The Streets
folder
X-Men: (All Movies) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
5,798
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men: (All Movies) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
5,798
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
Chapter Four
Sorry for the wait...been prewriting a lot of the stuff to make sure it all flows. This is a short one, but I hope more will come very soon.
*************
He’d driven off.
The one time he’d actually tried to have something normal – to seduce someone out of interest rather than need - and the prick had fucking took off. Like it wasn’t enough to just say ‘hey kid, I’m straight, knock it off’ or something. But no. He’d just ignored him and then drove off.
The night Logan left was the first night that he’d stayed up with Ororo in her loft, but he didn’t tell her why, simply curling up on the floor after they’d talked for a while about unrelated things. She probably figured it out anyway, with Logan taking off like a bat out of hell for no reason. Maybe not all of it, but he knew she’d caught him watching Logan a few times despite how hard he tried to hide it. But she didn’t try to pry in this case thankfully, simply dropping a blanket over him with a motherly smile.
The Wolverine. Most the kids in the school held him in some sort of fascinated awe. It was like the way that very small prey would watch a predator that’s already eaten its fill - knowing that they aren’t on the menu at this moment, but never sure if he’ll just snap them up for kicks.
Marie saw a different side of Logan than the other kids here. But he was the only one that actually could understand what made ‘Wolverine’ tick. Because Logan was real in a way that no one else here was. Real in the way that he himself was. He didn’t know when his feelings had shifted from a sense of camaraderie to one of attraction, even though he supposed Logan and he weren’t really friends in the classical sense to begin with. But then, that was Logan. And it was him. It was the way it worked. You hung out with people, and were maybe even friendly as hell with them. But real friendship? That was a tough commodity to hand out. Cause it meant that you trusted someone. And trusting someone meant you left an opening at your back.
The first time he’d had one of those dreams about Logan, he’d been shocked. He’d botched the next day’s training horribly, unable to concentrate. It was the first time he’d ever thought about sex and his own desire in the same sentence. It threw him. But then it happened again, and again. And eventually he grew more comfortable with it.
Xavier still looked at him as the broken little street kid that needed help. He could cram it up his ass. He was tough and damn it, he could figure this shit out. And well…there was always ‘Ro. Who he now often climbed into bed with in the wee hours of the morning with and snuggled up to like a big cat, but never would think about touching that way. Because that wasn’t what this was about. He would cuddle up to her, and open a bit of his armour up around her now and then and downright enjoyed calling her Stormy, just to see her lips thin and her snap at him to not call her by that name, even as her eyes sparkled with mirth.
So he thought about leaving, and thought about staying, and in the long run...he stayed. Fuck Logan anyway.
***
He thought that time and distance would put this little..whatever it was, to rest. For all he knew, it did the trick for Remy. For him, it just got worse. Thoughts of the kid started in dreams and then spilt from them into the waking world. For the most part he could keep those thoughts distant by doing things. Fighting in the cage. Hunting for dinner. Chopping wood. Hell, anything that kept him busy – better if it drove him to the point of exhaustion. When he was driving, the road passing under him with regular monotony, he couldn’t get the kid out of his mind. He thought of the way that those eyes had burned into his own when he’d sparred with the kid. The way that he’d found himself half hard when Remy had been under him, squirming up against him.
And his scent never seemed to leave his nostrils, no matter how many miles were between them.
He was no stranger to infatuations. Look at Jeannie, after all. He often used thoughts of her to drive the kid out of his mind. How her body had felt, going limp in his arms as he’d stabbed her though the heart. It was why he couldn’t be thinking about doing anything with Remy, because it wasn’t safe for him. Which of them was the ‘him’ he wasn’t sure of, but it couldn’t really go good for either of them.
Not to mention the kid was…well missing some vital pieces and the proud possessor of several that he shouldn’t have. Sure, the Cajun was pretty. Long eyelashes that half hid those strange eyes of his when he looked down. Soft jaw-length brown hair that had a strong reddish cast to it that made him wonder if he had a thing for redheads. Slim body covered with muscles that were compact and sleek rather than thick as they became on many men.
But Remy was definitely male. He acted male. Sounded male. Dressed male. He wasn’t one of those softer types that you could peg down right away from the way that they laughed and moved. Hell, he bet that he and Chuck and probably ‘Ro were the only ones that knew the kid’s preferences.
In the end it had been Remy’s past that had made him run more than any revulsion on his part. He’d spent the night awake reflecting on it. By dawn he realized there was no way of knowing if in his past he’d been with a man, even though he’d certainly never been attracted in current memory – but he did know that his body had responded just the same to Remy’s advances as it had to any woman’s. He’d stopped wanting to overanalyze that. Really, it didn’t matter anyways if he could learn to accept a male lover, cause the kid had his past and he didn’t want to be just one of those men.
He’d left without a real distinct plan, but he found that the more he ran, the more those images haunted him. The day came when he realized that this bug wasn’t gonna go away. Not till he talked to the Cajun. Got the rules straight between them.
