Sweet Dreams
Remy watched the clouds drift by. The air was starting to
warm up – spring was coming. He inhaled a lungful of smoke and let it
drift up slowly and smiled. "Sugah?" Rogue was hovering just to his
right. "Can we talk?"
"Roof's open. Set down, chere."
She settled next to him. He handed her his ciggarette and she
took a drag, then handed it back. "Bobby asked me out."
"So where y' goin'?" He smiled at her.
"I ain't said 'yes' yet."
"Why not?"
"I thought, well. . ."
"Chere, still love y' that ain't gonna change, but y' ain't
my girl and I ain't y'r boy no more neither."
She sighed. "Seems strange, Rems."
"I know."
"Is he hurtin' ya, Remy?"
Gambit blinked. "Rogue?"
She ran a finger along his lip. "Is Logan hurtin' ya, sugah?"
"Non, chere. Did this t' m'self." He blushed.
"Why?"
"Cause ole Remy? He's a screamer."
She couldn't help but giggle.
"He make m' fly, chere. Hopin' Bobby can do the same f' y'
someday."
"Good luck, Swamp Rat."
"Ditto, chere." He watched her fly off. He examined his
heart. He was surprised to not find a shred of jealousy or anger. He
kissed his fingers and held them up in farewell. He flipped off the
edge of the roof and landed lightly on the new grass.
*****
Bobby watched Gambit touch down. He stuck his tongue out at
the Cajun from behind the safety of the window. Logan raised his
brows. "What's wrong, Drake? My boy actin' up?"
"No, just being himself." Bobby knew he was sulking.
"That a problem?"
"Only when he's been talking to Rogue with that damned grin
of his."
Logan chuckled. "Ain't a problem, Icecube."
"You don't think? She'll *never* go out with me if he's
flirting with her."
"Drake, listen to me, Remy ain't after yer girl. He knows
better."
"Ha. Ha. I'm laughing, see?"
"Drake, ya ain't that stupid are ya?"
Bobby finally looked at Logan's smirk. "What?"
"He's *my* boy, Drake. Ain't ya heard him?"
"I thought he was just screwing you for the Hell of it.
Everyone knows he's a whore."
Logan's claws flashed. "Never thought I'd hear those words
outta yer mouth. Where'd ya hear it from?" Bobby gaped. "Where? It
ain't yer words."
"Warren," Bobby admitted. "But it's true."
"How do ya know that?"
"He's never denied it."
"Comere, Bobby. Sit yer ass down."
Bobby settled on the couch.
"Ya know anythin' about Gambit's childhood, Drake?"
"He was raised by his dad and aunt. He's nominally Catholic.
He was raised to be a thief?"
"He was adopted, Bobby, when he was around 11. Off the
streets, Drake. Ya know what happens to a five year old kid on the
streets, Bobbo?"
Bobby swallowed hard. He nodded.
"How 'bout a kid with a physical mutation?"
Bobby shivered.
Logan leaned forward. "So we on the same page?"
"I'm an insensitive bastard?"
"And?"
"If I disrespect Gambit I'll get three feet of adamantium in
my gut?"
"Yer a smart boy, Icicle."
"I'm just gonna go watch Bugs Bunny."
"You do that."
Bobby iced up and sped to his room .He turned up the tv and
thought hard."
*****
"Gambit," Cycops' voice pulled Remy from his magazine.
"Oui?"
"We need to talk. Come on."
Remy sighed. He dog-eared the page and followed the field
leader to his office. He shut the door behind himself.
"Lapton Industries. Heard of them?"
"A bit. They make chemicals f' labs."
"I have reason to believe they're working with terrorists."
"Like us?"
"No, real ones. They're shipping bomb compounds through
Russia."
"This come from Colossus?"
"Yes."
"Y' want the stopped, disrupted, destroyed, or bankrupt?"
"Warren and Bobby will work the financial angle. I want
information. Everything you can get me. Use Storm and Rogue. The CEO
is lonely."
"Full sting?"
"Full surviellence. Pull Jubes if you need her."
"Y' want details?"
"No."
Remy raised a brow.
"If I know, everyone'll know. I can leash that woman's mouth,
but not her mind."
"Got it. Mission t' m'self. Assignments out. Y' want someone
inside?"
"Only if it can be done safely."
Remy nodded. "Got some ideas, me."
"Good."
"That all?"
"You okay with last night?" Scott asked.
