To Love...

Disclaimer: All X-Men people belong to Marvel and 20th Century Fox. Nothing’s mine here except the convoluted plot. Not for money, only for fun… kind of fun the X-Men movies will never provide :)
Verse: X-Men the Movie. This is post-X1 and pre-X2. Assumptis Los Logan came back from Alkali Lake and has been staying at the mansion for awhile now. Some other minor alterations (see notes at the end of story)
Summary: Jean POV. She is drunk, she is depressed and she is angry… and she’s about to take it out on someone.
*Warnings*: Spanking. And Slash. PLEASE skip if its not your thing.
Feedback: If you enjoyed the story, please be kind enough to let me know… cyndrarae@yahoo.com
Author’s Notes: Words in *..* are to stress on them. And lines in //..// are thoughts, or mental communication.
---------------------------------------------------------------


Ever get the feeling you found what you wanted, but lost what you were really looking for?

Like your lover’s gone for good… when he’s standing right next to you? Like he’d kiss you but he’s not who you kissed that first night of endless stars? And no one else sees what you see… not even the Professor… and you keep kissing, when all you wanna do is push him away… and scream to get his fucking hands off you?

Yep. No doubt about it.
A) He’s a shapeshifter. B) He’s a clone. C) I’m paranoid schizophrenic. D) All of the above.

Ignore me. I’m rambling. I do that when I’m drunk… as I’m currently in the process of realizing. And its bringing to surface all I’ve suppressed and denied… my trove of angst and pain and suicidal tendencies.

I am Jean Grey. MD Neurology. Telekinetic, telepathic, neurotic. Hey can you blame me? For the longest time I’ve held on… by fragile strands of unconditional love that once bound my sanity together. But I cant anymore. The strands are unravelling, and I’m losin my grip. I’m falling. Slowly but surely. Everything’s wrong. And dank. And dark. And depressing. Everything fucking sucks.

Too quiet… as a graveyard. It was never so quiet for so long, been four months now… they say it gets better with time. Wrong, it only gets worse. Music died. All that’s left is noisereecreeching… ugly drawling. Empty promises, meaningless words. And hello - slow motion? Like a really bad movie that knows no end. All black and no white… and greys. Patches of fucking red. I need another drink.

“Jean.”
Logan. Somehow, he fits. Logan in black and grey and no white… makes sense. No overt displays of concern. No surprise on his stone face to see my what… eleventh vodka with lime? Just. Slides in next to me, faces the bar, eye contact comfortably minimal. The question I think I should be asking is how he found me but frankly I don’t much care.

“Nice joint.”
“Sir its late and we need to close. If you could please take this lady home?”
“Scotch. Rocks.”
I always did like Logan.

He doesn’t try to fill the silent void in me… knows he cant. He’s not gonna probe my psyche like Charles would do, nor does he know squat to sweet talk like Ro or Warren. And he’s definitely not him… he aint no Cyclops.

What are you doing in this seedy bar this late all by yourself Jean? Why didn’t you report in Jean? What if something happened Jean? How can you be so irresponsible Jean?

Nope. None of that. He’ll wait till I’m done drownin myself in alcohol, or pass out, whichever is first… then take me home. To my boyfriend. Cyclops. Field Commander Cyclops. Fearless leader of the X-Men Cyclops. Pain in the fucking ass Cyclops.

And he wont do it out of the pure goodness of his heart. He wont do it because he wants to bed the good doctor he’s had his eyes on ever since he opened them on my table that night. He *might* do it partly because he cares. Okay fine maybe its more than just basic caring… but I know he’s *definitely* doing it to catch but a moment… of that delicious look of envy… and rage on Cyclops’ proud face… when he learns that it was Logan who found me. Logan who brought me home from my wild night out.
Logan. And not him.

For all his ageless maturity and composure of years, Logan sure can play the typical beefhead to perfection when he wants to. He would do most anything to get a rise from his arch rival. Apparently I aint the only one in need to see that stoic android with a joystick up his ass be human now and then.

“Jean!!!”
Mumble of the devil.
I turn around to look into those mesmerizing two beautiful blue… *yeh right*.
“What the hell are you doing…. ?”
You know this kid used to be the sweetest thing back when… oh darn it. Right now he’s frozen to his spot. Because he sees who I’m with. Pure hatred and jealousy and suspicion smeared all over his… smooth… blank face. Like it wasn’t enough I cant see his eyes… he had to go systematically erasing all his facial expressions as well. No expressions, no lines. No wonder he looks eight years younger to me and that number is too high!
Bastard.

And the silence… did I mention its driving me insane?

I sense the heat from Logan as he stares back at the man he just *loves* to hate. His face is blank too. No scowl, no anger… nothing. I’m getting like a mental smirk off him… Okay so he‘d taken off on Cyclops’ bike again. There we go… the seethe factor isnt just about ol’ Jeanie after all. Why am I not surprised?

“What are you doing here?”
“What’s it look like?”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“Then don’t look at me.”
How does Logan know who he’s looking at from behind his visor? an lan lets go home.”
“Later.”

So not in the mood to give you another glorious moment of triumph oh great commander.
“Everyone is so worried about you. Why did you block Charles out?”
//Look who’s talking//

That silences him. Though not for long. Almighty Cyclops who must always get the last word in… so he decides to go rhetoric.
“Jean you’re acting strange. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Everything’s wrong. Nothing’s the way it should be. The way it was. And like *hell* you don’t know that already. But I don’t say that.

