back and sat down on the toiletseat lid. "Don't stand there shaking, dry yer damn self, boy."

Gingerly patting himself down, and not being able to control his sobs, Remy eyed Logan from the middle of the room. What was next, he wondered? Standing up again, Remy held the towel in front of him, and watched as Logan stood up to inspect him. Admiring his rage's handywork? That was a first. Remy froze as Logan walked completely around him and stopping as they came face to face, again.

"How long she been here?" Logan was forcing himself to keep his rage to himself. He wasn't so angry with the kid anymore. It was more that he was angry with himself for being so uncaring towards the boy.

Remy blinked and shuttered. "In town? Two weeks. Met 'er yes'erday."

Logan was slowly calming down. "Did you fuck her?" He knew the kid had to answer, in truth. But, he wouldn't blame the kid for a half detailed answer, this time.

"Oui." Remy hung his head and lowered his gaze to the floor, in shame. His body burned and hurt.

"Where?"

"On de floor. In de livingroom." Remy froze again. Another slap? Or would Logan use his claws, this time?

"Did you like it?" Logan was not so much curious, as he was needing to hear the answer. He wanted to know the boy could move on from what he was thinking of doing.

"Oui." Remy nodded and kept his gaze on the floor.

Logan was gentle now. Easing the towel out of Remy's hands, he used it to cover the boy's shoulders, like a cape, and then promptly left the room. He was aware that Remy was now following him, cautiously. He walked into their bedroom and around to his side of the bed. Pulling out a small brown suitcase, he placed it on the bed and opened it. Moving to his dresser and opening drawers to remove his clothing, he caught Remy standing in the doorway.

"Where y' goin', cher?" Remy dropped the towel and came into the room.

Logan stood at his dresser with a hand full of clothing. He couldn't bring himself to turn around and see the blistering boy, behind him. "I think it's best if we stay away from each other for awhile. We both need a rest." He kicked himself for saying it.

"Non. Remy don' wan' y' ta leave. Please cher, don' go? Remy be so good to you, mon cher. Remy never leave yo' side." Remy stood at the end of the bed, now. Dropping to his knees and clasping his hands together. He was sobbing and pleading for the man to stop packing.




PART 7

Logan heard every crack in Remy's voice. He could smell the salt in the tears, as well as almost tasting them. He'd just tried to boil the kid alive, and yet, the very same young man didn't want him to go? Soberiety was really setting in. "It ain't yer fault, kid. I just--" He closed his eyes and gave an inward sigh as he turned himself around. He opened his eyes and looked down at Remy. "I need to cool off. I can't do that around you. Wonderin if I'm gonna knock you through a wall or somethin. You need laughs, not tears. I know yer exhausted from tip-toein around me. So, I'm gonna go stay in the hotel for awhile."

Remy was shaking his head and reaching out to grasp Logan's right hand. "You come back soon, cher?" Looking up at the man who was obviously fighting back emotion upon emotion, Remy flinched with need. He hadn't moved from his knees, but held onto Logan all the more tightly.

Logan thought for a minute. "Yea" He smiled. "Come on, get off the floor. Put some lotion on so yer skin won't blister too bad." Logan held Remy's hand as the boy lifted himself from the floor and then sitting back down on the end of the bed. He reached into his top dresser drawer and pulled out a small bottle of lotion that stood in the front left corner, and handed it to Remy.

Remy looked at the bottle for a moment, and then accepted it. "You rub it on me, cher?" He leaned back to feel the coolness of Logan's suitcase on the small of his back.

Tossing the rest of his gathered clothes into the suitcase, closing the lid, and clasping it shut, Logan let his eyes roam over Remy's marred back before he answered. "Not this time, baby." He jumped slightly, as Remy turned to face him. "I uh-- I better get to town before it gets too dark." Leaning down to kiss Remy goodbye, and was immediately pulled into a deep embrace. A soft tongue met his, and wanted more of him. He moaned as the boy threw his arms around his shoulders and pulled him even closer. Logan knew he had to pull away, or he'd never be able to leave. Standing, he went back to his dresser
and rummaged around in the second to top drawer. Finally, he decided to toss the kid his red, long-sleeved button up shirt.

Snatching it up as the shirt fell onto his lap, Remy hurried to stand up and slip it on. Burying his nose in the inside collar, Remy reveled in Logan's scent. Red on black eyes blinked largely at Logan, as his shakey hands fumbled to button it up. The shirt had come down to barely cover his manhood, and he could tell Logan was liking the sight of him in Logan's shirt. In that instant, he was reminded of just why they were standing there. He walked over to his own dresser and opened the third drawer to retrieve a pair of neatly folded pants, and slipped them on. Remy bit his lip before tossing himself onto Logan. Drawing the man closer, they hugged, tightly.

Logan wrapped his arms around Remy. He had wanted to just hold the boy, for so long. Suddenly, in his half-drunk/half-sobre mind, he couldn't think of anything sexual, but to just hold him. The kid felt nice against him. He moaned into Remy's ear as the kid lightly bucked his hips against Logan, in an attempt to change his mind. "Kid, those charms of yours are gonna be the death of me. Or, possibly the both of us. But, damn, Rem. You feel so good."

The embrace ended as Remy pulled away from Logan. Hanging his head, he sat back down on the edge of the bed and spoke in a soft voice. "Logan, I-- I wan' t' 'xplain 'bout de charms. Remy don' have control over dem, dey control Remy, no? Y' see, when a chile grow up wit' charm, it no' easy. Petite fille or petit boy, dey nice lookin, eh? But, dat no' enough. Dey so pretty, y' have t' touch dem, tas'e dem, keep dem close. If de chile ready f'r it, he can protec' himself. But, if he not, bad t'ings can happen, an' dat chile, he don' know why dey happen. Remy control hisself bes' he can. But, no' easy. Wit' de girl," he paused and gulped in shame. "was only cause Remy lonely, cher. Y' brush Remy 'way when he try t' tell y' dat he sorry. Den, y' get upset at Remy when he go on wit' his day. Pourqoi, mon cher?" Finally, he looked up to meet Logan's hard gaze, and quickly looked away. "Logan, Remy wan' t' be good, f'r y'. Promise."

Logan bent down and turned Remy's head, by hooking a finger under his chin, to meet his gaze. "I know, kid. That's why I'm doin this."

"Y' still leavin?" Remy looked at him, startled.

Logan nodded. "I'll be back, though."

Sighing and letting Logan pull him to his feet, he took the brown bag in his hands and carried it as he followed Logan downstairs to call a taxi, and out the front door.

They walked to the gate in silence. Logan stopped only to light a cigar, and then continued. With his cigar in one hand, he reached for the suitcase with the other. Now standing at the gate, Logan took in Remy's face. The young man was so gorgeous, bathed in warm moonlight. Sliding the gate shut, Logan was caught by the arm and turned to see Remy staring at him through metal bars.

"Y' be back in two weeks, righ', Logan?" He nodded and asked.

Logan took a deep breath and rubbed his right thumb against Remy's right cheek. "Two weeks. Promise."

Remy was kissed on the lips, and then left to watch Logan turn from him and head down the street. "Je t'aime, Logan." It had been the only thing he could think of saying at the moment. He bowed his head and turned back to the house as he was ignored.

"Yea yea." Logan had mumbled. He stepped into the taxi and sat on it's cold leather seat. Not bothering to turn around to see the house disappear, he mused on if it was the right thing to do. And, if Remy would be ok, alone.

***********************

Remy locked the front door behind him, and headed up the stairs. Shutting off the lights on the way to his bedroom, he stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to stare at the front door. He was sure Logan would come through the door and up to bed, but he was proven wrong. Sighing, he made his way into the bedroom and over to his dresser. Opening the top drawer, Remy reached to the back to retrieve the hidden picture of his wife.

He stared at her and laid himself down, on the bed. Laying on his left side, Remy reached for Logan's pillow and turned it lengthwise against his body, while still staring at the picture. Yawning and laying his head on Logan's pillow, he closed his eyes and gave in to exhaustion.

"Mm, Remy... Y' look los', cher. Wha's de matter?" The woman's voice was cool and soft. She lie on her back, rubbing her delicate belly with her right hand, while reaching to cup his cheek with her left. Her long, blonde hair was kinked and fanned out on her pillow. Hazel eyes searched his expression as her red lips smiled at him. Dressed only in her nightshirt, her long and thin body was quickly bringing him back to the moment.