Remy shrugged. "Oui. How's Jeannie?"
"Ask her yourself."
"Remy'll do that."
*****
"Hey, chere," Remy greeted absently as he fixed a cup of
coffee for himself and one for Logan. He sipped Logan's and added
more sugar. Logan accepted the mug with and absent, "Thanks." Remy
settled on his favorite perch and fished his magazine from an inside
pocket. Logan studied his pet. He wasn't really reading or just
looking at pictures. "Ya got an assignment?"
Remy startled to attention. He nodded.
"Need help?"
"Not yet. Merci."
"I'm goin' shoppin'. Ya wanna come?"
"Non, merci."
"Answer that sorta question carefully, Gumbo," Logan teased.

Remy laughed. Logan finished off his coffee. He stood in
front of the Cajun, one hand to each side of his thighs against the
counter. Remy met him in a sweet kiss. "Have fun, cher."
"Be good, Darlin'." Logan tweaked the Cajun's nose.
"If not, Remy'll be better." Remy winked, bouyed by Logan's
love and the anticipation of a hiest-rush.
*****
Jean shifted in her chair. Xavier looked at her. //Is there a
problem, Jean?//
//No, of course not. Is the brief what you were looking for?//
Xavier looked down his nose at her and she smiled
blandly. //Jean, is Scott lashing out at you?//
She fought down giggles and shook her head. //Scott isn't
abusive, Professor.//
//There was an incident several years ago when he left
bruises on your wrists.//
Jean looked Xavier dead in the eyes. //As I didn't have the
guts to tell you then, those bruises were a result of some of the
most passionate sex I've ever had.//
Xavier nodded. //Very well. You were both young. But it is a
dangerous situation that bears watching. Scott's history, his
headaches, his. . . obsessive nature.//
//Possessive you mean?// Jean taunted. //Scott loves me, sir.
I can stop him with a thought, Professor. You never stepped in with
Remy and Rogue, and she nearly broke his jaw during one of their
fights,// Jean pointed out.
//I was unaware of that.// Xavier frowned.
Jean rolled her eyes. //I have my period, sir.//
Xavier blushed. Jean left – mission accomplished.
*****
Jean found Remy in the kitchen. He was studying a file hidden
inside an art magazine. She wondered idly what he was planning to
steal, then shelved it under the "don't ask" Gambit policy.
"Hi, Remy. Where's Logan?"
"Shoppin'."
"And you're here?"
"I ain't Jubilee, chere. Sore?" he asked with a smile when
she simply leaned against the counter to eat her lunch.
"Cramps."
"Of course, chere. Need a backrub? Been told I got the touch."
Jean debated, then nodded. "That'd be nice."
"Rec room couch'd be best." Jean planted the suggestion to
clear the room.
"Want something?"
"Non, ate already. Merci, chere. Y' seen Roguie?"
"She claimed she has nothing to wear and dragged Betsy off to
the mall."
"Po' Lizabetta."
"So it's over for good?"
"Been t'ree mont's, woman. What y' t'ink?"
Jean smiled. "I'm glad you're happy again."
Remy blinked. "Hehn?"
"You two were happy for awhile in the beginning. Then you
started fighting. It's good to see you smiling when no one's supposed
to be watching."
"Y' spyin' on Remy?"
"Perhaps a little bird told me." She finished off her
macaroni salad. "You offered a backrub?"
"Sure, chere."
*****
Logan perused the shop enjoying the mingling scents of
leather, rubber, and oil. He didn't shop often and rarely spent money
on himself. He wasn't going to find what he was looking for in this
shop, however, so he pushed on.
*****
Remy started with the tight muscles of Jean's feet. "Y' gotta
stop wearin' heels, Jeannie. It's killin' y're feet."
"But they look so good," she whined.
"Y' wear them too often y' gonna not be able t' stand wit'out
havin' them."
"I know. I know." She moaned. "You do have the touch."
"Merci."
He moved onto her calves.
//Remy?//
"I hate that, Jeannie."
