Memory Lane

Title: Sleep and Surrealism
Rating: PG-13, language
Pairing: LO/PRO eventually, if ya dont like...yer welcome ta not read.
Disclaimer: All characters are property of Marvel and their appropriate creators. This fic is for personal entertainment only. Anyone choosing to ready is asked to leave a review. Please, even if it's just to burn me for my choice of pairings. Any bone is a good bone fer this pup.


"Logan! Wake Up!" I snap my head up and instantly regret it as whiplash bites the back of my neck. It doesn't last long but enough for me to get irritated real quick.

"Logan, what is your problem?"

Damn, fell asleep during a briefing. Granted it was just Cyclops going off on one of his tirades so I'm not too broken up about it. I throw the guy a snarl but the effect is kinda lost as a huge yawn interrupts. I hear a snicker come from somewhere and turn to see Bobby cover his mouth. This time I'm sucessful in getting out a convincing growl. The kid has enough sense to shut his trap and turn his attention back to ol' Fearless.

"So, yer panties just extra tight today 'er did I do somethin'?"

Now Bobby's not holding back as a loud burst of laughter shoots across the room. The Scout throws me a pretty nasty look but I just shrug him off with another yawn. Sleep hasn't been coming to me too easy the last few nights. It would be annoying if I weren't enjoying the reason for my lack of shut- eye. I know I shouldn't, it's wrong in so many ways that the only sleep I've gotten has been counting them down. In a way, the guy is sorta my "boss". He's all about etiquette and proper conduct and that can just grate on my nerves. He's handicapped, although that's not really something that would deter me and he doesn't seem to bothered by it. Despite my showing to the contrary, I can get pretty creative when it comes to getting what I want.

And I just drifted off again. Now, everyone sitting at the damn table is staring right at me. This aint working. I roll my eyes and push up from the table. I'm walking out the door when Cyclops clears his throat.

"Where are you going? I didn't dismiss anyone."

I turn to him. "Let's be real here Scott. It's gonna take a divine act a' God ta make anythin' ya might have ta say interestin' ta me. I'm tired, I'm that far from pissed and I doubt anyone wants me around when my shit level peaks. I'm gonna try and get some rest. If anything life threatening happens, let me know."

With that, I'm out the door and on my way to someplace quiet.

At first I head back to my room figuring that would be the easiest place to grab some shut-eye. I only get about halfway there before I hear the shouting. Sounds like Rogue and Gambit are having another one of their love/hate fests. I know I cant sleep through that mess, Rogue's got a scream that would make the dead wet the...grave? I grumble and turn around in search of some other more, peaceful place.

Ok, this is getting ridiculous and I'm getting pissed. Every single room in this house seems to have already been claimed by the noisiest people. The garage has Scooter playing with the cars. Someone's blaring the TV in the rec room. Even the library has kids slamming around books for their classes. The kitchen is like Grand Central, with everyone and their lice making rounds. I've just about exhausted every single room when suddenly, I come across Xavier's study. I know for a fact the man isn't here. Storm mentioned he was off at some meeting and would be gone for a while. Guess it couldn't hurt nothing, and I'm two different shades of desperate by now. I give a quick scan to make sure no one is around and quickly slip through the door.
The instant I'm inside I'm hit with the unmistakeable smell of all things Xavier. My body immediately begins to relax and my eyelids droop. Before I pass out on the floor, I manage to stumble to one of the couches the man keeps here. I flop down unceremoniously and kick my feet up on the arm rest. Damn, this guys got fine taste in furniture. The leather feels like butter and it's got just the right degree of firmness. Before I realize it, I'm drifting off. For the first time in a long time, I have no dreams.

A firm hand on my shoulder drags me back from the depths of my comfortable stupor. I give an irritated growl and bat at the offending appendage, rolling over to try and bury myself in the soft couch.

"I apologize for disturbing your comfort Logan but I am loath to leave you sleeping on a couch all night."

