Three of a Kind, Chapter 3

There was a lot of pain on the other side of the dope
and he was pretty content to stay in the dim, small
world created by the drugs. Paul could feel the pain,
just like he could feel the itch of a needle in his
hand but it was distant. Just like he could feel
someone else nearby, sitting silently, attention
elsewhere. Equally unimportant. He drifted in and
out of sleep.

It smelled like a hospital, sounded like a hospital so
he had to be in a hospital. Even if it was too quiet
and to clean. When the dope started to wear off and
Paul realized just how much pain he was in, lying
there not knowing where he was didn't seem like such a
good idea. He opened his eyes. The lights were dim -
he could see - and, that first hurdle cleared, he
turned his head to look over to where he knew the only
other person in the room was. He blinked. It was a
giant blue lion.

"W-what the hell am I on?" Paul muttered. The lion
looked up with a jerk from the paperwork he was
studying so carefully. A pair of tiny yellow glasses
were perched on the broad, furred nose. Paul couldn't
quite suppers his laugh, then he winced at the
wrenching pain in his side.

"Ah - awake, at last my friend." The blue lion came
over. "How are you feeling?"

Paul, sure he was nothing more than some stranger than
usual hallucination, simply watched. Not quite a
lion, more like a blue dyed Disney cartoon character.
Paul snickered weakly. Okay, it had to be a
hallucination. The lion blinked yellow, silted eyes at
him.

"Feeling like shit, Simba." Paul said. "You?"

"Simba?" The lion muttered, ears flicking like a
cat's. Paul watched, aware of the pain increasing
every breath he took. "My name's Hank, young man.
Dr. Hank McCoy and you're quite safe here -"

The lion leaned closer, staring intently at him,
urging Paul to believe him. "No one will hurt you
here."

"Uh-hu. You gonna give me some more dope? I'm -
hurting here, you know."

Dr. McCoy, still blue and furry, checked Paul's drip
and did a brief examination. Paul lay there,
carefully not moving and stared at the ceiling. There
wasn't much point in worrying about where he was, he
wasn't sure he could even stand up, and if the lion
guy would give him more dope, he really didn't *care*
where he was. And the guy seemed really worried about
him, more than that usual, cold doctor fashion. Paul
eyed the blue fur and wondered if he could get the
doctor to give him some stronger stuff.

"Why don't we try some oral painkillers, my friend."
The lion hesitated. "Might I inquire as to what IV
drug you favor?"

"Smack." Paul said. It wasn't like it was a big
secret. Anyone who pulled his arrest records would
see it, he was surprised they'd even asked. The
doctor come back with some Vicodin, Paul recognized
the oval white pills right away and he stared
scornfully at them. "These aren't going to do shit.
What about the morphine - that's what you were giving
me, right?"

The lion ears were flat against the furry head.
"Synthetic morphine, yes. And I'd prefer to start you
on something less - dangerous."

Paul glared up at him, furious but not surprised.
"Sure. Go ahead, why don't you just give me a couple
of fucking aspirin instead! I'm just some fucking
junkie after all - you damn doctors are all the
fucking same! You'll go and hook some stupid ass
yuppie on bennies but ain't gonna give a junkie shit!
Hell, everyone knows we don't feel pain like everyone
else! Maybe you just wanna wheel this bed out and
dump me on the sidewalk - that'll take care of the
problem won't it?"

"That's not the case at all!" The lion protested but
Paul felt the uneasy guilt. He stared pleadingly up
at the imaginary yellow eyes.

"I'm - I'm hurting. Really. I- I don't think the
Vicodin will be enough right now. I - I'm sorry."
Paul shifted slightly and winced. He really was
hurting pretty bad. He lowered his voice, trying to
get the doctor to do what he wanted. Sometimes he
could get people to really stupid things. Like a
doctor giving a junkie more dope. "Please?"

The doctor wavered, pupils dilating under the
influence of Paul's voice.

"I - I know I don't deserve it -" Paul trailed off
sadly, pushing at the doctor with his voice and
dropping his eyes as if he felt guilty. "Just some
street trash -"

"No - do not even think it!" The doctor leaned over
him. "That's not true. That's not true at all, your
circumstances are terrible but certainly nothing you
deserve! You are not *trash*!"