//This needs to be private.//
//Fine. So talk.//
//Are you okay with Logan and Scott's little plot?//
//I wasn't at first, but that was jealousy. So long as he
don't fuck you, I'm okay with it. I can't give him *that*. I want him
happy though, oui?//
//And?//
//I'd rather he get it from someone I know. I know you ain't
going to call the cops on him. You just take away the whip if it gets
too much.//
Jean smiled into the pillow of her arms. //Thank you for
trusting me.//
//Bien.// He moved on to her thighs. //He treats you right?//
//Perfectly. I'm surprised I didn't broadcast it to
everyone.//
//Remy was une pietre distracted.//
She snickered softly over the link. //I'm sure. Logan leave
you in an interesting position?//
//Your husband didn't help matters. Scott's the devil ain't
he?//
//He's somewhere in the hierarchy at least. And to think, he
was sweet and innocent when I corrupted him.//
//Somehow I doubt that.//
//Smart. Oh, that hurts. No, don't stop. It'll feel fine when
you're done.//
He worked the muscles in the small of her back. //How long
were you wearing those heels, woman?//
//Ten, twelve hours. Something like that.//
//Sapriste, Jean! No wonder you got cramps. It ain't a case
of PMS neither, chere. Know for a fact you start next week.//
//Oh?// Disbelief colored the words.
//Chere, I spent some time crashing in a brothel. Same thing
applied here. Women work or sleep close for months and they all
menstruate at the same time. Rogue starts in one week, that means you
do too.//
Jean blinked. //Have you shared this wisdom with anyone
else?//
//You think I want Stromy to fry me?//
//Why would she care?//
//Because then she can't blame moods on her little friend.//
//I wouldn't want to have to mindwipe you.//
//Try you mean. Can't knock me out with a psi bolt, Jeannie.//
//I haven't tried. . . yet.//
//You tried when I first got here.//
//I've got more finese now.//
//Right, chere.//
//Brat.//
//And you know it.//
*****
"Hey, Gumbo, can I talk to you?"
"Y' can talk, Robert. Don' promise t' believe y'."
Bobby grinned. Then, he got serious. "Remy, I came to
apologize."
"F' what?"
"For calling you a slut and a whore. For not shutting Warren
up."
"F' pissin' off Logan?"
"Nope, that's your problem."
"He t'reaten y', Bobby?"
"Only if he hears me putting you down again. No, he made me
think. I don't know you well enough to judge you."
"Y' don' know 'nough about anyone t' judge them. But, apology
accepted. Merci, Robert."
"You really believe that judge not thing?"
"Oui, Bobby, I do. Y' may know what a person does only on the
surface. Y' never see intentions or motives. Merde, I done things
that hurt people, got them killt sometimes, but the intent weren't f'
it t' happen that way. An' Remy judge himself harder'n anyone else.
That book also says as y' f'give so shall y' be f'given. I only got
two grudges in this world, Bobby, and y' ain't even close t' either."
Bobby settled onto the couch. "My biggest grudge is with
myself. I've been here since I was 12 and I still can't control my
powers like I should. I haven't learned anything new since I turned
16."
Remy cocked his head to the side. "Y' ask anyone t' help?"
"I should be able to do it myself."
Remy shook his head. "Ask Stormy, or Logan, or Jeannie, or
Lizabetta even."
Bobby shook his head. "Jean maybe, but Storm loses control
when she gets angry, so does Logan. Hank and Angel don't have
conversion powers," he continued to forestall any arguments. "Scott
is definitely out. Rogue can't control her own powers. And Betsy
doesn't have the patience."
Remy sighed. "Just say it, Robert." He smiled ruefully.
Bobby blinked. He thought back over the conversation. "Oh.
Was that an offer?"
"I'll make flight arrangements t' get y' t' Scotland."
"Ha. Ha. Seriously, you'll help me?"
"If y' ask.'
"Remy, will you help me with my powers?"
"Oui, Robert, I will."
*****
"Whatcha buy?" Remy asked sitting up and peering over the
back of the couch. His clothes had already migrated to Logan's room.
His bedroom was becoming more of an office or a place to send him
when he was acting out. Logan snorted.
"I ain't tellin' so go back to yer plans."
"Bored me. Plans are done."
"Don't bother me, pet," Logan growled. Remy pouted, but went
back to his magazine. His curiosity got the better of him and he
peered over the back of the couch again. "Ya want a spankin', boy?"
Remy slunk down. He bit his lip. He didn't know if Logan was
serious or not. He played it safe. He took a nap.
Logan grinned as his pet's breathing evened out. It was hard
enough keeping Remy out of places as it was. If he got curious
there'd be no stopping him. He looked down at Remy as he slept. He
stroked down the thief's chest. Remy smiled sleepily at him. "Hey,
boss."