He lay on, what was now Logan's side of the bed, and rolled onto his right side. Elbow pushed into the pillow, Remy's right hand held his head up at his right temple. "Jus' t'inkin, mon amour. Hope de baby come soon, chere. Be a good pere, no? Have a family Remy can call his own." Remy placed his left hand on her stomach and smiled as he felt a nudge from inside.

She smiled. "De baby come, soon. An' you'd be a tres bien father. Perhaps, we have more dan one, oui?" She smiled. Her eyes were closing rapidly, and she yawned again. "Come here. De mommy wan' y', now."

Remy scooted closer to her, and rest his head on her shoulder as he rubbed, lazily, at her belly. He sighed and closed his eyes.

The next thing Remy knew, his wife was clawing at him, and gasping. She screamed for him to get the doctor, and that it was time for the baby. He jumped up from the bed and hurriedly slipped on his pants and shoes as he ran for the door. Checking the clock and not believing it was only 1 AM, he grabbed his car keys and raced out the door.

As he opened the car door and sat down, he blinked and found himself dressed in black. A tiny baby was crying in his arms, and he was staring down at a cold and grey gravestone in the cemetary. Countless people had all told him they were sorry for his loss, and their best wishes and offers of help were with him.

Michel was by his side, an arm curled around Remy's shoulders and pulled them close. Remy had rest his head on Michel's shoulder and nestled the baby close. He stared at the words on the stone, and tried to make sense of it. He couldn't.

Next, the baby was gone and he was sitting in the bathtub, lost in his own fantasies. Michel had assaulted him and he hurt from the repetitious rape. He knew the older man would do something like this, to him. What shocked him was, he liked it. He had always wanted to be closer to Michel. And, have the older man want him.

Remy woke up, briefly, to look about the room. Logan had been serious about not coming back for a few weeks. He sighed and hugged the pillow. Nestling his cheek against it, he drifted to sleep again.

Michel's office. Michel was sitting at his desk, Remy was atop him and moving his body up and down on Michel's hard length. While the older man was fully dressed, Remy was clad only in an open white shirt. His fingers dug into Michel's shirt as he gripped the man's shoulders, tightly. Remy was panting, loudly, and clenching himself around Michel's manhood as he pulled himself up, each time.

The man held onto Remy's lean hips and tensed as the boy pushed down to bury Michel completely inside him. Come exploded inside him, as tears rolled down Remy's pale cheeks and onto Michel's white shirt. Michel was staring up at the sobbing boy on his lap. "Shhh, Remy." Wiping his left hand at the tears. "De pain go 'way, soon, boy. Ol Michel take all your pain away. Y' don' need love, boy. Y' need a good fucking, no?"

"Oui, cher." Remy sighed and pulled the man into a brief embrace before removing him and moving to get dressed.

Turning around, Remy came face to face with Logan. But, something wasn't right. This wasn't the Logan he knew. This Logan was different. Smiling, laughing, and kissing a woman while holding her close. Remy watched as a child ran up and wrapped herself around Logan's right leg. Was this what Logan really wanted in his life? Was this what he needed?

Remy woke up, sobbing. He curled himself against the headboard and embraced Logan's pillow tightly. What a time to be alone, he thought to himself.

************************

Logan spent the next week and a half, thinking only of Remy. The way Remy smelled, moved, slept, ate and spoke was all he could think about. Anything that reminded him of Remy, made him so incredibly aroused that he couldn't move from the bed, or walk straight. He loved the way the kid felt, beside him. That thought only aroused him more.

He leaned himself against the headboard and let his hand rub against his stiff length that had been hidden behind his cotton boxers. Remembering the soft peppery scent of the kid and the way his hair always seemed to smell of fruit, gave him the courage to remove himself and stroke his errection fully.

All that had been on his mind was the beautiful young man, who was so elegant and loving. Clearly, the kid deserved to be happy, and unmarred. Yet, something was clearly eating at him the night he left. Remy was unhappy at first, then he was in a better mood as Logan headed for the taxi?

Nonchalantly, Logan was stroking himself to the jumble of thoughts. He orgasmed at least twice, but the third had proven more erotic than the others. Putting off his orgasm, he concentrated on the young man's features. Sparkling auburn hair, radiant skin that was normally flawless- now bruised and scraped and probably still blistered. Strange, yet provocative red on black eyes. Movement was another talent the boy caressed. So fluid and soft. Voice of a cajun angel. Pulling and squeezing himself, it had taken him by surprise when he did finally orgasm. Warm, wet, and thick streams had shot out onto his chest as his hips twitched at the spasms. He had whispered Remy's name, repeatedly.

As he cleaned up, he could have sworn he caught scent of the young man that haunted him. Cautiously moving over to the window, and peering out from behind the curtains of his second storey room, his eyes caught an object. Silently thanking himself for opening the window a few inches an hour before, he watched the young man who stood across the street.

Remy was smiling and chatting to a woman as he carried her groceries for her. The kid had done a marvelous job at hiding the bruises. Dressed in a black suit with white shirt, and black shoes, he looked so beautiful. The long auburn hair had been neatly pulled back into a loose ponytail. Remy's left side had given Logan most of the information on how the kid was doing without him.

Ducking out of view as Remy had turned his direction and had clearly started to look for something, or someone, he almost felt shame. He wanted to reach out and touch him. And for once, he hadn't wanted a drink in that week and a half. There were tons of other people on the street, but somehow, the only person he saw was Remy. All he wanted was Remy. And once he had him, he drank, and hit, and degraded him.

As Remy and the woman walked out of his view, Logan reminded himself that he only had a few days left. And it was obvious the kid was doing better than expected, without him. He sighed.

**********************

Remy had been in town to have dinner with a lady, and also try to catch a glimpse of Logan. He had to know if the older man was keeping to his word, and for nearly two weeks, he hadn't seen any sign of him.

After dinner, Remy had walked her to her car, and said goodbye.

Walking back to his own car, it started raining heavily. Hurrying inside, the rain was pouring and to make matters worse, the car refused to start on the first and second tries. On the third try, it started. He made it half way home when the engine quit and left him stranded on the side of the deserted dirt road.

Remy hit, angrily, at the steering wheel as if it were some enemy of his. Fighting back sobs and pent up depressions mixed with angers, he sighed and got out of the car. Letting the door slam shut, he started walking the rest of the way home. He hadn't cared about the rain, or the car that still had the keys in the ignition. All he'd cared about was the day, minute, instant that Logan would walk through his front door and be home.

By the time he had gotten home, it was extremely late, and he realised that his keys to the front door had been left behind, along with the unmoving automobile. So, instead of doing what his mind told him to, and open the door via kinetics, he decided to fall asleep on the wooden porch swing and wait for morning.

The next thing he knew, a gentle hand was shaking him back to consciousness. It was daylight, and the sun had been just coming up. He looked up to see Monique standing over him. He rubbed his face and sat up.

"Where de car, monsieur? You in an accident again?"

"Non, chere, de damn car die on de side of de road. We go get it, oui?" Remy looked up at her and coughed terribly as he stood himself up and stretched.

"Oui. Den, you go to bed. Y' don' need t' be catchin cold, Remy. Come chile, y' need t' get dry and warm, firs'." Monique wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him inside.

"Kay." He coughed again and covered his mouth.

She led him upstairs and helped him into a nice warm bath and dry clothes. While he dressed, she went downstairs to fix hot oatmeal for him to eat. She had always made sure he was well fed and cared for, even if he didn't always agree.

When he finished, they both climbed into her late model car and left to drag his back home.

***********************

Remy lay in bed, coughing. For two days that was all he had managed to do without passing out from exhaustion, and even that was becoming tiresome. Monique had brought him glass upon glass of water and crackers. He thanked her and routinely asked if Logan was there, yet. After each "no", he had rolled onto his left side and tried to bury himself into Logan's pillow. His coughs choked his soundless sobs and his fever gradually rose. He silently admitted to himself that if Logan was gone for good, then there was no more need for him.

Monique strongly disagreed.

It was now the middle of the night and Monique had made sure Remy was asleep, before settling into a chair with a blanket, at the end of his bed, and yawned. She had played nurse to him for two days, and was tired. After fighting with him to ring the doctor, and losing, she had all but given up. He dismissed her time and time again to go home for some rest, yet she stayed.

The chair hadn't been too uncomfortable, but it wasn't exactly the chair to fall asleep in, either. She rested. She opened her eyes every few minutes to check on him, and listen to his increasingly harsh coughs. Cringing and rising to help him drink some water, she wondered if Logan was coming back. Monique knew very well that Remy was serious about letting the sickness and fever claim him, if he didn't return, but she had no way of letting Logan know that. Monique sighed and tended to him.