Paul shifted again, moving his bandaged hand as if it
bothered him. It did actually. He blinked up a
couple of tears and the blue guy sighed. Paul bit
back a smile as the doctor turned away, determined to
prove to Paul that he wasn't being treated badly
because he was a junkie. He watched the return of the
needle through half closed eyes, keeping his
expression sad. The rush was almost immediate, when
the imaginary lion injected the IV, and Paul yawned,
blinking sleepily.

"You know you're a blue lion doc?" He said. "You
look like the Disney lawyers are going to come and sue
you for copyright violation."

The ears went back and the doctor gave a massive sigh.
"Yes. My mutation, like yours, includes external
changes. Mine is - more extensive than most. However
I assure you I am a lisecned doctor - not a stand in
for the Broadway 'Beauty and the Beast.'

Paul stared up at him, shocked awake for a moment.
"You mean you really *are* a big blue lion?"

"Of course not! I'm human - Homo superior, actually -
just blue and felinoid -"

Paul stopped paying attention, letting the guy's voice
drone in the background. It felt good to be high. He
didn't hurt at all and he could just float forever.
Or as long as he could get the staff to keep shooting
him up.

When he started coming down again, he found the blue
doctor staring hard at him. He wasn't alone this
time, a pretty red-haired woman was there and -
"Remy?"

His skinny john smiled briefly. He looked tense and
Paul could sense the strong unease in him. "Oui,
cher."

The big guy wasn't around. Paul shifted under the
gaze of the three people, beginning to worry. "Where
am I? I thought this was a hospital."

"A private hospital." The woman said then smiled
reassuringly. Paul didn't feel reassured. They were
all paying way to much attention to him. Things
always went bad when people paid attention to him.
"Is Paul your name? That's what Remy said."

"Yeah." Paul said cautiously. "Paul. Uh - thanks,
for helping me, I mean. But - um I c-can't pay for
some private hospital."

"That's quite alright, young man." The blue furry
doctor said reassuringly. "We're not expecting you to
provide us with finical remuneration."

Paul tried to push himself up and winced, sinking back
against the bed. He cradled his hand carefully on his
lap. "W-what the hell do you mean? What do you want
with me?"

He stared wildly, suspiciously at Remy. What had he
told these people. "Is this that - that school? The
one on the card."

The woman smiled. "Yes. That's exactly it, Paul.
This is a school. I'm Jean Gray, a teacher here.
You've met Dr. McCoy and Remy already."

"Yeah. Sure." Paul said. "You a teacher here,
Remy?"

"Non. Do - other t'ings."

Paul flushed. "Other things. 'Kay. So - what are
you gonna want me to pay you with? Other things?
Gotta get better first if you want me to whore for -"

"No!" The woman cried, flushing a startled crimson.
"No, Paul. No - that's not what we want. We want to
help you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a mutant." She said. "Like all of
us."

Paul stared at her, shuddered. Of course. His eyes.
They knew. Paul looked back at Remy and the man
stared levelly at him with those red on black eyes.
"So, you're just gonna blow all this money on me
because I'm some mutant?"

"Oui."

Paul lay back and snorted. "Hell, what a bunch of
shit."

Remy sighed. "Still de same. No trust, eh? Paul - "

He rolled his head on the pillow to look up at the
man's thin face. "What?"

"You're eyes, homme." Remy shifted, glancing briefly
at the woman and Dr. McCoy. The two showed no sign of
leaving. "Dey like mine, oui?"

Paul shrugged. They had his contacts. His eyes were
pretty obvious now. "So?"

"You - Remy was abandoned when he was a chile. Don
remember his pa'ents." Remy leaned closer to him, and
Paul could feel the urgency rolling off him. Taste
the desperation. "You 'ave family? Where you come
from? De pa'ents like - you - like us?"

Paul stared up at him. "What, you think I'm your long
lost brother or something? That'd be pretty funny
hun?"

Remy tensed and his eyes darted briefly to his friends
before fixing hard on Paul. He realized that the
Cajun guy hadn't told his friends just *how* he'd met
Paul. Paul smiled faintly and met the man's eyes. He
had a hook on the man.

"Don know, homme." Remy shrugged casually, watching
Paul, his emotions shifting from urgent curiosity to
wariness. Then became even more guarded and that
ugly, cottony pressure in Paul's head came back. He
snapped his eyes closed, swallowing hard at the
discomfort and the nausea he'd been feeling lately
surged back. He was gonna puke.