Logan pressed a hand firmly to Remy's chest. "Stay, pet."
Remy snuggled down more firmly into the cushions. Logan
dropped a collar onto Remy's chest. It was soft, butter leather, as
red as Remy's eyes. Remy lifted a hand to touch it hesitantly. "Go
ahead." He lifted it, surprised by the weight. He turned it in his
hands. He blinked at the kanji symbol on the front. He translated it
to mean pet. Then, his jaw fell open. He sat up and ran into Logan's
hand. He fell back with a gasp.
"Boss, I. . . merde, Logan, dis is. . . Bon Dieu. . . dese
ain't real are dey?"
"Yes, they are, boy."
"Diamonds? Non, white sapphires." Remy swallowed. His fingers
shook. "I don'. . . I can' . . . Too much, cher. Too much, boss."
"Shut up, pet," Logan said with a smirk.
"But. . . "
Logan rapped Remy's nose sharply. "Sit up." Logan fastened
the collar. It was wider than Remy was used to, nearly three inches
compared to his usual one of one inch. He raised his chin so that the
collar would be displayed.
"Merci, boss."
"Looks good. Strip." Remy hurried to comply. Logan sat down.
Remy settled between Logan's knees, eyes properly lowered. He rubbed
his cheek against Logan's thigh. Logan answered the show of affection
with a gentle ruffling of the wild bangs. "Pretty thing ain't ya,
pet?" He lifted Remy's chin. "From not on ya dress up fer me, boy."
He pressed his thumb to Remy's lips. The Cajun sucked eagerly at it,
eyes closing, showing the soft fringe of his lashes. "You been good
today?" Remy nodded minutely, sucking more frantically at the
thumb. "Get yer cuffs."
Remy brought the leather cuffs back and sat back on his
heels. Logan buckled them on and locked them behind the young man. He
smiled at the small shiver of anticipation Remy couldn't hide. He
flipped on the television and put his feet up on the hassock. Remy's
knees spread. His eyes flew open when the new report came on. Two
thoughts came to the fore: Who did that? and After all the trouble I
went through to return it!
Logan blinked in shock as his pet broke discipline, turned
and looked to the screen. "What's up, pet?"
"Took m' t'ree weeks t' get that back t' Paris! Gonna have t'
steal it again," he muttered. Logan shut off the set. Remy
blushed. "Je suis desole, boss." He dropped his eyes and settled back
into place.
Logan studied his pet. "Ya know I decide what y' watch or
don't when yer here."
"Oui, boss." Remy chewed at his lip. He didn't like Logan to
be disappointed with him.
"Ya do it on purpose?"
"Mais non! Never, boss, never." Remy's eyes were wide. He
kept his eyes down. "Don' want y' unhappy, boss. Wanna be good f'
y'." He rubbed his cheek against Logan's knee. "Want t' make y'
happy, boss."
Logan smelled fear, arousal, and sincerity. He bared his
fangs. "Ya ain't been good t'night. Ya weren't last night either.
Startin' t' become a habit."
"Non, boss. Remy was just startled. Please, boss, let m' make
y' feel good. Let y' pet show y' he be good f' y'."
"Empty promises, pet. Ya promise to be good then ya ain't."
Remy pressed his forehead to the floor. Logan wasn't really
angry was he? Remy trembled. He really needed to think before he
acted, that was all it was.
Logan looked down at the submissive posture and shook his
head. "Ya gotta learn yer lessons, pet. Ya stay like that. Not a word
or yer gonna find out what I bought earlier than yer gonna like."
Logan tuned to CNN once more. Despite what everyone though, he did
watch more than sports.
Remy closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. He
didn't' shift to acommidate his growing erection. What would he do if
Logan actually did give him a spanking? What would that be like?
Would it hurt more than a slap? If he let Logan do that where would
it end? Remy hated pain with a passion. The sight of a whip spiked
his heartrate into a panic, though he never showed it. Jean-Luc had
never hit him. He'd never had a spanking, but he'd been whipped. The
scars on his back were still visable. All he remembered was pain and
hate and squandered rage. He wanted to kill the man who'd done it,
feel his blood on his fists and he beat him to a pulp. After nearly
15 years the rage was still there and it frightened him.
Logan frowned as the acid prick of anger and fear bleached
out Remy's scent. He didn't see anything glowing. "Remy," he said
calmly. The thief shuddered, then his voice drifted up.