An hour later, as Monique sat in the chair, Remy had sat up to watch her sleep and listen for any other footsteps in the house. It was today. He knew it. Logan wouldn't be happy that Remy was sick, but that hadn't bothered him. All he had wanted was to see Logan and hold him close.

Dawn was approaching, and Monique had forced herself ot wake up when she didn't hear Remy's coughs. She stood up and gasped at the empty bed. Checking the room and not finding him, she hurried out of the room to find him. "M'sieur? Chile, where a'e ya?" No sooner had she said that than she focused on a figure sitting down and leaning against the bannister. waiting for the front door to open.

Remy sat nearly halfway down the staircase, dozing. Dressed in only his boxers, he was shivering and holding himself. He rocked himself and whispered for the door to open. He jumped slightly as a blanket was placed about his shoulders and someone sat beside him. "He be here soon, chere. I know it."

Monique nodded. "D' y' t'ink dat he gon' let y' sit dere, an' wait f'r him, when y' sick?"

Remy dropped his head and mumbled a soft "no". But, he had wanted to be there when Logan came through the door. Now, he was being pulled to his feet and helped back into bed.

"I tell y' when he come, chile. Y' rest." She soothed and tucked him in.

************************

Later that afternoon, Remy had finally fallen asleep and Monique had slipped out to run to the market. He had been mainly motionless, but always managed to snuggle as close to Logan's side of the bed as he could. He coughed and choked, but refused to sit up and drink water. He could feel himself being the only one in the house, so who was to stop him, if Logan shouldn't come back?

He was coughing again. It hurt to cough. It also hurt to move, breathe, speak, or whimper. He perked as he heard the front door close. Telling himself it was only Monique, he sighed and rolled back onto his left side, from his back. Kicking off the covers and coughing again, he listened again. The sound was gone. He was coughing again, this time it felt like he had swallowed sandpaper and acid.

Remy had his eyes closed and felt a hand roll him back onto his back. A man's hand? Monique must have gone to get the doctor who lived up the road. The man was wiping him down with a cool, wet cloth. He opened his eyes and was shocked to find that the blurry figure above him, was who he had been waiting for. A Mirage? Had his delirium done this?

"Hey kid." The man smiled and continued to pat and wipe him down with the cloth.

It was Logan. Joy. "Y' home?" Remy asked as he fought to see straight.

Logan stopped and smiled again. "Yea, baby. I'm home." His smile faded as he watched Remy roll away from him and cough again. He could smell the salt in the tears that threatened to fall, and hear the pain in Remy's voice as he barked out coughs that had become chokingly horrible.

When the coughs ended, Remy rolled back over, sat up and hugged Logan. "Missed you, cher." He pulled away and looked into Logan's eyes. "Y' eat yet? Remy fix you a nice dinner." His coughs had thrown his balance off, and he nearly fell face first over Logan's lap and onto the floor, but an arm around him, stopped him. He was being laid back down, and stared at with a questionable expression on Logan's face.

Logan shrugged as Remy squirmed and did his best to sit up, against the headboard. As he tucked a pillow behind remy, he answered. "No. I'm not hungry." He looked to the bedside table and reached for the bowl. "But, I made you some soup. Still hot, too. Try some." He smiled as the boy accepted. He fed Remy, and stopped at every cough, to wipe away the tears and spills of soup the boy had coughed up.

As Remy finished the soup, he yawned and smiled as he hugged Logan, who had been laying him back down to rest. Gathering the cloth and excusing himself to rinse it out, he kissed the boy's forehead and felt the heat of the fever. When he came back, he asked Remy how he became sick. He growled, quietly, as Remy blushed and looked away.

"De car broke down, started raining. Was stranded an' 'ad t' walk home. Was days ago." He coughed again before looking back at Logan.

Logan continued to wipe the boy down. "Did you call the doc?"

Remy shook his head. "Non. Remy take care o' hisself." He said, confidently. He coughed again and was relieved to find it was only a short spell, this time.

"And ya got a fever of 102." Logan grunted. "But, I'm here now. Want some more soup?"

Yawning, Remy shook his head again. "Non. Remy too tired, cher."

Logan nodded and inhaled, deeply. "Aight. You get some rest. I'll check on ya in a while." His attempt to stand up and leave was halted by Remy grabbing him by the wrist.

"Stay. No see you in two weeks, and Remy feel awful. Please?" Remy pleaded as best he could.

Logan sighed and smiled. "Okay. But, I'm gonna get you some fresh water AND more soup." Collecting the bowl and glass, he made his way, quickly, downstairs.

After a minute of being alone, Remy suddenly felt sick. His head swam and his stomach turned and rose. Stumbling out of bed, and crawling as fast as he could to the bathroom, he had made it just in time to lean over the bowl and vomit. His body shook as the contents omitted themselves from his stomach. Before long, he was leaning against the bowl, and then someone was beside him. He was being moved, and cleaned with a cool cloth. Then, he was being lifted off of the floor and carried back to the bedroom. Logan's shoulder felt nice to snuggle into.

He was being laid back down in bed, again. Logan's warmth was retreating from him. He sighed but didn't open his eyes. A few seconds later, Logan was lying down beside him on the bed. Remy was being hugged and embraced as Logan wrapped his arms around him and fixed the comforter to cover them.

********************

As Remy had been asleep for two days, Logan made it a point to do something around the house. He'd managed to repaint the porch, trim the front lawn, and fix the gate where it had been off the hinges a little. Checking in on Remy every hour or so, Logan had started to fix the car.

"S' it fixed, cher?" Remy had wrapped himself up in an extra blanket, and slipped out of the house while Logan had been busy with the car. He came to stand next to Logan and watch as the man was bent over the engine.

"Almost. And, what are you doin outta bed, boy? Tryin to get sick all over again?" Logan straightened and looked at Remy, as he wiped his hands on a cloth hanging from his left front pants pocket. He looked Remy up and down, and shook his head.

"Feel better." Remy followed as Logan brushed past him to sit in the driver's seat and turn the key. "Logan, I been t'inkin. Mebbe, ..... mebbe Remy shoul' go back t' work? Mmm, Not as..." He was cut off by Logan's cold glare. "Non, non Logan. Remy done wit' bein a whore, cher. B-b-but, was t'inkin dat mebbe he get a job, in town? Only make love t' y', cher. Remy know dat. Jus' a t'ought." He shrugged and kicked at the dirt. His bare feet are what made Logan furious.

"Get inside. We'll talk about this later."

"Kay." Remy shrugged and went back inside, and sat down on the sofa. After a moment, he yawned and decided to lie down for a while. He sat up a half hour later as Logan came through the door. Watching the older man drink a glass of water, Remy decided to ask again. "Can Remy get a job, Logan?"

Logan came to sit down in the chair across from him and stare at Remy. "Why? Between the both of us, we have enough to live here for a long time. You could have had a decent job after that shit with Michel ended. But you chose to do what he wanted. So, why now, Remy?" Logan's tone raised and deepened in anger.

"Somet'in t' do, cher. Remy had a job 'fore Michel. Jus' wan' somet'in to do while y're gone, cher. You always away, an' Remy jus' here--" He stopped as Logan stood up and started to walk to the entrance way.

Stopping just short of the doorway, Logan turned around and watched Remy stand up and huddle the blanket around him. "And, what did you do before? A gopher for him? Did you charm people into goin to him for business?"

"Non, Logan. Remy was a...."

"Goddamn it Remy! Ya know, you really try my patience sometimes. " Logan was next to furious, and proved it as he threw the almost empty glass past Remy and watched it hit the tall bookshelf behind him. He sighed and mumbled as he made his way back to the kitchen. When he came back, Remy had lost the blanket and was picking up the pieces of broken glass.

Remy stood and set the pieces on the table beside the sofa. He eyed Logan carefully. Standing only in his boxers, his hands fidgeted in front of him, and didn't make a move until Logan moved to sit back down in the chair. Remy cautiously knelt in front of Logan, wrapped his arms around the man's waist and rested his head on Logan's chest. "Desole, Logan. But, tired of stayin here all de time. I be good, promise. Was t'inkin bout mebbe a chef, non?"

"I don't want to talk about it, now. Get back to bed. Middle of November, and yer runnin 'round in nothin but shorts." Logan shrugged Remy off of him and looked away from him.