My eyes fly open and I nearly bash my head on the arm in my attempt to sit up. I finally manage to right myself before I'm faced with a pair of rather amused blue eyes. I run my hand over my face and discover I had been drooling in my sleep. Now I feel like an ass. I can only imagine the picture I made, slobbering all over the man's likely expensive office furniture.

"Dont worry about the upholstery, it can be cleaned."

I give a mental growl and out of the corner of my eye I see Xavier flinch. I feel a wave of guilt and drop my head, muttering some apology. He sweeps his eyes back to me and smiles.

"No harm done, I assure you. Might I ask why when I arrive home from my business I find you asleep in study?"

The question is one asked out of concern. I have my own room and I guess he wants to know why I'm not using it. I yawn and answer him.

"It was the only quiet room. But yer back now so I'll just leave ya ta yer business."

I stand up and move to leave. A warm hand on my arm stops me dead and I look down at the Professor. His face is a mask of careful regard.

"You have not been sleeping well have you Logan?"

I look away from the man and clear my throat. "No, not really."

Please don't ask why. "Why is that?"

Shit. "Dreams."

Why the hell am I being so honesty with the guy? "Not nightmares?"

I forget how perceptive the guy is. He noticed I didn't say I was having nightmares or flashbacks. Just dreams. I dont answer and after a moment Xavier pulls his hand away. I'm almost tempted to ask him to put it back. Of course since I aint got those kinda balls I just start walking away. As soon as I open the door I hear it, the sounds of screaming and glass shattering. You gotta be shittin' me, those two are still at it? I groan and slump against the wall.
Just as I resign myself to another night of lost sleep I hear the whisper of Xavier's chair next to me. He gives an obvious sigh and shakes his head.

"Will those two ever resolve this?"

I make a noise somewhere between a snort and a chuckle and shrug my shoulders. "Ya ask me, I think they get off on it."

Xavier gives me a repremanding look but there's no missing the glint of merriment in his eyes. This time I do laugh but a huge yawn betrays me. Xavier makes a soft humming noise and places his hand on the small of my back.

"Might I ask a favor of you?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "What kinda favor?"

"Follow me."

Then, he starts drifting down the hall going the opposite way of my room. I give another groan and start to trail behind him.

It doesn't take long to figure out where we're going and the beginnings of panic start to settle in. I shut my eyes and pray that we aren't going where I think we are. No such luck as we stop right outside the Professor's room. He opens the door and rolls inside and I have no choice but to follow. Inside, he turns a lamp on to a dim setting, being courteous enough to remember my sensitive eyes. I stand at a distance with my hands in my pockets and observe my new surroundings.
I have never been in the Professor's room before but it looks pretty much the way I thought it would. Everything is impecably neat and in it's place. I do my best not to snort and instead occupy myself with studying the pattern on the carpet. I hear Xavier rummage through his drawers and then he enters the private bathroom next to his room. I wind up alone for a few minutes but I remain where I am. It feels too intrusive to go wandering around his room.
Finally, he emerges from the bathroom having dressed himself in pajamas. He motions me closer to the bed and I move as if on auto-pilot. He pulls back the comforter and sheets.

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind terribly helping me into bed? This is something Hank usually helps me with but he is in Washington at a conference."

Am I imagining things or did I just see Xavier blush. I rub my slightly sweaty hands on my jeans and nod.

"Yeah, I guess. Um, how...uh...how do I...?"

An almost shy smile lights his face and he gently winds an arm around my shoulders. I get the hint and slip an arm around his back and the other underneath his thighs. After a silent signal from the man I lift him up and move him onto the bed. He's heavier than I thought he would be but it doesn't bother me. I set him down gently and straighten up. He adjusts himself and leans down to pull up the blankets. I stand by for a bit and fold my arms in front of me feeling awkward. Something on his nightstand catches my attention and I narrow my eyes as I read the title of the book.

"Diary of a Genius?"