“Jean look at me. I… come home with me… please.”
I smile my sarcastic best at him as I continue to nurse my double vodka with lime. Such passion in his imploring… such *emotion*… seems like the only thing that evokes any kind of emotions in him anymore is - Threat. Threat to his school. Threat to his mentor. Threat to his status as field leader of the X-Men. And very surprisingly, threat to his position in my life too… still… threat that goes by the name of Logan. And Wolve.
.

“Go on home. I’ll come later with Logan.”
“What?”
“You heard her.”
“Stay out of this Wolverine.”
“You’re the one not needed in here Cyclops.”
Enough stress is given to the comicbook names to make me smile. Am I tipsy? Hell no. Mmm..maybe. Funny thing this mutation of the mind… way too many grey cells to kill if you wanna get *really* drunk.

“Another double vodka with lime Angelo.”
Logan showed off his adamantium assets a while ago and was rewarded a scotch on the house for pai pain… Angelo doesn’t argue anymore. *Bo-oring*
“Jean stop it. You’re coming with me right now.”
And he grabs my arm.
“Let go Cyclops. This is not your mission to command and I am not some… battalion of yours to order around. This is my life and I’ll do with it as I please you understand?”

He looks suitably hurt.
“I’m not ordering you as a… a commander. And is this not *our* life? Together?”
“Apparently not.”
Logan. Not me! I was just about to sway in. As usual. But his remark makes me giggle. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know why. It wasn’t even funny. Was it?

Suddenly Cyclops decides his intoxicated girlfriend isnt such a priority. Proving his alpha-ness is. So he dumps my aching arm and turns to Logan.
“Which part of stay away from my girl did you not understand?”
“Which part of go on home I’ll come later with Logan did *you* not understand?”
“Wolverine I’m warning you…”
“Bite me.”
“Oh extremely glib! So that’s your secret with the ladies.”

Okay at this point I gotta tell you how loud the volume of this confrontation is… Not at all. Logan and Cyclops are obviously from the same school of steel-cold smart-ass whispering creeps when it comes to arguing (Of which Charles would be principal might I add). I’m afraid abusive language and swear words might soon follow, good thing Angelo had the civic sense to sneak out and away.

“What gives you the right to interfere in our lives?”
“Hey I’m just respecting the lady’s wishes, you should give it a try sometime yourself.”
“Jean is my girl Logan.”
“No she’s not.”
Oh I bet his thoughts are totally scrambled now. He gives Logan a sharply accusing look.
“Jean’s a woman. You’re a *kid*. Too much of a kid to keep her happy and too much of a kid to do the grown-up’s job Chuck’s given to ya due to *lack of resources*. Face it one-eye. You’re way out of your league here.”

Okay that must hurt. But then, one thing Cyclops is really really good at, it’s the art of hiding. Masking. Cyclops the X-Man has his walls built so high, no mere mutant could bring them down with words… spiteful or otherwise. Truthful or otherwise.

“You’re jealous arent ya old man?”
Logan still calm as Canada. Relatively speaking of course.
“Jealous of what? She wants to be with me not you or didn’t you get it the first time?”
Subtle whiff of growing lust… my air is heavy with it.
“Look, Jean needs her space right now and all that shite. So why don’t you be a good boy and leave her the hell alone.”
“If I needed your advice I’d clobber it out of you Logan. And no way am I leaving her alone with you.”
“Jean you wanna go home with this dick?”
“Nope.”
“There you go. Dickhead.”
“No *you* go you *ancient* jackass. I’m here to take Jean home and I am not leaving without her.”
“God Jeannie, you really know how to pick ‘em don’t ya?”
“Oh is that why you’re so hot and bothered? Because but shd pid pick *me* Logan, not you.”
“And we’re back at the my-girl-your-girl square again? Kids today - so one-dimensional.”
“Sucks to be taking orders from a *kid* then doesn’t it?”
“How do you control this one doc… a good whipping’s due don’t you think?”

Control? Hmm…

“Go fuck yourself Logan cos no one else here will I promise you that.”
“Seriously doc, agreed I’ve been away from civilization awhile but… seein you… I’d say you liked *real* men, not pretty little children playing G.I Joe…”

And this is the last I hear before I tune out… men and their macho complexes. *Old*. I’m still left pondering the control thing. Once upon a time yeh, maybe I had some control, some say, some fucking right damnit. Once upon a time, I had this sweet, loving boyfriend who couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t in my arms… who would seek my counsel with every decision he made no matter how big or how small… he had me choosing the color of socks for him for fuck’s sake… er… cos of the red and everything. Point is, he needed me. A lot. And I loved it.
And I miss it.

There was a time I’d never be by myself. In the bathroom, in the cerebro, on the moon… I was the voice in his head just like he was the rhythm of my heart… eternally connected by telepathic strands of unconditional love. Now I am all alone… while he’s obviously found something else to occupy his big stupid head with.

And this is when I realise the noises behind me are more than two men squabbling over me and a bike. They’re fighting.
Oh bother.

I turn around to see the love of my ex-life kicking the legs out from under Logan and the latter going down, only to have his opponent pounce on him a second time. This time Logan’s ready and getting his hands and feet in front of himself right on time, grabs hold of a flying Cyclops and flings him over himself. The fearless leader crashes into the wall opposite and brings it down in splinters. Furne hee here has seen its last night. I’m only glad they arent using their mutant powers. Yet.