"Oui, Logan?" It hadn't sounded like and emergency.
"What's goin' on in yer head?"
"Jus' mem'ries."
"Of what?"
"Don' wanna talk 'bout it."
"I ain't plannin' on givin' ya a choice. We can do this as
teammates or I can ask ya as my pet."
"Connard." Remy muttered into the carpet. He sat up
carefully. Logan lifted his chin.
"Swallowin' yer anger's gonna eat ya alive." He jerked his
head at the couch with a looked question. Remy shook his head. He
wanted to stay where he was. His limbs felt heavy, his energy
sapped. "Tell me, Darlin'."
"Y' seen my back. Y're the only lover that ain't never asked."
"That what this is about?" He let Remy's chin rest in his
palm, using his knee to support the weight.
"Oui."
"Tell me. I need to know."
"Guess I was 'round eight or nine. Dis sadistic encule du
mere offered m' dinner an' a bed. I knew dat he'd want t' fuck m',
but I didn' know he got off on pain. He fed m'. Drugged m' wit'
somet'in'." Remy shivered. Logan pulled him up and into his lap. "He
beat m'. I could smell m' blood. Not'in' I said made him stop.
Started chantin' 'die' over an' over an' over. He gave hisself a
heart-attack. Dey found Remy in de mornin' wit' his corpse. Ran away
form de orphanage too. Didn' mean t' kill him." Remy was crying, but
Logan didn't think he was aware of it. He rocked the young man,
stroking the marked back. The skin was soft and supple, and Logan
wondered why he could clearly see the marks, but not feel them like
the other scars on his lover's body.
"Ya didn't kill him," Logan stated firmly.
"Tol' him t' die. Felt just like talkin' a cop int' lettin'
m' go."
"Remy, ya didn't kill him. The sick fuck did it to himself."
Remy's mouth was set in an "I'm just agreeing to shut you up"
frown.
"Pet," Logan growled. Remy fell thankfully into the
role. "I'm yer boss, right?"
Remy nodded.
"Ya listen real close, pet, 'cause I'm only gonna say this
once. Ya didn't kill the sick fuck that whipped ya bloody. His death
ain't yer fault. It was the powers that be sayin' he shouldn't be
hurtin' little boys. Ya hear me, pet?"
"Oui, boss. Weren't m' fault."
"That's right." Remy unlocked Remy's wrists, or rather,
unhooked them. "I'm gonna find that pick, boy." Remy smirked. "Go
wash yer face. I'd use the can if I were you. Ain't gonna get to it
later."
"Oui, boss."
Logan considered his options. He smiled at the tv screen.
Remy returned a short while later, hair loose around his shoulders.
He settled on his knees, waiting for Logan's attention. "We're gonna
play a game, pet," Logan said without looking from the program. "Here
are the rules. I'm gonna give ya an order. Ya don't do it, I'll make
ya do it, but yer gonna get a swat too. And I ain't gonna pull 'em,
pet. I'm gonna bruise that sweet ass of yers with every one." That
was an exaggeration, but Remy's whimper was worth it.
"Put up yer hair." Remy pulled it back into a neat ponytail
with a rubber band. He settled back on his knees. "Lock yer wrists
behind ya." Remy did so, wincing at the click. He could get out of
it, but there was something about knowing he'd done it to himself
that shook him. "Look here." Logan tapped at the buckle of his
belt. "Yer eyes don't move. No matter what."
Time slowed to a crawl in Remy's mind. The light shined dully
off of the belt. He found his breathing falling into Logan's pattern.
His mind drifted. Then, Logan moved. Remy caught his breath and his
eyes traced the outline of Logan's erection as it grew. "That's one,
pet." Remy whimpered. The blindfold was tight. Remy waited for the
blow, but it didn't fall. "Forehead on the floor, pet." Remy
complied, shivering. "Spread yer knees. Wider." Logan growled and
pushed the thief's knees apart when he didn't move. "Two." He settled
down and changed the channel.
The night proceeded. It ended with Remy's ankles strapped to
his thighs, his wrists pulled up high on his back and attached to his
collar and the hated ball-gag filling his mouth. He'd earned ten
smacks in all and he felt tears behind his lids. Logan grinned at the
mixture of anticipation and fear. He held Remy down with a hand in
the small of his back and delivered the spanking with short, stinging
blows. He pulled them, but they left nice, red marks behind. He
rubbed the warmed cheeks and Remy wriggled.