Plus there was the school to consider. Xavier had contacted him three times about how they still had pressing need of him. He couldn’t ignore his duties just cause of some lust. He admired Remy – how he’d survived and how tenacious he was with things. That was it. It had to be it.
*************
He’d driven off.
The one time he’d actually tried to have something normal – to seduce someone out of interest rather than need - and the prick had fucking took off. Like it wasn’t enough to just say ‘hey kid, I’m straight, knock it off’ or something. But no. He’d just ignored him and then drove off.
The night Logan left was the first night that he’d stayed up with Ororo in her loft, but he didn’t tell her why, simply curling up on the floor after they’d talked for a while about unrelated things. She probably figured it out anyway, with Logan taking off like a bat out of hell for no reason. Maybe not all of it, but he knew she’d caught him watching Logan a few times despite how hard he tried to hide it. But she didn’t try to pry in this case thankfully, simply dropping a blanket over him with a motherly smile.
The Wolverine. Most the kids in the school held him in some sort of fascinated awe. It was like the way that very small prey would watch a predator that’s already eaten its fill - knowing that they aren’t on the menu at this moment, but never sure if he’ll just snap them up for kicks.
Marie saw a different side of Logan than the other kids here. But he was the only one that actually could understand what made ‘Wolverine’ tick. Because Logan was real in a way that no one else here was. Real in the way that he himself was. He didn’t know when his feelings had shifted from a sense of camaraderie to one of attraction, even though he supposed Logan and he weren’t really friends in the classical sense to begin with. But then, that was Logan. And it was him. It was the way it worked. You hung out with people, and were maybe even friendly as hell with them. But real friendship? That was a tough commodity to hand out. Cause it meant that you trusted someone. And trusting someone meant you left an opening at your back.
The first time he’d had one of those dreams about Logan, he’d been shocked. He’d botched the next day’s training horribly, unable to concentrate. It was the first time he’d ever thought about sex and his own desire in the same sentence. It threw him. But then it happened again, and again. And eventually he grew more comfortable with it.
Xavier still looked at him as the broken little street kid that needed help. He could cram it up his ass. He was tough and damn it, he could figure this shit out. And well…there was always ‘Ro. Who he now often climbed into bed with in the wee hours of the morning with and snuggled up to like a big cat, but never would think about touching that way. Because that wasn’t what this was about. He would cuddle up to her, and open a bit of his armour up around her now and then and downright enjoyed calling her Stormy, just to see her lips thin and her snap at him to not call her by that name, even as her eyes sparkled with mirth.
So he thought about leaving, and thought about staying, and in the long run...he stayed. Fuck Logan anyway.
***
He thought that time and distance would put this little..whatever it was, to rest. For all he knew, it did the trick for Remy. For him, it just got worse. Thoughts of the kid started in dreams and then spilt from them into the waking world. For the most part he could keep those thoughts distant by doing things. Fighting in the cage. Hunting for dinner. Chopping wood. Hell, anything that kept him busy – better if it drove him to the point of exhaustion. When he was driving, the road passing under him with regular monotony, he couldn’t get the kid out of his mind. He thought of the way that those eyes had burned into his own when he’d sparred with the kid. The way that he’d found himself half hard when Remy had been under him, squirming up against him.
And his scent never seemed to leave his nostrils, no matter how many miles were between them.
He was no stranger to infatuations. Look at Jeannie, after all. He often used thoughts of her to drive the kid out of his mind. How her body had felt, going limp in his arms as he’d stabbed her though the heart. It was why he couldn’t be thinking about doing anything with Remy, because it wasn’t safe for him. Which of them was the ‘him’ he wasn’t sure of, but it couldn’t really go good for either of them.
Not to mention the kid was…well missing some vital pieces and the proud possessor of several that he shouldn’t have. Sure, the Cajun was pretty. Long eyelashes that half hid those strange eyes of his when he looked down. Soft jaw-length brown hair that had a strong reddish cast to it that made him wonder if he had a thing for redheads. Slim body covered with muscles that were compact and sleek rather than thick as they became on many men.
But Remy was definitely male. He acted male. Sounded male. Dressed male. He wasn’t one of those softer types that you could peg down right away from the way that they laughed and moved. Hell, he bet that he and Chuck and probably ‘Ro were the only ones that knew the kid’s preferences.
In the end it had been Remy’s past that had made him run more than any revulsion on his part. He’d spent the night awake reflecting on it. By dawn he realized there was no way of knowing if in his past he’d been with a man, even though he’d certainly never been attracted in current memory – but he did know that his body had responded just the same to Remy’s advances as it had to any woman’s. He’d stopped wanting to overanalyze that. Really, it didn’t matter anyways if he could learn to accept a male lover, cause the kid had his past and he didn’t want to be just one of those men.
He’d left without a real distinct plan, but he found that the more he ran, the more those images haunted him. The day came when he realized that this bug wasn’t gonna go away. Not till he talked to the Cajun. Got the rules straight between them.
Plus there was the school to consider. Xavier had contacted him three times about how they still had pressing need of him. He couldn’t ignore his duties just cause of some lust. He admired Remy – how he’d survived and how tenacious he was with things. That was it. It had to be it.