Memory Lane

Title: Memory Lane
Rating: PG-13, imagery and language
summary: Logan has a therapy session
disclaimers: All X-Men characters are property of Marvel and Stan
Lee.
Pairing: Logan/Xavier


Memory Lane

"Just try and relax." No matter how much the sentence is said, it
never has the effect it should. This man is about to go waltzing
through my mind, a journey I barely even boldly go on. There is so
much shit rattling around up there, relaxing doesn't even have room
to take a seat.

"Logan I need you to focus."

I take a deep breath and try to clear my mind. This needs to be
done. I hate it with the passion of a possessed mad man, but I need
to know. I need to know what was stolen from me when those bastards
made me their guinea pig. I try to to make myself comfortable and
take another steadying breath. I feel Xavier maneuver his chair next
to me and I close my eyes. A warm hand reaches out and lays gently
on my shoulder. I almost flinch away from the touch but quickly
squash the reaction. Of course Xavier notices and quickly removes
his hand. I feel a small twinge of regret and open my eyes.

"Sorry 'bout that Professor. I just aint used to people touchin' me
in a...casual, manner." Hell, I ain't used to people touching me
outright, unless it's to do damage.

Xavier raises a hand. "Please, Logan there is nothing for you to
explain. I understand your need for personal space."

I feel a rush of what I guess is relief. His voice is so steady,
almost sort of reassuring. No wonder these kids place all their
trust in the man. Despite his handicap, the man has a visible
strength. His body language practically screams it at you. The firm
set of his shoulders, perfect posture, his warm, receptive facial
features; everything you would expect from a man in his position.
Perhaps the most striking thing about the guy is his eyes. Those
damn things should be registered as lethal, if they ain't already.
Xavier could strike a man dead with nothing more than a quick
glance.

Like right now, I can feel him burning them baby blues right into my
skin. I shudder under the intense gaze and turn my head to look at
him. His eyebrows are scrunched in what could be concern. I open my
mouth to give a witty remark but my breath is lodged in my throat. I
feel like an idiot with my jaw hanging, so I snap it shut. The man
throws me yet another save by dragging up a smile from somewhere.

"You know Logan, there is really no rush. Perhaps we could continue
this at another time?"

The honesty in his voice almost makes my heart skip a beat or two. I
don't know when I first started to realize my attraction for the
guy. One day I just found myself watching him while he went about
his business. Every dirty thought that was conceivable to the human
mind made their rounds through my brain. The urge to rip off his
crisp business suit and ravish every inch of his prone body damn
near made me rush the man right there. Only One-Eye's bad sense of
timing had the power to throw off my out-of-control libido. Looking
back now, that was probably a good thing.

I decide to flash Xavier a toothy grin for a little
convincing. "Never put off 'til tomorrow, Charles." Yeah, it's corny
as all hell but its what I got. There's a shy twinkle in those
breath-taking eyes and I've just about decided I'd tread through
molten lava for another glimpse of that _expression. Christ, since
when did I become such a raging sap? I close my eyes and wait for
the tingle on the back of my neck that signals the start. I feel it
a split-second before a dark blanket is thrown over my mind.

Where did this pain come from? Why can't I breathe? My eyes aren't
seeing straight, just shapes and colors. Are those voices? My mind
is screaming to run but my body is having trouble moving. The pain
is worse. The voices are grating on my ears. They sound pleased,
laughter. Oh God, my skin is on fire! I lash out, swinging at
anything, looking for a way to escape the pain. My own screams ring
in my ears from somewhere far away.

*Flash*

It's cold. I'm sans clothes and waist deep in snow. Can you get
frostbite on your dick? There's smells, nature. I stink of
chemicals. I have no idea where I am and I'm in no hurry to find
out. There's red in the snow. My hands are bleeding and sore. I look
down to see why.

*Flash*

So much pale skin. Stretching and writhing around solid muscle. Slim
hips pushing back with force.

*Flash*

Helicopters buzzing overhead. Lights everywhere and I'm in the
middle. Gun fire sounding at every turn. Death is choking out the
air. Grown men are screaming and drawing their final gasps on their
last day alive. Bombs scream angry through the skies. I have seen
hell.

*Flash*

God, this is heaven. A beautiful body is trembling underneath me. I
can taste the smell of sex on my tongue. A strong torso arches up
toward me. A soft moan like the greatest harmony ever. Only one word
is whispered, breathless and thick with lust. "Charles..."

No, no, fuck me!, no! I leap from my place next to Xavier like my
dick just caught fire. I swear, if I don't die at this very second,
I'll never make it out of here with a slice of the dignity I once
had. I don't even wanna chance a look at the man who just witnessed
his starring role in one of my many sordid fantasies. If I
concentrate hard enough I think I'll be able to feel all the mutual
respect he once had for me get shoved right out the fucking window.

"Logan..." Even that tiniest breath of air sounds like a blow horn
to my ears. I think I'm gonna collapse. My knees are shaking
something fierce and the rest of me is swaying like I just cleaned
out Harry's tavern. Suddenly, I feel warmth pushing up against my
back. A strong hand is pressed into my spine to keep me from being
laid out on the carpet. Where the hell did he come from? I jump away
from the contact and whirl around to face the other man.

Xavier's look shows some deep concern and I suspect, fear is in
there somewhere. Those eyes are on me, drilling through my skin to
flash fry the jell-o that my insides have been reduced to. I feel
like a kid that just got caught by his grandparent, jerking off.
Charles is quiet for the longest heartbeat I think I've ever known
existed. The rest of the world seems to have ground to a halt around
us. He takes a shaky breath before starting.

"Logan, is something wrong?"

I think I just shit myself.

"Wrong! Fuck me Freddy, Professor did ya pop a vessel? Did ya miss
what was in my mind?"

"No, Logan I saw it quite clearly."

"Then why the hell are ya askin' me?!" My heart and brain are
running a mile a minute.

"Logan please, it's alright. I see nothing wrong with what just
happened. I have been fully aware of your fantasizing about me for
quite some time."

I got a feeling my heart just stopped. Now I know I'm gonna pass out.

"What?" Where did that noise come from? The Professor's got the look
of a cat that just swallowed a very large canary.

"I've simply been waiting for you to come forward."

"...What?" There's that noise again. Seeing as to how my brain is no
better than warm mush, that is the best retort I can come up with.
Xavier keeps up his brilliant smile, the one that makes me want to
throw him down and eat him alive. He brings himself closer toward
me. The son of God himself couldn't revive me from the current state
of shock that has me rooted to this spot on the floor. That warm
hand is back, brushing against my skin and causing an involuntary
convulsion of all my senses. I snap out of my stupor and put some
desperately needed space between the two of us.

"Wait…hold on. Xavier, this can't be what...you...I...what that
was...Christ, man. This ain't right."

I want to leave but a hand on my arm is holding me back. I look down
into pools of deep azure and the sight travels straight to my groin.
Bless whatever deity decided to grant this man a pair of eyes that
can be so open. A human being has never looked more beautiful than
the one staring up at me with a dark storm in his gaze. A shiver
runs up my spine and I know he's felt it. The chiseled features
soften to an almost childish joy.

Before I even realize it, I'm bending down to brush my lips against
his.

I bolt upright in bed, the rapid loss of blood flow to my brain
jolts me out of sleep. It takes me a split second to notice the
furious monster underneath my sheets. I groan and drop back onto the
mattress. Another fucking dream. I don't think I can take much more
of this. I know something is gonna have to be done, sometime. Right
now I got a steel rod in my boxers and I don't think its gonna
disappear all by itself.

END