Telepathy might open doors to people’s minds, but I still gotta walk through them. Don’t do that often, mankind is way too complex. Of course proximity over a period of time makes it almost automatic. Unintended. And hence is how I keep picking vibes from the likes of Ro and Warren now and then. My association with Logan is fairly new… but he’s sure loud and clear… and too fucking liberal with street lingo I barely comprehend. Cyclops on the other hand…

I can only guess what he’s feeling, never realized how much I’d come to depend on the seeming permanence of our minds once so perfectly bonded. Hell I’d like to think I’ve garnered enough years of togetherness to recognize most, if not all his sounds, and twitches…

Anger, yes - For Logan. Hatred, yes - For Logan. Passion, yes - For the fight. Determination, yes - To win. Cause? Love?
Jean who?
He doesn’t even know what he’s fighting for anymore. Slipped back into automation, functioning only to execute, and strategise, meet deadlines, to win. To please his master. Could you possibly hurt me more Cyclops? Could you if you tried?

Still remember how casual he sounded asking me about the blinds… and how dumb I was to not understand something was wrong there and then. Imagine my surprise when once in the middle of a routine patrol, I reach out to caress his mind… and instead find myself ramming against a brick wall.
“Oh that. I was just experimenting baby. It really works huh?”
I had smiled and accepted his distracting embrace, deep inside feelin him holding back all the time… aver ver since. Go on say it out loud.. some *fucking* telepath I am.

Okay then I tried the old-fashioned way. I tried talking to him.
“Its nothing, I just need a little time alone, by myself. Surely you can understand that?”
Okay. Sure. Absolutely. A little time… that turned into four months of deafening silence.
I tried talking to him again.
“Jean aren’t you being a little childish about this? I mean what is this compulsion to always be connected? Don’t you trust me?”
“No I… I trust you…”
“Good. I’m right here sweetheart.”
Oh Yeh. Right here. Miles apart, even when he’s right here.

So maybe I *am* being childish. Maybe I am being unfair wishing to invade his mind… how come he never rejected it before, hell he’s the one who wanted the link in the first place.

What the hell happened four months ago?

Of late there are simply way too many missions he goes off to… stays away for days on end. Why does he hold on if he doesn’t love me anymore? Why does he get possessive when Logan comes around? He still makes love like he really means it, his kisses tremble with same intensity as before. But not being able to touch his mind makes me wonder what he’s hiding…

Oooh, girlfriend readin all your thoughts… how *creepy* is that?

I taught him how to put up the shields and now they’re up all the time. Don’t wanna invade his privacy for God’s sake. All I fucking want is to… to… damn it. I want to stop crying myself to sleep each night. I want to not feel my sanity slipping way I know it is. I want my boyfriend back. That’s what I want. And the bar is completely destroyed now.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”
They spill my drink. Logan apologizes to me telepathically. How sweet.
//Tell me to stop Jean. Or your boyfriend’s gonna get really hurt.//
Its quite a fight and Logan’s definitely the one with a huge advantage, what with his rapid healing and all. Cyclops is tirin himself out but he still isnt using his optic blasts. Something tells he doesn’t plan to. Always the loyalist. Always the leader.
Always in control.

//No.//
Cyclops gets past the bigger guy’s defenses as Logan’s distracted by what I said.
//Ughh! No what?//
//Don’t stop.//
Okay he’s surprised. And so is Cyclops. Did I mention I’m cc’ing him on all this correspondence?
//Make him cry Logan.//
This time Cyclops is the distracted one. Big time. The punch plows straight into his chiseled jaw and he’s spun, but I think its more with what he hears me say next.
//Spank him//
//WHAT??//
“WHAT??”

They stop. They both stop and stare at me, not sure they heard what they heard. I so hate it when I have to spell things out for morons slow on the uptake.
//You heard me Logan… I want to see him cry… make him cry. Do it Logan. For me.//
There. Doesn’t get any clearer than that.
And he’s laughin. Cyclops is laughin.

“Knock it off Grey.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re serious?”
“No she’s not serious you moron! She’s angry, is all. I… I understand… just… just… ”
“Oh very glib one-eye.”
“Fuck off Logan! Jean you’re too drunk to make funnies right now.”
“Who said she’s jokin? At least I hope you’re not!”
“And you should just quit you *canine* cos you have no sense of funny at all!”
“Didn’t you guys hear me?”

Something in my tone… I got the gift you see… and the jeering ends.
“Here’s your chance Logan…”
“WHA-WHAT THE FUCK? WHA-H??”
“Do you want it or not?”
“Oh like I’m just gonna let him…”
“Hell I want it! Never wanted anything more all m’ah damn life!”
“Hah! In your dreams!”
“That are about to come true bub.”

Sweet Jesus. I gotta roll my eyes.
“Don’t you get it you guys? I mean it!”
I haveir eir attention now.
“Cyclops… I’m drunk and you’re right I’m pissed, and I have no idea what I’m doin. So LEAVE… if you wanna save yourself… just leave.”
….
….


“Jean?”
….

For a moment there, I feel like he’s breaking, but no. All is silence still. His expressions (or semblance of any) are gone. His spine is rigid, is stance defensive. He’s not leaving. My baby, so predictable.