"No. Why can' we talk 'bout it, now? Logan, Remy can do somet'in ot'er dan jus' fuck. Gets lonely wit'out you. Y' no t'ink Remy can do somet'ing, cher? Mebbe I su'prise y', non?" Remy flashed a confident grin up at Logan but let it fade when Logan stood up and came to stand in the middle of the room.

Logan sighed, angrily. "I said, enough. If you want to do somethin, fine. Do it. Don't sell me on it."

Remy stood up. Bowing his head, he shrugged. "Kay, cher. Jus' a whore, den."

Growling at the comment, Logan turned and grabbed the young man. Throwing him into the bookcase, behind him, he watched as Remy landed and shook his head to clear the daze. Logan walked up to Remy and knelt over him. Drawing his fist back, he planted it in the middle of Remy's chest, but it hadn't been in a harming way. As the young man gave a terrified cry, he scoffed and pushed Remy to lie flat on the floor. "I don't want to hear that word, again. Understand me??"

Remy nodded.

"Good. Get back to bed before I put ya in the hospital for it." He stood up and pulled Remy to his feet.

Rubbing his chest and hurrying for the stairs, Remy coughed. Why had Logan punched him? He'd never done that before. Remy didn't quite understand what was going on. Perhaps Monique was right. Maybe he did need a woman's touch, but he loved Logan.

*******************

That night, Logan came into the room and noticed that Remy was asleep. Good. The kid had needed a rest from himself for awhile. Sitting down on his side of the bed, he removed his clothing and laid down. Logan rolled onto his right side, propped his head up on his elbow, and watched Remy sleep.

Remy was on his back, and sighing in his sleep. He rolled onto his right side and curled an arm under his pillow. His dreams had become dark, depressing visions. Containing a cough, he yawned. His chest and back were still throbbing, but dully. He wondered if Logan left the mess for him to clean up in the morning. Remy cleared his throat and jumped as Logan's arm was around his stomach, pulling his closer to him. "Sorry, Logan."

"For what?"

Remy shrugged. "Bein stupid."

"You aren't stupid, darlin. What were ya, before? Job wise."

A Yawn. "Remy work in de bookstore. Den it close down, dey gave Remy some books. Won' bring it up 'gain, cher. I know."

"Hm." Logan kissed Remy's shoulder. "You can work, kid. I aint gonna stop ya." He released him and rolled back over onto his back.

Remy turned his head and then rolled himself to lie on the opposite side. "Never wanted t' be a wh--.... dat word, cher. Dat was Michel's way. Remy jus' want t' love someone an' be happy, oui? I- I- I love y', Logan. Miss y' when y' gone, an' Monique, she only comfort Remy. She tell me, y' be back soon, so I wait. Den, met dis fille in town, she nice. From Quebec....? So, Remy take her t' dinner, an' we have a bon time. But, s' no' you, cher."

Logan took in all of what Remy was saying. He raised his right hand up to play with Remy's hair as the young man was talking. All he could think about was how he loved the kid too. "Okay, okay. Shhh. I get the picture, kiddo. Come here, we both need sleep." Snuggling Remy down, onto his chest, and continuing to play with his hair, he smiled as Remy reached under the blanket and ran his long fingers against his drowsy erection. "That aint sleepin, Remy." He smiled.

"Y' like dat, mon amour?" Remy lifted his head off of Logan's chest and looked at him. His eyes glowed faintly as he smiled.

Capturing Remy's hand, gently, he held him there. "You still have a fever, kid. We need to break that, before we can do anything else. Be a good boy, maybe we'll do somethin with this, later. Okay?" He smiled and moved Remy to kiss him.

"Okay." Remy whispered as he snuggled back against Logan and fell into a blissful sleep.




PART 8

1929, New Year's Eve day


Logan had been up for hours and downstairs making breakfast and setting the table. Remy had been working late all week, so he thought he would let the kid have a rest from cooking for one day. Eggs, bacon, grits, and coffee were his treats for Remy, as well as an after breakfast romp.

Listening and looking at the ceiling, in the kitchen, he stopped and quirked a smile. Making his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs, Logan turned the corner and stopped in the doorway to watch Remy enjoy a bath.

Remy sat with his back to Logan. His head leaned back and he moaned softly. A soft gasp escaped him, and a slight jerk told the man behind him what was going on. The warmth of the water carressed him. He licked his lips and whispered Logan's name, softly. Remy tensed as he stroked himself a bit more firmly. Repeating Logan's name, he was oblivious to the fact that the object of his fantasy was now leaning against the sink.

As Logan watched, and listened, he noticed that Remy was completey lost in his fantasy of himself and apparently, Logan. He could feel himself rising to the occasion, and that seemed to make Remy all the more aroused. With his arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles, he leaned against the sink and took in the sight of Remy stroking himself.

Long, languid strokes in a soft, unbroken motion. His eyes were closed and his lips were embraced by his soft pink tongue, every so often. His cheeks flushed and sharp yet pleasant gasps escaped him as he stroked himself more firmly. Remy's left hand cupped his hairless balls, while his right pulled and squeezed at his long, hard length. His orgasm was too close for him to hold back any further. Remy gasped and moaned as his breath caught and his hips jerked up, his manhood releasing wave upon wave of hot, sticky orgasm.

"Mmmm."

The voice startled Remy. Looking over at the figure, his cheeks flushed again, and he smiled. The man came closer to him and knelt next to him. His fingers caressed Remy's left cheek before his lips were met with the older man's.

"Y' help me wash up, Logan?"

Logan shook his head and laughed. "No, I think I'd like to watch how yer gonna do that, after that little fantasy you had. Sides, breakfast is getting burnt. Hurry up."

"Kay."

*************************

Remy was dressed and standing in the bedroom with his arms full of clean linens and waiting for Logan to come upstairs from washing dishes. He had already stripped the bed and pillows.

As Logan came up the stairs, he could hear Remy's record player playing Glen Miller. The kid loved that record, and only played it at special occasions. Turning the corner, into the room, He silently watched as Remy had started humming along and subtly dance along with the beat.

When Remy noticed Logan in the doorway, he stopped and smiled sheepishly back. "You gon' help me make de bed, or jus' stand dere?"

"Mmm, maybe both."

Laughing, Remy tossed the folded top sheet at Logan and laughed even harder as Logan tossed it back and chased him around the room. They toppled onto the bed, on Remy's side, and snuggled before remembering why they were there.

They started at the end of the bed. When Logan would pull, Remy would pull back and yank the sheet from Logan. He'd laugh as Logan's expression became confused and finally playful. He was promised revenge, several times, and only snickered at them.

Finishing the bottom sheet, Logan looked up to find Remy enthralled in the corner fittings and wasn't really paying attention to anything else. He smirked to himself and shook the pillow he was holding, into the case. Suddenly, he had an idea. The perfect payback, and the kid would never know what hit him. Shaking it one last time, Logan tossed it at Remy and watched as it hit him square in the face, sending the kid back and away from the bed. He laughed but stopped as Remy threw the pillow back at him.

Remy laughed this time and managed to dodge Logan's playing pawings. Logan had reached out and pulled him onto the bed to settle the pillow fight, and he happily obliged. They swatted and laughed at eachother before lying down on the bed and panting. Remy rolled over to face Logan and bury himself in the man's chest.

Logan smiled and held him.

*************************

Five months had passed and Remy had been working double shifts all week. This made Logan somewhat uncomfortable. It was one thing to know Remy had a job, but it was another to know that he was gone for a day and half the night, every other day.

He was back to drinking again. This time it was a full bottle of import wine, from the cellar. He was sitting outside, on the front porch, waiting for Remy to come home. At 1:30 in the morning, he was quite sloshed and ready to punch the kid for staying out so late.

When Remy finally pulled the car into the drive, he hesitated for a moment before getting out. Opening the door, getting out, he winced and sighed. Remy shut the door and made his way, slowly, to the porch.

"Yer late, kid." Logan growled, smoking his cigar.

"Oui. I know. Logan, I-... don' be upset wit' me, ok? Remy.... well, Paul, he...." Remy sighed and stepped closer.

Logan sniffed. Salty scents tinged with copper flooded his nose. "Come here." Standing up and biting his cigar to free both of his hands, he pulled Remy closer to him. With one hand, he reached behind Remy and let the other undo the pant fastenings. He roughly slid his hand between the materials and down in between Remy's bottom and felt for the wetness. His eyes caught Remy's embarrassed blush, as he removed his hand.

Semen and....... blood?