Paul scrabbled at the bed with his good hand,
struggling to roll over, already heaving. Cried out
in pain as the wound in his side was wrenched.

"He's goin' be sick!" Remy's hands were on him,
helping him, flooding Paul with concern, mistrust,
hope - too much. Sobbing, Paul threw up, barely
managing to hang his head over the side rather than
puke all over himself.

The heaves went on and on and he hurt so much. The
blue mutant doctor was there and the woman, wiping his
face, cleaning up with reassuring words while Paul lay
on the bed cried in misery. The last thing he felt
was someone wiping his face gently with a damp cloth.
Remy.

************************************

Logan's footsteps paused at his door and Remy opened
his eyes at the quiet knock.

"Remy awake, homme."

Logan came in, closing the door behind himself. It
was very late, everyone else in the mansion was
probably asleep. Remy was sitting up in bed,
finishing a last cigarette and his usual, soothing
game of solitaire.

"Figured y'still be up." Logan muttered, pulling the
desk chair out and straddling it. Looked like the
Wolverine wanted to talk. Remy lit up another
cigarette.

"Drive Remy nuts, all de morning people here." He
said. "Not'ing to do late at night, less he go to the
city."

"Guess living in a family of thieves, everyone's up at
night, huh?"

Remy tipped his head agreeably, waiting. This wasn't
what the man had come to talk about.

"How's the kid?"

"Eh -" Remy frowned. "Still sick - puking every day,
mostly. Henri do more tests an' more tests an don
know why de kid so sick. Don got AIDs, not any VD.
Paul said he been sick for a couple of weeks. Say it
jus de flu, Henri don believe him. But healing de
knife wounds' good anyway. Getting restless -"

"Yeah. Got Bobby t'clean his room up and get the
other bed ready." Logan shrugged. "Guess Hank's
gonna let him out soon."

"D'accord." Remy exhaled watching the jump and dart
of energy in the smoke, bright enough to cast a glare
the dark room, in his eyes anyway. He wondered if
Paul saw like he did. The glitter of potential energy
in the air, blinding during the day under the exiting
light of the sun. Remembered the boy wearing
sunglasses at night and maybe they hadn't been a style
statement. "De boy - he know we didn't tell de
Professur 'bout - "

"Fucking him." Logan finished bluntly.

"Oui. Paul don believe us - dat we want to help him.
T'inks we gonna use him somehow." Remy grinned
briefly. "Told Henri and Jean dat he gotta heal up
before he can whore for dem. Shoulda seen Jean's
face."

Logan snorted and rubbed his face uneasily. "Don't
much like the idea of the kid holding something over
our head, gumbo. He's scared and might try to use it
against us."

"Oui. Remy know it, saw him realize he's holding de
high card on us."

Logan sighed, resting his chin on his folded arms.
Remy watched him, those hard features were so
deceptive. The mean Wolverine could be as soft as a
baby and as hard as - He cut the thought off,
shifting uncomfortably. Didn't want the man smelling
his hard-on. Those dark eyes snapped open.

"Remy."

"Eh -" He prompted when Logan didn't say anything
else. This was what the man had come to his room in
the middle of the night to talk about. He could feel
it.

"When we were - fucking the kid - I don't remember
much but I remember you kissed me. Why'd ya do it?"

"B'cause you wanted me to, homme." Remy said. "An
Remy wanted to."

He could feel the flush from here and fought back the
smile, heart beating hard in sudden hope. Maybe he
could give his left hand a break.

"You been wanting to kiss Remy awhile, homme." He
said softly. "Remy know it."

"Shit." Logan said softly, but fiercely. "Why t'
hell didn't ya say anything?"

Remy snorted. "Why you not say anyt'ing? Remy know a
lot of t'ings he shouldn't, homme. Learned when to
keep his mouth shut - most of de time anyway. Remy
t'ink you know t'ings too, eh? W'hat dat nose tells
you - you don't repeat, non?"

Logan shifted and shrugged in agreement. "Guess so."

Remy nodded. "So? You want to kiss Remy again? Or
was dat one time enough?"