//Go ahead Logan. Show me what a MAN you are… and what a kid he is.//

Logan is staring at me with an expression of complete shock… which isn’t much really. His face might still be stone but his heart is thumping away with immense intrigue and… exhilaration? When he looks back at Cyclops, its just in time to see him going for his visor…
“Shit!”
The red blast of fury zips across the room and Logan just barely manages to dive out of harm’s way. And then he’s flying through the air towards Cyclops, crushing his entire weight into the younger man, pinning him to the ground beneath himself… hands tucked safely away from the fatal weapon.
Okay now he’s pissed. Healing powers be damned, Wolverine does *not* enjoy being shot at period. Or blasted at. And Cyclops has had it. Yay?

The next few seconds are a blur its happening so fast. They scramble for dominance a while longer. Eventually, Cyclops is too exhausted or distracted or whatever, and no match for a ruthless and enraged Logan, who flips him to his stomach and roughly twists his arms behind him… grunts in pain. Logan pulls out his belt uses it to tightly secure the wrists as Cyclops struggles.
“Get off me you bastard! Jean call him off!!”
Jean refuses to. And he turns to look right back. For a moment, just one moment… I feel him.
//Is this what you really want Grey? Does this make you happy?//

Bastard. How you play me Cyclops. You let me in when you want to… when it suits your fucking purposes?
//Take off the visor//
“No way!”
“Take it off Logan. He wont open his eyes.”
I know he wont. Without his visor, he cant control the intensity of the deadly blasts. And the first thing on his mind would be how valuable Wolverine is to the cause of mutants everywhere. As is Dr. Jean Grey.
“But Jean…”
“Do it!”

I hate the damn thing anyway. Why does he fucking get to see my soul if I cant see his? I throw my scarf to Logan… which ironically is red too.
“Use this if it’ll make you feel better.”

//Better? Jeez doc better or worse is not how I’d describe this… this, whatever it is we’re doin here…//

And he’s also thinking to himself he’d never imagined Dr Vanilla-in-a-very-committed-relationship-Grey to be so damn kinky. Logan is not sure what’s gotten into me, but he isnt minding the proceedings too much anyway. Hell I think he’s enjoying himself. Aura of excitedness. Power-induced high.

Somehow, his intentions aren’t my concern right now. Only a means. To an end.

When the visor comes off, Cyclops cringes and lets out a protesting gasp. That face… I once knew the man behind the rose glasses… damn it I need another drink.

He squeezes his eyes shut, lowers his face as far down into his chest as it would go. Logan doesn’t really need to, but wraps the scarf tightly over the closed eyes anyway. Cyclops doesn’t fight it. Too quiet. Again.
//Let me in Cyclops…//
Silence.
//Let me in and this will all be over…//
Silence. Did I mention its driving me insane?
“Damn it Logan what are you waiting for?”

Logan raises himself from where he’d been sitting, straddling Cyclops into the glossy floor. Grabs him by the collar of his thin black jacket and drags his slender flailing form across the floor over to a low table opposite me. Then he looks at me for a reaction… gets none.

Lowers himself to the table hurling his growling victim across his strong legs. Face down blind, butt in his assaulter’s lap, legs splayed strategically so they cant contact anything useful, hands tied behind his back and completely prone… Cyclops rallies against the impossible bonds and against the man restraining him, without a sound that’d matter. His jaw is clenched, determined not to give his attackers the satisfaction of hearing him plead. Or curse. Or scream.

Logan is still searching me for second thoughts. I levitate a bottle of… whiskey is it? Whatever… into my right hand, take a long swig… and stare him back down. Without once looking away, he pops a single claw. I think I jump like two feet in the air, just as Cyclops does. I feel the tremors of fear and shock coursing through him that he is too occupied with, to hide.

And Logan heaves the boy’s middle up with just one hand… different hand… never realized he was so slight compared to Wolverine’s bulk. Flicks the blade in a movement that has me panicking for a moment cos it looked like he just sliced open my boyfriend’s guts without sterilization. Naah just the buttons, and the jeans come undone. Cyclops shakes with anger and… fear I guess. Logan withdraws the claw screechingly, as Cyclops holds stark still, panting silent negatives to nobody. The black jeans and white boxers are pulled down, his ass exposed to the punishment Logan is about to impart on my behalf.

I take in all the beautiful bared flesh, skin only slightly paler than the rest of his body’s gold… feel a sharp pang of jealousy… which brings a smile to Logan’s face… of course he’s still gauging my reaction. In one lazily elegant move, he places a palm flat on Scott’s…

Cyclops’ ass… presses it there… Cyclops flinches and trembles… and we both moan deep in our throats with hopeless misery… and shame.
So this is what its come to. Logan licks his lips, enjoying the squirms, raises an eyebrow at me.
“You sure?”
I nod, almost dizzy with the effort. I’m sure. I’m drunk, I’m bonkers but I’m sure.

And it begins. The first fall of the heavy hand stuns Cyclops out of his silence and he lets out a loud ‘aahh’. Logan smacks his backside over and over as he tries to get away over and over, with no success. He writhes, he flinches, he desperately struggles… lets out the occasional yelps… all in quiet agony. He cant see me, still keeps craning back towards me… as if wanting to say something? But he doesn’t. He fucking doesn’t.