Remy bowed his head and crushed himself against Logan's chest. He shook and gasped at the touch.
"'m sorry, Logan."

Logan growled. He grabbed Remy by the arm and dragged him back into the house, stopping in the entranceway. "What the hell is this? What have I told you about fuckin people?!" He was almost to the point of livid, but something in the way Remy had started to answer told him it wasn't his fault.

"No Remy's fault, cher. Honest. Please Logan, I clean up den I tell y', kay?" Remy shook and backed away from Logan as the man let go of him. He turned and headed for the stairs but stopped as Logan cleared his throat.

Logan sighed and swallowed. "Sit."

"Non, cher. Please? Hur's too much." Remy whispered but didn't turn around.

"Then, stand. Either way yer not movin till you tell me what happened. What about Paul? Talk to me, boy, or so help me..."

Turning around, Remy both saw and felt Logan's anger, but it wasn't directed at him. For once. "Was in de back room, closin. F'got Paul was still dere, an' Remy was s' tired. He slip an' Paul..... well..... Sorry, Logan. Didn' wan dis t' happen."

Logan sniffed again. He knew Remy was telling the truth. "Obviously, you wanted it too, otherwise, I'm sure you would have zapped him."

Remy shook his head. "Remy hasn' used his power since Michel's--." He looked at the floor. "Only wan' you, cher."

Nodding, Logan hugged the young man and followed him upstairs to the bath.

************************

A month later, Logan walked into the diner to pick Remy up after he clocked out. He had been doing this ever since Remy came home that night. He didn't mind it, much. Paul had managed to avoid seeing Logan, which made Logan all the more pleasant to be around.

As Remy came out of the kitchen and turned off the lights to the diner, he stopped and waited for Logan and his manager to say goodbye before being ushered out of the door. Opening the door and sitting down in the passenger seat, he waited for Logan to get in and start the car.

"I told your manager about you takin off for a week. I have a few plans for us." Logan said as he shut the door. The engine started and they headed for home. Not looking at Remy, he cleared his throat as he drove past Michel's still-standing burnt house. He noted Remy's uneasy reaction. "It's still there, kid. You did a helluva job."

"Hm." Remy sighed and blankly stared at the burnt structure as they passed.

Logan glanced over to the passenger seat. "You okay?" He waited for an answer. "Hey..?"

"Fine, Logan. What we gon' do for a week?" Remy looked from the window to the older man.

Smirking and patting Remy's thigh, he turned a corner and stopped at a stop sign. "You'll see." He looked over at the kid to see an inquisitive expression. "It's a surprise. Just a little somethin to cheer you up, and relax ya. And, startin tomorrow, you're gonna be restin."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "Okay."

Logan pulled the car up to the gate and got out to open it. When he came back, he noted Remy had been yawning and coughing again. He guessed that it had been the night before when they were out sitting on the roof, overlooking the backyard, and talking about things that bothered them. The nights were still cool for the start of Spring. Remy hadn't been much for wearing a more heavier shirt, but settled for putting on his trademark trenchcoat.

As the car was parked in front of the house, Remy had gotten out and volunteered to go back and shut the gate. He strolled back to the gate before Logan could object, and shut it. When he returned, Logan had already gone inside and turned on the lights. He sighed to himself and decided to sit on the front porch swing before going in.

He sat there in the dark for minutes before the front door opened and Logan stepped out. He sat there, staring at the front gate as if someone was about to pull up and join them. His attentions were drawn to Logan as the man crossed in front of him and sat to Remy's left.

"What's the matter, kid?" Logan wrapped an arm around Remy's shoulders and pulled him closer to him.

Remy shrugged and sighed. He closed his eyes for a minute and snuggled into Logan's warm chest. "Been t'rough alot, huh, Logan? Remy stay wit' you, Logan? Give ya an't'in ya wan'. But, don' leave, ok?"

"I'm not goin anywhere, Rem. Now, what's the matter?"

"D' y' t'ink we always be t'get'er, Logan? Can' imagine m'self wit'out you, cher. When y' wen' away, all Remy could t'ink 'bout was Logan. Den ya come back, an' Remy sick. Y' get angry wit' me when I do somet'in wrong, but you always forgive Remy. Wan' y' t' come live wit' me cause Remy know y' need him. Why y' love me, Logan?" Remy leaned forward and rest his weight on his palms, before looking back at Logan.

"I think back to before we met, and I think of what I was like. Lookin at you, I see exactly what I was like. Maybe not the same professions and such, but there is enough of a similarity there. Rem, before you, I've never thought about screwin another guy. But, you and yer charms changed my mind. Now, you should get inside and up to bed. Big day tomorrow." Logan patted Remy's shoulder and helped him to his feet and into the house.

********************

The doorbell chimed at half past 8, the next morning. Logan answered the door. He smiled and waved the woman inside. Telling her to go upstairs, he headed for the backyard to tell Remy to come in for his surprise.

Remy had been lounging on a low branch in his favourite tree when Logan called to him. Sitting up and turning around, he gave Logan an uneasy look and hopped down. "Wha's de matter, Logan?" Remy hurried onto the porch and was shoved inside.

"Get upstairs. Somethin I gotta show you."

Logan pushed Remy up the stairs and through the bedroom door. He stood behind a shocked Remy, as the kid took two steps into the room and froze when he saw someone lying on his bed.

The woman was completely nude, and lounging on her stomach, on Remy's side of the bed. Her long red hair caped her slender, pale back and she smiled at Remy with soft, seductively violet eyes. A thin, long body rolled over and rest on her back, hands behind her head. "Like what ya see, sugar?" She sat
up and reached out for him. "C'mere, Remy."

Remy shook and backed up. He turned around and ran into Logan, in the doorway. "Non, non.... Please, Logan? Remy be so good, cher. Only wan' you, mon amour." He begged as he wrapped his arms around Logan's shoulders and hugged him.

"Shhh shh, it's ok." Logan soothed as he started to unbutton Remy's fresh white shirt and slip it off his shoulders. "It was my idea. You need somethin different, kiddo. Sit down, on the bed. Let her have ya, Rem." Kissing Remy's lips and staring, calmly, into Remy's shocked expression, he smiled. "Come for her. Make her feel you insider her. You need this, Rem. And I can't give it to ya."

The woman had come to stand behind Remy and finish undressing him, easily. Reaching around to unfasten his pants and push them down, she smiled as both she and Logan shared eye contact. Whispering into Remy's ear, and pulling him back to the bed, she turned him around to face her and kissed him gently. She smiled as Remy had slowly given in to her and kissed her back.

She had managed to remove his clothing completely and position him on top of her, as she lie back on the bed. Massaging him, gently, she kept eye contact with Logan until he nodded his aprroval and leaned against the doorframe to watch. Her eyes locked on his as she placed his erection inside her. He gasped as her lips kissed his, and her hands pulled his hips close to hers. "Fuck me, Remy." She whispered, and moaned as he had started to move inside her.

Remy kept his focus on her, but let his empathy feel Logan as a precaution. What he felt puzzled him. Logan had always told him not to mess around with anyone but him, now he was being told by Logan, that he was allowed. A dull throb burned inside him and brought him out of his musings. His pace had started to quicken and become more firm. Letting his fingers play with her soft, full breasts, he kissed her lips so passionately he had almost forgotten about Logan in the doorway. Pushing in once more, he gasped and his breath caught momentarily as he came.

"Ooooh, so good, Remy. You're gonna hafta come again, for me." She panted and smiled up at him.

Remy smiled back, and briefly glanced behind him as he remembered where he was. Staring at Logan with skittish eyes, he was struck with a tingling feeling at the back of his mind. He could feel himself becoming aroused again, and knew who was overpowering him. Gasping again, as if he was being squeezed out of his own breath, Remy's eyes glowed brightly as he turned back to look at the woman beneath him.

She smiled and moaned as Remy started an extremely lust-filled rhythm inside her. Arching up, into his thrusts, she moaned again and caught Logan's expression as he casually slipped out of the doorway. When her orgasm hit, they had both been out of breath and clung ever-so-tightly to the other.

Positions changed, and so did the ideas, but the lust and need was still very much the same for both parties. The only set back was that Logan had decided not to join them. Understanding that had made Remy feel uneasy about it. He was making love- and liking it- to a woman, in his house, in his own bed, and Logan wasn't in the room.

********************

Logan sat in the library, on the sofa, and listened to Remy pleasure the girl. Sighing to himself and realising that the kid seemed more happier with a woman, he closed his eyes and mused. He had already smoked 2 cigars, and was working on his third, when he heard footsteps on the stairs. After about 2 hours of nonstop play, someone could walk. And, was coming to talk to him.

