Spin the Bottle

Summary: Logan realizes he messed up. Big.

Author’s Note: It was supposed to be a oneshot. Actually, it was supposed to just be one long chapter with a cut and dried ending (Logan and Remy mess around). But I’m an angst addict. I have to talk things to death. So sue me. Just don’t flame me.

Okay. He fucked up. Again. Big.

Remy’s stomach grumbled. Everything just felt worse when you were hungry. He let that thought guide him to the kitchen for a midnight snack.


*

Okay. He fucked up. Again. Big.

Logan was in the mood for a sandwich, and he decided to clear the plate he left on his desk before Jean came up and nagged him about attracting ants the next day. He trekked downstairs with visions of peanut butter and jelly on white in his head.


*

The kitchen was dark except for the range top light’s faint glow. Logan’s eyes adjusted quickly and he set the plate in the sink.

All Remy saw were his bare feet from below the fridge door as he bent his head inside, searching for the bread. “T’ought I wuz de only one hungry at dis…hour of de night.” His voice drifted off as Logan peered over the edge of the door. He held up the bread.

“Sandwich.”

“Kinda late.”

“Look who’s talkin’.” Remy crossed the room and opened a cabinet, retrieving the plastic package.

“Cookies.” He set some Oreos out on a plate. Logan automatically, wordlessly passed him the milk.

He was just wrapping his sandwich in a paper towel to take upstairs when Remy sighed.

“Siddown. Eat. M’almost done.”

“Take yer time.”

They snuck looks at each other as they ate. Remy was a cookie dunker. Logan hated the crusts on his bread.

“M’sorry.”

“Eh?”

“What happened last night. When ya, uh, got sick…”

Embarrassment swallowed Remy. He blinked.

“Guess I got caught up.”

“Imagine dat.”

“Sorry,” he apologized again.

“Neh. Um. Guess I could’ve given a li’l more warnin’ that I’ve got a sensitive gag reflex. Get’s worse when I hit de sauce…”

“If it wasn’t fer the positions we were in, I wouldn’t have had ta know that, Rem. Wasn’t information I would’ve considered useful til last night, y’know?”

Yet he filed it away for future knowledge.

“M’finished.” Remy gulped down the rest of the milk, scrubbed the crumbs from his hands and moved to put away the Oreos.

“Rem.” Logan’s voice stopped him. It sounded plaintive and low.

“Gonna turn in early tonight.”

“Think ya can wait a sec?” Remy faced him. Logan was staring sullenly at his hands, clenching them over the dining table.

“Got somet’in on yer mind?”

“You were right. I did like it.”


The clock ticked on the kitchen wall, but time stood still between them.

“Ya liked it.” Logan swallowed uncomfortably.

“Yeah.”

“Guess I’m flattered. Nice t’know I’m right, once in a while. But maybe ya were right befo’ ‘bout how it shouldna’ happened.” He tried to sound cavalier, but his smile was defeated.

“No!” Logan’s voice flared, the calm in the kitchen shattered. “Fuck what I said. That wasn’t the question. Ya said it yerself. I don’t wish that it never fuckin’ happened. Part of me just wishes I knew why, Rem, and what the fuck I’m supposed ta do about it now!” Remy flinched.

“Damn.” Remy leaned against the doorframe, arms folded and one ankle crossed over the other.

Words were getting him nowhere. Logan rose from the table and stalked over to the door.

“Don’ expect Remy t’have de answers to…Mmmph…” All he saw was Logan’s determined look before he closed in on him and pulled him away from the doorframe by the wrist.

His lips crashed down on his, less savagely than before, but it still stole his breath. Remy’s body tensed but he responded to him, opening for him and letting him inside. Logan pinned him, gripping his wrist and flattening Remy’s hand on his chest. Remy took the hint and reached for him, giving in to his need.

He felt surprise and satisfaction at the feel of Logan’s arm looping around his waist, bringing his body flush with his. He kissed him slowly, greedily, taking his sweet time and savoring the taste of him. Remy sighed into his mouth and embraced him, fitting himself against him.

Why the hell did they both have to make this so hard before?

Common sense be damned. Remy didn’t care about the next morning. He wouldn’t question it, wouldn’t regret, wouldn’t wish it away and wouldn’t rush through it. He was sober and Logan was turning him on, kissing him how he loved to be kissed and holding him possessively, sliding those big, warm, thick hands over him.

Remy’s hips began to move, bumping against Logan’s hardness and heat the more deeply they kissed. Logan’s moan was garbled as he nipped at Remy’s neck. He gasped at the wet rasp of his tongue lapping at him, swirling over the mark he made before.

He came up for air, short of breath. His slender hands framed Logan’s face as those rough, firm lips teased him, nipping at the corners of his mouth.

“I ain’t charmin’ you, Logan. Know dat.”

“I was mad before. I knew it then.” Then, “Ya can take yer clothes off, now…”

Instead, they stumbled upstairs; Remy hoped that no one heard two sets of footsteps thudding their way into Logan’s room.

They fumbled, falling into each other in the effort to get close. Logan was untried and unsure in partnering with a man, but he wanted Remy.

For Remy, that was enough. He wasted no time in relieving him of the horrid flannel pajama pants, balling them up and chucking them away; he resisted the urge to burn them with an “accidental” charge…Logan chuckled.

“Eager?”

Remy’s only response was a smile meant to tempt him, and he took Logan’s hand, guiding it toward his crotch. Remy was already hard and twitched beneath his cupped palm. Logan squeezed him experimentally, and Remy’s eyes clouded with lust.

“Can I take that as a yes?” There was no more room for speech when Remy leaned down and devoured his mouth, and then Logan fondled him in earnest.

This time, Logan and Remy slowed down, easing themselves down onto cool cotton sheets. Logan drank in and consumed the textures and scents and tastes of Remy’s body. The Cajun sank deeply into his embrace and slid over him, making them both feverish. Logan’s face strained and twisted with tension that turned into pleasure as he simply…let go. Remy’s hands and mouth explored his body, finding all of the secret places he missed in the den. Logan’s fingers once again tangled in his hair, but he thrust upward into his mouth this time, riding him at the pace he set. Watching the ruddy column of flesh disappear over and over between his lips was erotic, matched only by the luxury of him coddling him in that sultry wetness.

Pressure built within him, and Logan suppressed a shout, allowing himself shuddering groans of completion as he came. He heard the wet swallows in Remy’s throat and felt his flat tongue easing against him, cleaning him.

“That was…fuck,” Logan huffed as Remy lay beside him and rested his hand over his taut stomach, stroking it with his thumb.

“Gonna make dis Cajun boy blush, chere.”

Logan’s chest rumbled with quiet laughter. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he peered at Remy.

“What?”

“Think my turn’s up, now.”

“Don’ feel like a do-over?”

“I didn’t say that.” Remy felt a shiver of excitement as Logan pulled him beneath his solid bulk. Remy was still tumescent, and Logan was stirring back to life against him, making sane thought leave his head. “I need ya ta teach me a few more of the rules, Rem.” Remy moaned with need when Logan’s hips began to move and his mouth settled over his. “And I wanna hear ya come.”

Remy strained against him, limbs twining around that addictive body and…proceeded to teach him.

FIN.