And the blows rain down.
//Are you keeping count Logan?//
//Eleven, twelve, thirteen…//
Must be the whiskey (Scott keeps telling me not to mix my drinks but hell… he stopped listening why should I?) I let out a deep, throaty, empty laugh. And this is precisely where it hits me, the first wave. My heart starts to race. I hear him. I hear Cyclops… fighting to keep his dignity through silence… pain he can take… but he cant take the humiliation… helplessness… he cant take my sneering. He is gasping. I laugh harder.

//twenty four, twenty five, twenty six…//

He twists from side to side as much as Logan’s restraining arm round his waist would allow… doesn’t help. Logan is not stopping. He is spanking the bottom of the one guy who’s been a thorn in his side ever since they faced off at the mansion. His skirmishes with Cyclops were no secret. They were always at opposite ends of everything. Prof is convinced they’ll get over it eventually, that they’ll work it out. Work what out? Weekly schedule of who gets to fuck me which day and night?

Naah I’m kiddin myself, its not always about me… sometimes its also about the bike… about war and peace, chain of command… sometimes… its just about the two of them.

The punishment gets harsher. Logan is obviously swept away in his whirlwind emotions of hate and envy and that little incongrous something I’ve always read in his thoughts for Cyclops. Control is an aphrodisiac. And he is still counting.
//thirty six, thirty seven, thirty eight…//
Does he realise how loud and how hard his blows have become? Does he hear the rapid beating of his own heart alongwith that of his charge’s?
//forty two, forty three, forty four…//

It’s a magnificent sight. Cyclops, illustrious son to Professor Charles Xavier… Field leader of the X-Men… draped helplessly over the lap of some obscure Canadian wolfman… in the biggest and hardest bare-assed whupping of his career. Oh this is just too magnanimous. Its so beautiful I could cry! Of course I’m telling Cyclops all this… and promptly get the response I desire.

“Fuck you Jean!”
Okay not exactly. It’s the mention of dear *daddy* that does the trick. But he isnt giving up yet. He bites his lower lip until it bleeds just so no scream escapes him. But I know its begun… I can hear him softly calling, taste the salt of unfallen tears… feel him coming to me when he doesn’t want to, the walls are starting to quiver.

//Fifty. Fifty one, fifty two…//
//Scott//
//… five… fifty six… fifty seven.//
//I miss you…//
And the first crack opens.

Cyclops renews his struggles with twice desperation and Logan is forced to use more… force. He gasps breathlessly, kicks out at whatever he can reach, bites his lips more… grunts…
//I’m waiting for you darling…//
squirms desperately… groans in pain… Logan looks to me for a sign… something…
//my brave darling…//
…almost whimpers… catches himself not in time. The agony of the spanking not just burning his ass anymore…
//sixty one, sixty two, sixty three…//
//I know it hurts… I know you’re scared…//
He gasps and quivers, quietly.
//You don’t have to hide from me Scott… don’t shut me out… let me in… //
….
//Let me love you baby… together we can both be strong… //
….
//Trust me baby… Its okay… its okay to cry… //
….
//Share with me… your pain, your fears… I promise you I wont give you up…//
….
//Scott please… what is wrong? Talk to me, your silence is killing me…//
….
….
….

“You are one stubborn sonofabitch arent you.”

One of his shoes had come off during his kicking spree. I let it soar and whack his head with it.
Asshole.
Another bottle of liquor finds its way into my hands. I almost drop it… cant see too well with all the damn water blurring my vision. I stand up. I tear my eyes away from the man I love, as he continues to suffer in his burning torment and still refuses to accept any tenderness from me. His fucking girlfriend! His Jean! I pace. I curse. I cry some more.
I give up.

//…seventy nine… eighty…//
He’s angry with me. It was a huge gamble this… this… whatever… and I lost. Tonight, I may have destroyed my very last chance with him. I want to sink to the floor and wail. Instead I lean on the bar and quietly weep for what I’ve lost, what we’ve lost… the preciousness we once had… and may never have again.
Then… once more… in his own weird, totally unintended way… Logan comes to my aide.

//Jean… we need to stop…//
His hands have mellowed over the trembling form in his arms… the stifled and cruelly prolonged agony enough to shake even Logan’s adamantium resolve. The spanks are fewer and gentler… relatively speaking of course.
//No we don’t.//
I didn’t get Cyclops to break, even when I ended up crying myself. Fuck. If he wont forgive me, I wont either. Don’t care who started it. Very reluctantly, Logan goes on… but this time… he does it to the desired effects…

“No…”
What? A breathless rasp of a voice heavy with pain…
“No… no… no… don’t.”

He’d been pliant for awhile there as I spoke to him… now he’s getting restless with every passing moment. And I don’t know why.
“stop… Logan please… d-don’t do that!”
Logan smelt the tears… but I felt them first. I feel his defenses shattering all around him. And then he is screaming.
“Damn it no!! Sonofabitch! Please don’t!”

It’s a while before I realisat Lat Logan was doing to him to make him scream like that. Logan was… Logan was soothing him.
//God Jean I cant do this anymore, we have got to stop…//

Logan is… there is no way to describe this… the Canadian loner’s mind is overwhelmed by resurging emotions he’s reluctantly but surely harbored for quite awhile now. He is resting his hand on the reddened cheeks in between slaps, with the resting gradually turning to caressing… caressing turned to gentle rubbing.