"He's asleep." She said softly, as Logan glanced over at her. She had slipped on her summer dress, agian, and smoothed her hair. Her bare feet made a soft shuffling sound as she moved.

"Good. Kid needed somethin to relax him. He aint slept in a good while. Thanks, Amanda." Logan exhaled smoke and let her sit beside him. His nose picked up Remy's salty scent on her, instantly.

Smiling and taking Logan's free hand in hers, she blinked. "It wasn't a problem. I can see he really loves you by the way he tensed after you left. But, why ask me to do this?"

"I just wanted to know what he really wanted. What he needs. He never really opened up to me about before we were together, so I thought I'd find out for myself. Amanda, he needs someone he loves and trusts. Someone to take care of him. Definately someone who trusts him." He hated admitting it.

"So, what makes you think he doesn't want you to be that person?" She gave him a quizzical look.

Logan winced. "Because I can't give him a marriage, or a family. And that's how it should be. I wasn't....... gay........ before I met him, and I get the feelin, he really wasn't either. He's young. He should have a woman, and kids, and be a kid himself. Michel took that from him."

Amanda moved to kneel in front of Logan and grinned up at him. "You need a woman, too, right?" Easing his legs apart, her right hand reached up to massage his covered erection. "I bet you've also been needing a good woman to screw for so long, that you've been waiting for this night to come up."

Logan watched her as she continued her massagings. He hadn't stopped her, and wasn't about to start, just yet. A low moan in his throat gave subtle hints to her that she was doing a good job. "That aint why I asked ya here."

She smirked and moved to straddle his lap. "Logan, he's so in love with you, he cried and whispered your name during his orgasm. He loves women, and sex, yea. But, he really loves you too." Kissing him and letting him taste his lover on her lips, Amanda pressed herself against him.

They kissed for what seemed like an hour. Both tasting Remy and each other. When the kiss broke,
both of them moaned and blushed.

"He's awake. How 'bout we go share this moment with him?" Logan listened and whispered into the
kiss.

"Sounds fun. I always wondered what you two were like in the same bed." Smirking and winking at him, she slid off of him and pulled him to his feet.

For a whole week, the three of them spent most of it in bed, when they weren't doing other things. Logan learned that Remy had really come to open up and be more comfortable with the situation, when Logan was around. In fact, he was surprised to learn that Remy had wanted him to be close to him so that Logan could see just how Remy felt about him.

**********************

By November, Logan was drinking again. This time, he had been drinking much more heavier than before. His rages were very short fused, and there hadn't been a time that Remy wasn't the focus or the receiver of the anger.

When Thanksgiving came, instead of a turkey dinner and romance, Remy had been brutally kicked down the stairs, slammed into walls, and raped on the front lawn in the middle of a terrible rainstorm, as well as other places. And, each time, he begged Logan not to do it again. There had also been nights when Logan locked him out of the house, after coming home even a few minutes late. Sometimes he'd be out on the front porch all night. Other times, Logan would sobre up enough to carry him up to bed. Eventhough he had his house keys in hand, he felt Logan's boiling rage on the other side of the door.

And as Christmas approached, Remy had had to bail Logan out of jail at least twice for domestic violence. And, it had been Remy who had rang the police.

There had been days when Logan was somewhat sobre, and spent the days apologizing profusely about what happened. Kissing Remy's every bruise and scratch, and broken bone until Remy finally pushed him away and went to sit in his tree. He had lost his job due to the bruises and absences that he refused to explain.

When New Years came, Remy was ready to pack a suitcase and leave the house. He had had enough, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to open the door. It killed him that he loved Logan, and Logan was killing him. Logan hadn't been there to stop him. Yet, he stopped himself and found himself unpacking.

Logan came through the front door as he had just finished unpacking for the seventh time, and put away his suitcase. He jumped when he turned around to see a drunken Logan standing in the doorway. Remy smiled and backed up a step.

"Need some help, Logan? Y' come t' bed, now?"

Logan staggered into the room and pushed Remy into the wall, as he made his way to his side of the bed. Clearing his throat and dropping himself onto the bed, he fell into a twisted-dream sleep. His mind tortured him with pictures of Remy and Amanda, making love and laughing, while he watched. The next thing he felt, was Remy's body slowly easing it's way to lay beside him.

"I love you, Logan. Please don' be angry.....?" Remy whispered and snuggled close to Logan. He was naked and shaking. Pulling the covers over them, he yawned.

Logan growled softly and rolled away from Remy. "Go to sleep, kid." He mumbled.

Remy sighed and rolled over onto his right side and sat up. Sliding out of bed, he was grabbed at the wrist by a crushing grip. "Jus' goin t' de bat'room, cher." He yelped as he was pulled back to bed and growled at.

Logan rolled himself to loom over Remy and try to focus on him. "Don't lie to me."

"No lyin, cher. Y' sleepin, so, Remy go t' de bat'room an'--- NGH!" Remy was silenced abruptly as a hand fisted around his throbbing erection.

Logan growled and hissed at Remy as he squeezed the legnth tighter. "Yer only hard cause I am. But, I know how to contain my dick. You should try containin yours."

Remy nodded and whimpered in pain, from the grip. He fisted his hands into Logan's shirt and pushed, trying to get the older man to release him. "I will, Logan. Unh, please.. y' hurtin me. Please, le' go?" Remy tried not to squirm in fear of being squeezed harder or worse.

Logan released him and rolled back over. "What do ya want, kid? Fuckin? Suckin? Dick? Ass? Or,.... cunt? What, Remy?" Closing his eyes and settling down into the bed.

"Non. I wan' you, cher. Jus' you. Don' have ta have sex, Logan. Can I jus' hold you?" Remy rolled onto his left side and propped himself up on his elbow. His right hand traced circles on Logan's right arm.

Logan sighed and pulled Remy closer to him. Playing with the kid's hair, he cleared his throat and removed the hairtie, letting Remy's long, auburn locks fall loose down his slender back. He ran his hand through Remy's hair and moaned softly.

Pulling Remy ontop of him, he unzipped himself and freed his manhood. Pre-come had dribbled over the tip, and he rubbed it into the tip with his thumb. Remy had lifted himself up and straddled Logan as he pushed his erection into Remy. He was grabbed and held, tightly, as Remy gasped and forced himself to relax at the intrusion. He then let Remy take over in their quiet sex before he couldn't take it anymore and rolled them over to pound into Remy.

Logan eventually came in a mad rush, and let Remy have his own orgasm before drifting off to a snuggled slumber in each other's arms.

********************

By mid November, they had been through fights over their relationship and what each wanted. Logan had always won. And Remy would be the one picking up the pieces from broken dishes, windows, and what not.

Remy had run in to town to go to the bank, and had promised Logan he'd be back in an hour. Hurrying as fast as he could, Remy drove to the bank in 10 minutes. He talked with a loan counselour about signing over his house to Logan. Since he hadn't known Logan's last name, he told the man to write down LeBeau, and that Logan was his uncle who had just moved to town.

Thunder started. Pouring rain came down in sheets, outside.

Remy shook the man's hand and tucked the papers back into the safety box and locked it. He tucked the key into a pocket and exited the bank. Checking his watch, he was relieved to see that he had over 40 minutes left.

Ducking into a cafe, he decided to wait out the storm. He sat down and ordered a cup of coffee just before the power went out. Remy sighed as he watched half of the town become engulfed in darkness. Logan was going to be so mad that he was late, but he didn't dare drive in the terrible storm.

As his coffee arrived, so did an unexpected visitor. Paul. Remy blinked and sat back. Paul's emotions had begun to overwhelm him and he found himself becoming dizzy. He smiled at Paul and said hello. Remy tried not to think of anything else but how mad Logan would be if he caught the two of them together.

They talked for an hour, and finally the rain had let up enough for Remy to excuse himself and pay the bill. Telling Paul goodbye, Remy hurried outside and down the street to the car. He headed home and sighed in relief as he pulled up to the gate.

Pulling into the drive, he shut the engine off and bolted up the steps and stopped to catch his breath before entering the house. Opening the door and stepping inside the house, he slipped off his coat and peered around the corner to see where Logan was. Remy sighed as he saw Logan sitting at the table, with his bottle of Bourbon. He closed the door and hung up his coat. He made his way to sit down in the chair to the left of Logan, and apologise. "Sorry, Logan. Didn' wan' t' drive in--"

"Where the hell have you been, boy?? I've been lookin all over for you." Logan paused. "Answer me!"