Logan shifted and his attention drifted to Remy's
mouth. Remy stayed very still as the other man
abandoned the chair and came over to sit on his bed.
He hesitated at the last moment, the thief could
practically taste his uncertainty and desire. Remy
tipped his head up and closed his eyes. The bed
dipped as Logan leaned closer and the Cajun felt the
gentle, hesitant touch of the man's mouth on his. He
couldn't help his seeking response and didn't want to.
Remy opened his mouth under Logan's, let the tip of
his tongue stroke over the other man's lip, urging him
to deepen the kiss.

Logan groaned softly and caught up the thief in his
arms. His kisses grew demanding, hard though Remy
could tell he was trying to be careful of his teeth.
Remy leaned against the man's heavy chest, answering
his eagerness with his own. He clutched at Logan's
hair, protesting against his lips, when he tried to
pull back.

"Gotta get my clothes off, gumbo" Logan said
breathlessly. "Drivin' me nuts."

"Oui - yea, homme. Remy want you naked."

Logan stood and stripped quickly, avoiding Remy's
hungry gaze. The thief could tell he was still
uncomfortable, but determined. Remy's gaze dropped to
the man's cock - Logan was partly hard, thick and
heavy and swaying hypnotically. Remy licked his lips
convulsively and reached out, pulling Logan to the
edge of the bed with a hand on his hip. He took the
semi-hard cock in his mouth without hesitation,
feeling it surge and swell rapidly as Logan's hand
clenched hard in his hair.

"Ah - Christ, Remy!" Logan's hips jerked and the rush
of raw pleasure made Remy moan. "Give a warning -
shit. Man, that's good."

"Mmm - d'accord." Remy let his cock slide free and
licked his way up the spill of dark hair on Logan's
chest. He sucked on a nipple, nibbling lightly and
pulled the other man onto the bed with him. Logan
pulled at his boxers and Remy lifted his hips eagerly.

The man's mouth was back on his, sucking at his lips,
nipping. The thief felt the sharp sting of his teeth
and tasted blood. Logan mumbled an apology, sucking
on the small cut. Remy trailed his fingernails down
the man's back, smiling as he gasped loudly and bit
his neck. They were already moving together, Logan
was humping urgently against Remy's thigh and the
thief's cock was rubbing deliciously in trail of dark
hair on the man's belly.

Remy tore his mouth from Logan's, panting for air.
The heat between them was sharp, the burn of Logan's
urgent desire, somewhat confused but honest affection
and real nervousness was touching. Remy stroked the
man's hair, Logan turned into the caress.

"Can I fuck ya, Remy?" Logan breathed against his
chest, licking a nipple. Remy squirmed under the
touch, moaning at the thought of Logan inside him.
He'd been jealous of Paul, back then, watching Logan
drive into him.

"Ah - Oui - Dieu, yes." He gasped, arching up
shamelessly. "Remy w'ant dat too."

Logan slid down him, mouthing Remy's skin, sucking,
biting, growling under his breath. He wasn't
uncertain anymore. Remy could feel it. Feel the
man's pleasure, feeding his own. Remy reached to
stroke Logan's cock then turned on his belly, lifting
to his hands and knees and offered himself up to the
man's hunger. "In de drawer, homme. Lube."

Logan grunted and leaned over Remy, pausing to rub
against him and dip down to bite his back gently.
Remy shivered. The man liked to use his mouth and he
wondered if Logan could be coaxed into using his mouth
other places. The thought of Logan sucking his cock
made Remy hiss under his breath and push back against
the cock nudging his ass.

"Ah - this shit's cold!" Logan complained, smearing
his cock with gel. Remy snickered.

"Remy ain't cold, cher. He warm you right up." He
shivered when he felt Logan's cock slide between his
legs then nudge his balls. Logan grabbed his hip,
pulling him up a little, Remy arched his back, his
cock a heavy weight between his legs, and felt Logan
press agianst him.

"Ah - easy der, homme." He gasped at the abrupt ache.
Logan stilled, groaning a little. "Go slow, been a
while for ol' Remy."

"God, Christ - Remy - " Logan panted, edging in
carefully, hands shaking on the thief's skin. "Damn,
you're tight. So good - jesus."

Remy closed his eyes, savoring the weight and feel,
even the pain of the first few thrusts. Rode Logan's
visceral delight, the man was loving every second,
every touch, every taste. Remy loved him loving it.
His cock was drooling all over the sheets and every
time Logan thrust the pleasure would stab through him
like a knife. Remy spread his knees wider with a
whine, begining to push back agianst the other man's
rhythm. Logan rocked into him, leaning over his back,
panting.