Logan is… not punishing anymore. He is no more an unfeeling conduit of my wrath. He’s holding Scott… I mean really *holding* Scott. Mingling hurt with comfort… pain with pleasure… pain courtesy me of course… and pleasure…?
Cyclops is crying. Like a child.

“Stop it. Stop it… dont.”
The more he protests, the more Logan rubs… and soothes. And he cries some more. Up until now he only felt our anger, our annoyance… our hate. And he dealt with it like he was taught to, facing an enemy ie bae battlefield. Frigid. Defensive. Brave. But when Logan mixed that hate with… love…? Well that’s just totally and completely against protocol! Cyclops is not trained for this… he isnt equipped to handle an assault of love.
Wait a minute, love?

Unwanted stimulation breaking Scott’s resistance and he’s calling for me to help. Riddled with anxiety greater than ever, I am running to reach him fast as I can. Part of me wants to snatch him away from the hands feeling up my boyfriend’s ass… hands that dare touch him with such undulated love besides mine… but another part… the desperate one… knows those hands are the key. Those hands would eventually rescue my love.

He holds the struggling boy down effectively and continues smacks alternated with careful ministrations that unknown to him are causing the boy more distress than ever.
//Eighty five. Eighty six…//
“Please… p-please n-no…”
I kneel by Logan’s side, just where he hangs his head in surrender. Take his face in both hands and raise it to level with mine… cursing his mutancy for a zillionth time. I’d give anything to look into his eyes… eyes I remember so vividly like it was yesterday. Twelve fucking years and only yesterday...

He'd fixed his gaze on me the moment I stepped onto the mansion grounds. Nervous and unsure, I’d gripped my trunk in one hand, hat with another… walkin against a hard iced wind ever so slowly towards the magnificent and hugely intimidating structure… and I swear I would have bolted. Was just about to turn and run but before I could do so, something tugged at my heart… made me look up. A not so high window, half shielded by soft white curtains, held a child… barely fourteen with the most beautiful, heartbreakingly blue eyes I’d ever seen… eyes that beseeched me… assured me… told me not to go… to stay… and play…
But you changed the game Cyclops. This is not what I stayed for. This is not what you offered me that first night of endless stars?

//Logan, listen for me.//
"Scott..."
He can hardly utter a word through all his sobs. The scarf is soaked, his angelic features warped in pain and shame. He leans into my hands holding him, burying his face... muffling the sounds he doesnt like making.
"Sweetie..."
"Jean... p-p-please... p-please n-no more."
"Why do you hide from me darling? You know there is nothing I wouldnt understand..."
Silence.
//Now//
And Logan's hand comes down like a whip. Scott yelps, taken aback by the sudden returning intensity of the blow.
"Shhh... I’m sorry it hurts baby, but I promise it will go away. Just let me in."
He bites his lip, but its too late for that.

"J-Jean..."
"Yes my darling..."
He moans as Logan resumes the soft massaging of his buttocks.
"Please... t-tell Logan n-not to… not to do that."
I feign innocence.
"Do what?"
"Jean please damnit!!"
//Now Logan//
"Aahh! Make him s-stop please!"
"You can make him stop Scott... you know what to do."
I can feel him! Really feel his misery, sense his despair, his frustrations... and its getting stronger… this is a good sign.
//Now//
"Ugh! Jean p-please... I... I d-dont want to hurt you."
"You hurt me with your silence Scott. I know there is something wrong but you wouldn’t talk to me about it. I love you Scott. And ever since... since... I'm just so used to you being here with me... all the time. And now you're not there and I… I miss you."

He sobs quietly. Logan is not hitting him anymore, and I think he's finally submitting to the soothing touches of his adversary… he’s not struggling any more. I pull the wet scarf off his eyes. He cringes and tries to turn away, jin cin case… but I don’t let him.
"Scott... please darling, let me in. Let us be the way we were... one mind, one heart... one soul! Don’t you… dont you love me anymore?"
Lets out a strangled gasp.
“I love you J-Jean, always.”
“Then why?”

The gasp again, the broken sob again, what was the word I used before? Moans… in rhythm, I realize, with Logan’s hand stroking his vulnerability. And then I smell it too.
….
“Scott?”
….

Lower than a whisper, so low I barely hear it myself… a familiar sound he makes… my Scott is aroused. Just like… Logan. And not just mindless aroused.
Fucking rock hard.
Scott’s erection is pressed painfully in between Logan’s thighs, who in tis uis unable to keep his own erection from pressing into the boy in his lap… that stench of lust I vainly ignored? Now pervades the room, and my head… and my lungs and my veins.
When? How? And where the *fuck* was I?

I look at Logan and my anxieties are confirmed. He knows. He’s known for a while now. Chemistry they call it and I was too blind to see it. He’s seen the growing tension between the happy couple and cheered not very silently. But not for me as I fleetingly assumed, for him!

I could be angry at that… or consider the fact he never did make the moves he most likely could have. I could remember the two men have been disguising their true feelings for each other with… hatred… and envy…

Decide to ponder the latter, its less hurtful. Logan is radiating strong waves of sympathy and… want… his face contorted with emotions he was hiding from longer than he’d confess to. Emotions he didn’t want exposed but now lie bare to the last pair of eyes they should… mine.

Yes! Go ahead! Say it! Some *fucking* telepath I am!