"Sorry, Logan. I had t' go t' de bank. Line was long." Remy flinched in reflex.

Logan growled in annoyance. "I checked the bank. Didn't see ya. Don't lie to me, Remy. I took you in." His words were laced with an angry growl that rose at each breath he took.

"No lyin, cher. De rain come, Remy got stranded in de cafe. Honest, mon amour. Remy try t' come home." Drawing in his breath and holding it, he cringed as Logan poured a drink into a shotglass. "Sil vous plait, mon ami, do not drink. Remy home now." Remy raised an eyebrow in hope. "He take care of you. Desole--?"

Logan downed the drink and poured another. The glass thumped on the table as he set it down in front of Remy. "Have a drink."

"Non, t'ank you."

Logan had stood up in a huff and knocked his chair over. He grabbed the back of Remy's head, by the hair and pulled him close. He sniffed. The boy had been aroused, recently. So aroused that pre-come had coated the top of his manhood, finely. "Who you been fuckin, boy? It's all over you." He hissed and yanked at Remy's hair. "You'd better tell me, now."

"No one, m'sieur. Remy control hisself."

Logan knew Remy wasn't lying, and on the next thunder boom and lightning crack, it was obvious. Logan released Remy's hair and straightened from leaning over the cringing boy. Snorting, Logan pulled Remy to his feet, by the arm, and dragged him back into the entranceway. Remy had been protesting and confessing his love for Logan, but the older man didn't hear it.

"Cher, Remy hard but, he only hard for you. You de only one who wan' Remy. Please cher! I wan' t' stay wit' you." Remy had started shaking and forcing back tearful sobs as he struggled to get out of Logan's grip.

Throwing the front door open and tossing the already soaked Cajun out, he growled. His growls turned to amusement as he watched Remy stumble and fall to his knees onto the front porch. He leaned against the frame and folded his arms. Remy was begging him, and he was enjoying it. A few moments later, he sighed and closed his eyes.

"Please Logan.....? Y' let Remy stay? I be so good t' you, mon amour. Promise." Remy held himself in a bleak attempt to stop his now visible trembles. The thunder being directly above them hadn't helped calm him down. Standing up had proven a task, as well, but he managed. His black clothing clung to him as he stood there, holding himself. He was relieved when he saw Logan open his eyes and calmly wave him back into the house.

Logan stepped back as Remy cautiously stepped past him. As soon as Remy was inside, he shut the door and moved to stand behind him. He could tell Remy was freezing from the amount of his shivers. Putting his hands on Remy's shoulders, as the kid stopped just a few feet into the entranceway, Logan began rubbing Remy's icy arms to warm him up. "Why don't ya have a seat, on the stairs, and I'll go get some coffee and a blanket for ya?" Remy didn't move. "Please?" He smiled as he was obliged.

Logan had been gone for a good 10 minutes, and Remy was alone and cold. The house was getting darker as evening approached. His shivers hadn't stopped, and he was becoming even colder by the minute. Wrapping his arms about himself, again, he bent over and rest on his lap. He closed his eyes for what seemed like a minute, only to open them as a thick blanket was draped over him. Remy looked up to see Logan handing him a cup of coffee before sitting beside him.

Silence hovered thickly over them before Logan swallowed and spoke. His eyes focused on the twisted carvings of the front door as he thought of how to phrase his words. Giving up on correctness, he sighed and let it spill out. "For three years now, I guess I musta put you through Hell. I gave you every chance I had to let you leave. You stayed. You bought this house, let me move in, now I act like I own it. I see the bruises I leave on ya. And sometimes, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch you sleep. Do I torture your dreams too?" Turning his head and looking over at the still shivering boy, he asked.

Remy hadn't taken his eyes away from the black liquid that swirled slightly in the cup. "Non cher."

Logan cleared his throat and moved to rub Remy's back. "You mean the world to me, Remy. I tend to forget that yer human too. I don't mean to treat ya like my own personal fuck post but, the truth is, I'm tryin to show you how I feel about you." He paused and sighed and swallowed the shame that was rising in his throat. "And it aint the charms doin it. I love the way you feel, in my arms, in my body, and in my soul. In my dying breath, Remy, I'll love you forever." Rubbing Remy's back with more pressure, but not harshly, he watched the boy intently. "Come on, let's get you outta those wet clothes."

"Okay." Remy shrugged and stood up with Logan's help. Remy let Logan help him up the stairs, but stopped after a violent shiver. Not looking at Logan, he asked in a small tone. "Logan...?"

"Hm?" Logan stopped and looked over at him.

"May I make love to you?" Remy's voice seemed to shrink with every syllable, but Logan heard him just perfect.

Logan inhaled and smiled. "Sure." Remy wanted him. After what he had just gone through, the kid wanted him. But, it puzzled him as to why.

************************

The next evening, they were having a small fight about whether or not Logan should leave to go drinking, or stay home with Remy. Logan had come down the stairs in a huff, with Remy close on his heels. He hadn't cared just how close until he tried to open the front door only to have it shut, immediately. It had taken him by surprise, as he spun around to the right and came face to face with an angry Cajun.

"Non. Please stay home, mon amour. We can talk, an' drink here, cher. Sil vous plait?"

"I need to think, Remy. I can't do that around you. I won't be gone long. Okay?"

"Den, stay home, an' I leave you alone, non?" Remy played with Logan's shirt collar, teasingly.

"I said no. Now, move."

"No." Remy was taken by surprise as Logan's left hand grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against the door. His back gave a sickening crack and he winced as he was lifted off of his feet.

"Don't ever tell me no, Cajun." A SNIKT was heard as one of Logan's claws rested itself in between Remy's legs, and right next to his manhood. "Or next time, I use these."

As Remy was tossed in the direction of the library, he rubbed his neck and stared at Logan. "Would y', really, Logan?" He asked, still sitting on the floor, as Logan opened the door and paused. Remy flinched as Logan resheathed his claws.

Logan was silent for a moment. "No. I"ll be back later." With that, he left.

Remy sat there and rubbed his sore neck. He sobbed and took out the key he was going to tell Logan about, and looked at it. Replacing it in his left front shirt pocket, he stood up and wiped his eyes. He'd just have to wait and tell Logan when he sobred up. He sighed to himself and went back upstairs to make the bed.

He fixed dinner for himself and dined alone. His food was cold by the time he actually brought himself to eat. Remy had sat in his chair and absently talked to Logan's empty chair. Telling the chair about the house and the papers and how happy he was to give Logan something Logan had liked from the first day he had moved in. Imagining what Logan's reaction would be, after he had really told him, he replayed the thought over and over in various answers.

Yawning, Remy had decided to play a few hands of Solitaire, to pass the time. And after the fifth round, he had been so tired that he put the cards away and went upstairs. Collapsing onto the bed, he snuggled into Logan's pillow and closed his eyes.

A short while later, Remy was wide awake again. He had slept, but his dreams were tortured of something he couldn't see, but felt. The pain had been so great that his chest hurt at every movement. When the pain finally subsided, he sat up and rubbed his chest. It had been so hard to breathe that tears streamed down his face. "Logan, please come home." He whispered and choked on a sob.

*************************

A car door shut, outside, and Remy had been in the bedroom, getting dressed when he heard it. The house was quiet and few lights had been on. Shutting off the bedroom light, he hurried out of the room and down the stairs. Logan's home, finally! That had been all he could think about. He moved the curtains and saw the person he had waited for, approaching. Opening the door and hugging the man as he stepped inside, he smiled. "You home, cher! I fix breakfast for you. Yo' favourite, m'sieur. I take y' coat an' we eat, non?"

He was swatted across the face with the back of Logan's hard and heavy hand. The force of the blow had knocked him into the wall behind him, and nearly knocked him out. He shook his head to clear the dizziness and looked for Logan.

"Don't just sit there, close the damn door! Lettin the cold in." Logan had walked right past him and hadn't paused for the swat, he simply headed for the stairs in a staggering daze.

Remy shook his head and answered. "Oui." He shut and locked the door before turning on his heel to see Logan stumble his way up a few steps. Rushing over to his side, he grabbed Logan by the arm to steady him and was swatted away.

"I don't need yer help, Cajun." Logan had started falling backwards.

Remy nodded and nudged Logan up the rest of the stairs. "Oui." He paused as he was becoming overwhelmed by Logan's drunken swirl of emotions. "I help you t' bed. You feel better in de morn, non? I rub y' back an' help ya relax?" Remy hooked his right arm around Logan's waist to steady both of them as they continued up the stairs.