"Chirst, you're a sweet as a girl, Remy." He gasped,
clutching the sheets and buring his face in Remy's
long hair. Remy groaned, pissed, and pried one of
Logan's hands off the bed. He shaped the thick
fingers around his desperate cock.

"Feel dat? Remy - ain't no girl, homme."

Logan groaned deeply and began to pull on his cock in
time to his thrusts. Remy wailed softly, trapped in
the rhythm, the stroke on his cock echoing the stroke
in his ass. Hot breath on the back of his neck and a
wet mouth sucking his skin, Logan's heat and hunger
and pleasure like a deep tide caring him away. Logan
was already close - was close and slamming
convulsively into Remy's ass. Coming - they were both
coming - Logan sinking his teeth into Remy's shoulder
while the thief yelled and shot all over the man's
fingers. Cried out again, sharing Logan's feelings,
as he clamped around Lgoan's buried cock and the other
man practically screamed at the feel of it.

Remy braced himself, sobbing for air, as Logan
collapsed on his back. The man's cock was still
twitching and jerking inside him, going soft. They
both groaned when it slipped out and they were finally
separated.

"H-heavy, homme." Remy finally managed and Logan
fumbled his way off Remy's back. The Canadian flopped
onto Remy's bed, staring at the ceiling and catching
his breath. Remy dropped onto the bed, panting into
the pillow. Logan's hand ran down his back. He
wasn't just going to leave then, after fucking, like
so many men did.

The thief turned to look at Logan's profile. Not a
handsome man, no. But Remy had his fill of handsome
men. "Remy get closer? Dat okay?"

He asked because so many men like Logan, men who
didn't fuck men, men who tried to pretend he was a
girl, men who were used to thinking with their fists
and their dicks, didn't want anything to do with Remy
once they stopped thinking with their little head. He
didn't believe Logan would hurt him, really, but - if
Logan was going to get all outraged, Remy wanted to
know now.

The Canadian rolled his head to eye Remy, then
shifted, pulling the slender thief against his side.
Remy sighed, snuggled in, and closed his eyes. He
stroked the hairy chest slowly and smiled when Logan
shivered. The man was ticklish. Something to know.
Logan rubbed his stubbly chin against Remy's hair.
The thief kissed his neck, licking up salt.

"The kid." Logan said after a while of drowsy
silence. "Shit - what the hell we gonna do?"

Remy shifted, hit with a startling pang of jealousy
and desire. Paul was like him. More like him than
anyone he'd ever met. His eyes, something of his
powers, perhaps. And he remembered how *good* the kid
had felt. Clever mouth. Long sweet cock. And
something else. So close, so hot. So hungry and the
three of them tangled together on cheap sheets, Paul's
pure pleasure binding them all together. The thief
still dreamed of it and he'd bet that Logan did too.

It wasn't something you forgot. Just like he couldn't
forget that Paul was underage, desperate, and fucking
to stay alive.

"Don know." Remy sighed. "Jean gonna figure it out -
he don strike Remy like someone who keeps secrets
good."

"Na." Logan was running his fingers through Remy's
hair and that was a pleasure so unexpected, so gentle,
that Remy nearly wept. Been a long, long time since
he'd had any tenderness.

"Gonna tell Wheels."

"Dieu! Non!" Remy sat bolt upright. "De protestant
white mutant scion of de wealthy hisself? De man
probably voted for Regan! He'll kill us!"

Logan smirked. "Forget y'still kinda new here, gumbo.
Ya avoid 'paths like the plague. Y'don't know as
much about him as ya think. Y'ever wonder why he and
Eric - Magneto - always goin' after each other like
cats an'dogs? Ya wonder why he always takes Marie
back - when she spends half her time with Mystique?
He ain't the upright, uptight white man he acts."

"So he ain't gonna have a problem wid us fucking de
kid an lying about it?"

Logan sighed. "Oh, he'll have a cow alright. But ya
don't wanna see him if he has to find out when the kid
tries to blackmail us or lets it spill just to piss us
off. Ya think Jeannie's got a temper. That man's
hair was red, when he had it, too."

TBC