Scott has always relied on his sense of touch more than anything else. My hands holding his face are trembling and he can tell why.
“Damnit Logan let me go…”
Tries to set himself straight, struggling to escape Logan’s hold on him, but the older man is waiting for instruction from me to let him go… and I have no idea. Zip. Nada. Finally gives it up, my silence disturbing him more and more with every passing moment.

“Jean please… I… I’m sorry… I love you, with all my heart…”
….
“God knows I cant live without you…”
….
“When… when he came… I d-don’t know… I don’t know what happened… I was too ashamed, scared if you f-found out… if you read it in m-my thoughts…”
….
“Jean I swear I have never ever… God please forgive me! I thought it would pass, that one d-day I’d be able to rejoin our link again…”
….
“I miss it too Jean… I miss you s-so much. I-I don’t wanna l-lose you…”
….
“Jean p-please… t-talk to me… J-Jeannie p-please…”

Scott… my Scott… his tears wet my hands holding his face and his words cling to my heart… but… FUCK.
I’m up with a jolt… across the room in two strides… away from Scott’s sobs and Logan’s guilty expression but they follow me around. Logan pulls up the boxers and jeans, turns and raises Scott around in his arms. Shushes him when the searing sensation of his punishment lets loose agonised groans. Holds him up, cradles his head so he’s facing me, blind. I am too far… can only stand helplessly, staring wider, breathing harder.

“Logan…”
“Yes, Scott.”
I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard him say that name.
“Is she gone?”
There is panic in his voice, and I feel reassured.
“She’s here.”
He rests his head on the broad chest, boneless.
He huddles like a child in a guardian’s lap, too exhausted to support his own weight yet staunchly clamping eyelids down. He isn’t even fighting the physical restraint. Wants to see me… reach out for me…
“I’m sorry Jean…”

I think I was squicked, am past it now. And onto worry and envy and insecurity. Guilt. To say that I am dazed would be an understatement, I think I’m in shock.
“Jean…”
God how he says my name! He is quiet, my face is wet again.

In his misery, he gives me what I needed. Floodgates thrown open and waves after waves of pure Scott Summers hit me at his desperate best. Four months… of agony and loneliness mirroring my own… and confusion and frustration I only knew half of. And love… oh God… love. All his life he’s only ever been with me, and then in walks Logan with his… mysteriousness, and exoticness, and strength… and manhood… making Scott question his choices, his complacencies… the very meaning of his life…

I curse myself. I broke him, he was on the edge and I pushed him over. I’m a bitch. And since I can see this self-deprecation is not really getting me anywhere, I should just get busy. My baby. I broke him, I need to put him back together again.

The blue shirt I gifted him three years ago hangs untidily over his jeans, Logan sees it and smoothes it down… Scott’s heaving chest. Holds him, rocks him, refuses to let him go. Unropes the wrists fully expecting Scott to break free… is hugely surprised when he doesn’t. Brings the arms to front from where they lay turned awkwardly… rubs them up and down to mitigate the strain. Eventually, trembling fists close round his own shirt, warming his heart. Tongues the tears, strokes the hair. Glares at me, daring me to do something about it.
I don’t think I want to.

Logan and Scott, Wolverine and Cyclops… they’re all here, in my head… drowning out the crowd, and I realize… after a very long time, I am not alone anymore.

A cloud lifts. I dry my face, puff out my inadequate chest and walk back. To where they are. Pull a chair, fit myself on the open side of Scott Summers, wedge a long leg under his thighs so he partly rests on me. He feels me close and holds his breath. Logan has a question mark on his face. He was very near ready to pop his claws when I touched Scott. Almost giddy smile… finally, someone to look after him when I’m gone. I caress the protector’s mind as a gentle breeze, reassuring him. Of course he doesn’t buy it.

“Logan…”
Scott snivels, curls up further… fully expecting to hear the string of expletive tau taught me.
“Don’t you want to do something about that?”
Beat.
Oh the look on Wolverine’s face! Its precious… he *is* cute. He cant believe he is hearing what he is hearing. I grab his hand in mine, place it on the aroused but steadily receding mound between the two of us. Scott jumps, utterly stunned and gasps his heart out. One fist leaving Logan’s shirt and entangling itself in mine. He doesn’t realize he’s touching my heart. His voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

“Jean, have mercy on me… p-please…”
//Shhh baby…//
I kiss his closed eyes, his hollowed cheeks, blood-reddened lips… slowly as two hands, one soft and one coarse work together to strip down a common object of obsession. He quivers violently, reflexively spreads his legs, not intending to but cant really stop.
Cyclops is out of control.

Cool draft hits organs that feel like velvet on fire in my grasp. And Scott is sweating profusely, as am I. Its diificult to breathe, the junction of my legs feeling wetter by the second. Logan is fixated with the eyes tight shut and the lush lips sighing against mine.
//He has a mouth like yours//
I know.

And the two entwined hands start to move on the exposed erection. I swallow his moans, gauging Logan’s opinion on the matter. While ten fingers indulge him, Scott writhes and pushes up into the teasing… slow, relentless, unforgiving. Logan gives in to a growing chuckle of pure delight at the way he’s made Scott look, and he cant stop staring. Him, then me, back at him. He is in love.

I remember now what happened four months ago… we found Logan.