Logan growled and grabbed Remy's shirt with his right hand, pulling him across his body and up against the wall. "I told you, kid. I don't need yer help." He growled and came within inches of Remy. "Yer just helpin me so I'll fuck ya. Is that it? Huh?!"

The boy flinched and looked away from Logan. His breath had begun to catch and pant at every movement Logan made.

"Non, please, m'sieur. I only wan' t' help." Remy was beginning to panic as he watched Logan throw him to the floor and reach for his belt and pant fastenings. Remy was being somewhat undressed as well. He was held down as Logan was pulling himself into a groggy erection. "Please don' do dis." He was silenced with a gulp, as Logan freed 3 of his shiny claws and struggled with Remy to as he sliced open the white shirt Remy was wearing.

Logan pushed himself into Remy with a growl, and started thrusting harshly.

Remy was shaking and crying and trying not ot move as his body was invaded and ripped at the seams.

Logan had heard every sound Remy's body made. He could even smell the arousal on the boy beneath him, as he pounded even more harshly into him. "You like this, you little slut? Huh?!"

Remy swallowed and turned his head to stare at the front door. Choking on his tears, he answered a whispered, "Oui, monsieur." He flushed and cringed as Logan continued to assault him verbally as well as physically.

"Is that all you want from me? Just a good fuck and a bed to sleep in?" Logan was thrusting mercilessly into Remy and watching as each tear silently slid down Remy's temples, into his now loose hair. He couldn't remember if the boy had even bothered to put his hair back or if something happened to the band.

Again, the same reply as Remy continued to stare at the front door. "Oui, monsieur." Finally Remy couldn't stand it any longer and had started a bleak attempt at fighting back. Trying again to beg for Logan to stop and realise what he was doing, it had made no use. "Sil vous plait, Logan. Please stop, mon amour. I love you. Do not do dis." Remy's voice had just about given out, as well as his strength, when Logan buried himself deep, into Remy's tight and blood-slickened hole, and came violently.

Grunting and panting, Logan smiled and slid himself out. Not bothering to do so much as to look down and see that he was bloody and covered in semen, he merely shrugged and pulled his pants back into their place. He stood up and swayed as he stepped over Remy, who was lying very still on the floor. "Get off the floor, Cajun. Clean yerself up." He mumbled as he made his way to the bedroom.

Waiting until Logan had completely disappeared from sight, he rolled himself onto his right side and cringed as he sat up. He hurt, and couldn't make himself move any faster than a slow, groggy pace. He wiped at his tears with his sleeve before standing up to fix his own pants. He turned around and bent down to wipe the blood from the floor, with a corner of his shirt, and then glance up to hear Logan coming back out of the bedroom.

Logan came to stand in front of Remy and blink as his drunken haze wouldn't let him focus on the young man. "Move."

"Je t'aime, Logan? How 'bout we stay home, non? You sleep, an' den we go out later, on Remy?" Remy forced himself to smile and try to forget what had just happened, moments before.

"I told you, I don't need your help, slut!" Logan had grabbed him and slammed him, again, into the wall, before releasing his 3 claws and punching Remy in the chest. His claws retracted as his fist moved away from Remy's ribcage. Logan could hear the sickening crackle as the metal sliced into the boy. A soft gurgling sound followed and Remy grabbed his chest in what had appeared to be an over-dramatization, and fell down the black swirled marble stairs.

Remy had landed on his back and turned his head to look up at Logan. Tremours came, and his body shook as he was realising what happened. The gurgling continued, and he forced himself to speak above his muted whispers for help. "Logan-- unh-- please.... don' leave me? Mon Dieu, hur's so much, cher." Remy reached out for Logan, only to be laughed at and walked away from.

"Get up, kid. You ain't no invalid." Logan called as he turned the corner, into their room. He had fallen onto the bed, longways, and passed out from the alcohol. In his mind, he knew he should have gotten up and helped Remy up, but the blackness prevailed.

Remy's tears had started falling again, and he couldn't stop them. It hurt, and he couldn't move. It was becoming harder and harder to see, and soon, his voice didn't work. Staring upward, he took one last haggard breath before giving in. He wasn't hurting anymore, and he was moving and seeing. Bidding Logan goodbye, he found himself in a dark room but hadn't been afraid.

***********************

The next morning, Monique had arrived and unlocked the door. Humming quietly to herself, he paid no attention to the body that lay on the floor, in front of the stairs. As she shut and relocked the front door, she turned around and stood, horrified, at the sight. "Monsieur Remy! Monsieur! Mon Dieu, chile! Logan! Logan!! Monsieur?! Are you here?" She dropped her groceries that she had been carrying, and ran to Remy's side.

Movement came from upstairs, and soon Logan raced out of the bedroom and down the stairs to see what was the matter. "Shit! Remy!! What the Hell happ--" He stopped in mid-word as his eyes caught sight of the 3 blood-soaked wounds on the boy's chest. Hurrying down to kneel over Remy, he was dumb-founded by Monique's questions of how it had happened, and where he had been.

"Monsieur, were y' attacked as well? Wha' happened t' Remy?" The panic in her voice was becoming overpowering in her speech. Looking up at the older man, she shivered and watched him sit back, on the bottom stair and sigh.

Logan debated showing her as he looked at his hands. He jumped slightly as he released all six of his shiny metal claws and closed his eyes at her horrified gasp.

"Is dis wha' happened t' poor Remy, monsieur? Ya-- kill-- him?" Monique sobbed and pulled Remy's lifeless body close to her chest.

Logan only nodded in shame. "I don't remember, Monique. I don't even remember comin home. It was like a dream, and until you came, I thought it was. God, Monique, I can't-- I've put him through so much. He doesn't need people snoopin around his life, after this."

She smiled and waited for him to draw his claws back in before taking own of his hands in hers. "I know, cher. Y' love him dat much. But, we gotta do somet'in. I know. We bury him under his tree, non? An' we no' say he here when de people come, oui?" Monique squeezed his hand as he nodded and stood up.

"I'll-- uhh-- go find a box for him, if you'll find him some good clothes?" Logan took a moment to collect his scattered thoughts before making his way to the basement. He sorted through packing crates and wine cases. Finding one that almost fit Remy's size, he dusted it off and dragged it back upstairs.

Monique had found Remy's nice clothes, and had begun to dress him. She had also ran a cloth over him, to clean up the blood and other fluids on his pale and frozen body. Sniffling and sobbing as she closed his eyes, she hugged him and then let Logan lift him into the box. As Logan turned around to gather the lid and hammer and nails, she quickly slipped Remy's pictures from his dresser into his pressed black, jacket pocket and wiped her eyes.

Logan leaned over and kissed Remy's cold, still lips and slid the lid into place.

*********************

As Logan finished carving the inscription into the tree, he sighed and stood up. He took a few minutes to wipe his eyes and control himself before thinking of what to say. Monique squeezed his hand, gently, and nodded. He knelt down, again, and looked at the freshly carved inscription and felt himself start to tremble with grief. The tears fell freely from both of them as he began to speak to the carving. "Look, kid, I- uh- I didn't get to tell you all that I had wanted to. When you were alive, that is. But, I want to tell you now. Remy, I'm so sorry. I know sorry doesn't excuse you lyin there, and me here. Or, the fact that we hadn't bothered for a nicer funeral, but God kid. I just--" He stopped and wiped his eyes. "I've been drunk, and I hurt ya. I'll never know just how much, or how much you could take. Please forgive me, Rem. I can't live without ya. I guess I wanted you away from bein a whore so bad, that I lost track of who you were before. I know, I promised I wouldn't hurt you, and now look. I miss you, baby. I know I never said it to you, but I love you too, kid. It's ok to hate me. Please hate me.Just know I'm sorry. You were all I ever thought of. And when I had ya, I couldn't bring myself to notice ya, until it was too late."

Monique trembled and quieted her sobs before kneeling at the end of the grave and patted the fresh earth. "Y' be fine, chile. Dey no hur' ya, no more. Tell HIM, y' were a good boy. Nous t'aime, cher. Be good, Remy." She stood up and wiped at her eyes with her trembling hands. Patting Logan's shoulder, she left him to his grief-filled thoughts and babblings.

Logan sat there for a long while, thinking. As he started to stand up, a warmth crept over his shoulders and kissed his cheek. Smiling, he whispered his goodbye and went back inside.



THE FINAL END!!!