Xavier follows my gaze and smiles. "Yes, it's the autobiography of Salvador Dali."

"The Persistance of Memory painter, right?"

A surprised look crosses Xavier's features and I feel a twinge of irritation. "I aint just a pretty face Chuck."

"No of course not. I apologize, I didn't mean to offend you. I just was not aware you held an interest in surrealistic art."

"I dont, I just know'a him." I answer with a shrug. "Didn't really think he would be yer style either."

Xavier gives another light smile and I feel my heart stutter for a second. Never knew he could actually look...cute, is really the only word I can think of but I'll be damned if I would ever tell him that. His eyes wander over to a corner of his room and I look over to see a painting hanging near the window. After a close look I recognize it as a Dali work.

"Vision of Hell, one 'o his later works. Combined his earlier Surrealistic style with the classic religious mysticism he developed a likin' fer."

Xavier nodded. "I had no idea you knew so much about art Logan."

Again, I shrug. "Me either. Just one 'o those things I know 'bout but got no idea where I learned it."

I hear him sigh softly. "I know it is frustrating for you to not remember everything about your life. I do wish there was a way for me to help you."

"Dont worry ' bout it Chuck. Aint up ta ya ta save the whole world. Way I see it, I'll remember stuff when it's time fer me ta."

"I suppose that's true. So, are there any other artists you have knowledge of?"

I'm thankful for the change in subjects and happily share whatever tedious facts I can remember. It's some time later before our discussion is interrupted by a yawn from the Professor.

"Oh, excuse me Logan."

"That's alright, it is gettin' kinda late. Guess I should mosey on back ta my room. "Night Chuck."

I'm almost to the door when he calls out to me. "Logan wait. It seems that there is still a great deal of commotion coming from Rogue and Remy's room. You and I both know that any hopes of sleep will be non-existent if you go back to your room."

I sigh. "Yeah, guess that's true. I could always crash on the couch in the rec room."

"Or, you could remain here."

I nearly swallow my tongue as I turn back to the man reclining comfortably on the bed. His hands are folded in his lap and there is a hopeful expression on his face. A nervous laugh comes out of my chest.

"That's a good one Chuck. Didn't think ya had a sense o' humor."

"I can assure you that it is no joke. I believe you will be able to sleep better if you are removed from the drama going on next door to you. We really can't afford you going without adequate rest. Please, I would feel better if you slept here."

For I guess the next couple of minutes I find it beyond my power to even talk. I open and close my mouth a few times like some fish trying to breath out of water. Of course, not every part of me is taken aback by the Professor's offer. In fact, my cock is quite interested in a night spent in the man's bed.

"You know I don't bite Logan." He quips with a smile.

'But I do.' Oh God, my dick just got even harder. Now I'm desperate to just get the hell out of this room before I wind up taking a run at Xavier. The man cocks his head at me in a way that finally pries me free from my spot and gets me walking on numb legs toward the bed. This is fine, it's all good. I mean he offered, that makes it alright doesn't it? Sweet Jesus, please don't let him see my hard on. Please, please, please. Before I know it I'm standing on the other side of the bed, waiting for my cue from the man. He just smiles.
I strip off my shirt, careful to leave my jeans safely on my hips. I crawl into the bed, which is so big that even if I slept in the middle there would still be a reasonable amount of space between us. I turn my back to him and promptly shut my eyes muttering a quick goodnight. I hear him breathe out slowly before I feel an impossibly warm hand land on the bare skin of my shoulder. Did these pants just shrink two sizes?

"Sleep well, Logan."

Then the hand is gone and I hear the crinkling of pages from a book. A book about an artist who dealt with surrealism; somehow I actually manage to appreciate the irony. Right now my life couldn't get anymore surrealistic if a big pink elephant squeezed out of the vents and danced salsa. This last thought makes me chuckle as my mind slowly muddles in the dark sleep draping over my mind.

TBC...with the right encouragement...(hint, hint)