“Come for us baby…”
A fervent squeeze and he does, hard and uninhibited. Arches up into the threesome embrace, bridging across us for good. The guilt can wait, the anxieties can wait… Scott gives in to the pleasurable sensations and the moment draws from him his loudest scream yet. When he falls back, we’re there, me and Logan. As we’ll always be, a solemn nod from the other assuring me I wasn’t alone in this. That I aint the only one crazy in love. And Scott knows it now too. Two of us remain unfulfilled, but it’s a small price to pay, seeing him smile shyly, blushing… as he lies enfolded with careless abandon. Trusting blindly, no pun intended. I whisper in his ear.

“I will always love you Scott. No *ancient* jackass will ever change that.”
Logan is beautiful when he smiles. He buys it now. And couldn’t be happier.
“I will kill him myself if he ever gets in the way bub…” presses a kiss on the damp forehead beneath equally damp fringes. I don’t know what I would do if tomorrow he decides to go back on his words.

Scott burrows deeper in my chest in response and squeezes Logan’s hand that somehow found its way in his. He really does look extremely young compared to Logan’s towering form over the both of us. Sounds even more so, voice tinged with hesitant hope.
“I don’t want to lose any of you.”
“You wont.”
And that’s the closest these boys will get to, to confessing their love for each other.

I button Scott up, well with whatever buttons remain… Logan finds the visor and tries putting it back on his face. He straightens up with renewed if kinda embarrassed vigor, not needing us to support him any longer.

“Hey easy, old man,” …an unsure jibe… “you wanna get fried or somethin?”
Logan hands him the visor and he dons it himself carefully, standing up painfully… ouch he must really hurt… finally opens his eyes. No beams of mass destruction? Good, and then he turns back to look at us… confirming it was real and that it wasn’t just a dream. How could it be when his ass is on fire?
//Duh!//
Lets out a deep breath of relief, holding himself by his middle.

I rise into his embrace and we connect like we haven’t in four months. Seems like ages… never again. Always be the boy who promised me endless stars Scott Summers. Don’t ever change.
//I wont. I promise. I love you Jean Grey. Forever. And… Jean? //
//You’re welcome honey//
Blinds are history, and I can feel his love and his happiness without him needing to verbalize it. Which shouldn’t be a problem for Logan cos men don’t need verbal expressions of sentiments anyway, isn’t it?

“Don’t worry about me one-eye. You couldn’t hit me if I was sitting on your face.”
“Fantasizing already Wolverine?”
Logan stretches his limbs and… here we go.
“Get your sweet ass home kid. And I’ll show you what else I’m fantasizing about.”
“Cyclops. The name is Cyclops. And you better show me some respect, I’m still your commander.”

Well at least I don’t feel my sanity slipping anymore. My anchor is back, safe and sound… and bickering with his new boyfriend. I think I’m getting a headache.

“Or you’ll do what *kid* ?”
“I’ll… umm, have you take art class.”
“Wow! I’m scared shitless.”
“Have you heard about the tenth graders this year?”
Beat.
“Okay here’s the deal. You keep those brats away from me and I’ll restrict your next spanking to an even ninety.”
“Jesus! Fucking bast-… go to hell Wolverine!”

Where the hell did that bottle of vodka go? Or was it whiskey…

“Of course it will also depend on how much you’ve pi Jea Jean off.”
“You are never getting your filthy hands on me again asshole.”
“Wanna bet your ass on that?”
“And you said *I* was anal retentive?”
“Fine let me rephrase that, anus like yours I’d like to retain permanently. How’s that?”
“Testimony to the fact that you’re a bigger ancient jackass than I give you credit for.”

I take it back. If this is their essiossion of love I’m perfectly happy to be a woman after all.

“You leave my bike out of this!”
“Its worth leaving in a ditch somewhere bubd bed be happy to do the honors for ya.”
“Oh and I suppose the reason you steal it every chance you get is so you can hump the seat I grace?”

Angelo? You there? Angel honey??

“You little piece of…”
“Watch your language Professor Logan.”
“Bite me.”
“I think I’ll pass thank you.”
“Fine then let me…”


---------------------------------------------
End of “To Love..”

Next: “..Honor..”
Projected third part: “..and Obey”

The next is Logan POV and last one is Scott POV. These should explain things more, resolves questions and issues I know are open in this one.

----------------------------------------------
Author's Notes about the story(explanations I guess! :)
This is how I see Jean Grey, I don’t think she can hear everyone’s feelings and emotions all the time. Its only so with Scott bcos they have been together for the longest time in which they have kindof forged a mental link of sorts. But to listen to other people, she would have to actually make an effort the way she did with Logan in the first movie. Of course with time I would assume, she would unintentionally, start picking up on vibes from people she has been in close contact with.

Logan will always be a wise and educated person in my stories because I’m sure that’s what he is. Just because he doesn’t remember his life, doesn’t mean he didn’t have an education. I hate it when he’s shown as rough and uncouth and uncultured. So I’m cing ing that. :)

And Scott… another few assumptions there. I’ve assumed that when Scott came to the mansion, he wasn’t entirely blind, that he could be without the glasses for little periods of time. So Jean has seen his eyes before they completely mutated. And they’re blueJ Also, he looks younger to Jean in the movies, and I’m gonna run with that. Maybe 4-5 years. Besides, I have to admit I’m hugely influenced by the great Minisinoo’s writings so…! :)