"Gonna fuck ya, pet, so ya remember who ya belong to."
Logan's ears pricked at the pleading mewling from behind the gag. He
heard the purr Remy was unaware of. He heard the panting breath.
Remy's muscles quivered.
The Canadian leaned forward and lapped at the sweat which was
gathering in the small of his pet's back. He bit the rise of flesh he
knew was a scar from his own claws and tasted sweet blood. His eyes
closed in appreciation. He pressed gently with his thumb, and Remy's
body opened easily. He slicked his aching cock and pressed for entry.
Remy's ass stung. Logan was so hard that Remy could feel it
as if it were his own. A tear slipped free and he cursed it. He hated
his own fear. His own weakness. He wanted Logan's arousal to wash it
away. He wanted to get lost in the sensation and not have to think
anymore. It seemed like years before Logan actually pushed forward
and claimed him. The rhythm was hard and fast. Logan's fingers caught
hard to Remy's upper arms and pulled him to meet each thrust. "Come,
pet," he heard from far away in Logan's well-known growl as he came,
straining at his bonds.
Logan felt the muscles ripple around his cock and bit at
Remy's collar bone, marking him, holding him as he came. He managed
not to collapse on the thief, not that the Cajun seemed to mind his
weight. Disengagement was slow. Logan slipped free and Remy whined at
the loss. Logan patted him comfortingly, not aware enough yet to do
anything more.
Remy whined. The continuing confinement was wearing on his
nerves. He wanted to curl up in his boss's arms and sleep all of it
away – their talk, the sting of Logan's hand that lingered only in
memory, the tears in his eyes, the lead in his muscles.
"Stay," Logan rumbled as he got to his feet. Remy
snorted. "Brat."
Remy jerked at the sting of the antiseptic. He hadn't felt
the bites, at least not as having broken the skin. He wriggled a bit
and Logan growled. "Settle down, pet, I ain't lettin' ya go yet."
Remy sighed and relaxed into the hold of the restraints.
"Good boy."
Remy flushed at the praise. Logan chuckled. The warm sound
rolled over Remy's ears. He liked the shivery feel of it against his
skin. Logan got ready for bed. Remy whined a little when he shut off
the television and lights. The running commentary had been a soothing
drone in the background. Logan moved the candle from the dresser to
the television and lit it. "Sit up, pet."
Remy struggled up, muscles of his back protesting after being
folded up for so long. He mentally chided himself. He'd been trained
to stay still in the shadows. He was getting out of practice. That
could get him caught or killed. He could just *hear* his father
disowning him for that stupidity.
Logan removed the blindfold and Remy blinked in the soft
candlelight. Logan kissed his forehead and brushed along Remy's lips
with his thumb. The boy looked good like this, bangs falling in a
rough tumble of streaked fox-light hair, sweat glistening in the half-
light, candle-light making his collar sparkle, eyes heavy from sex,
bound for showing off his muscled torso and legs. Logan stroked back
his bangs. Remy made a soft, questioning sound. Logan ignored it.
Remy's eyes dropped. He turned into Logan's touch on his cheek.
Logan freed Remy's legs. The thief stayed still. Logan
nodded; the boy was learning. "Up, pet." Remy got to his feet slowly.
Logan steadied him. "Ya promise to stay quiet if I take yer gag out?"
Remy nodded.
"Of course ya do." Logan shook his head. "First word ya say
without permission it goes back in," he warned.
Remy nodded, dropped his chin, and looked up pleadingly
through his bangs.
Logan shook his head again and unbuckled the gag. Remy worked
his jaw, still obediently still otherwise. Logan jerked his head
toward the bed. "Go."
Remy climbed into bed, eyes following Logan's every move. His
shoulders were beginning to ache, but he was fairly certain he'd just
have to deal with that. He'd ticked Logan off more than once tonight
and Logan hadn't bruised him, no matter what he'd threatened. He was
too wound up to sleep though, even though his muscles ached for it.
He would be able to sleep if Logan would let him snuggled close.
Logan blew out the candle and the scent of hot wax lingered
in the air. He climbed into bed and gathered his pet close. He
stroked Remy's back until he slept, snuggled near Logan's heart. He
brushed a kiss across Remy's bangs and followed him down, nose filled
with his pet's scent.
FINIS