Title: Old friends, new jealousies
Author: Sarita
Email: s.riley@southampton.gov.ukPairing: Logan / Scott
Rating: R - No actual sex but m/m relationship referred to, violence and swearing.
Archive: List archive, anyone else i've previously said yes to, otherwise drop ma line and ask - the answer will almost certainly be yes (I just like a reminder of what sites to visit for other fics!)
Notes: This is set a little while after my previous fic 'Cold'. In responce to feedback that took one little bit of that story (a reference to Scott having a pretty decent temper as well as Logan)and requested that I write in a scene where the lovers have a fight. I took them very literally!Visit my page 'Red Expressions' at www.oocities.org/mutieuk for more like this.
-----------------------------Logan could feel his teeth grinding together again. It made his jaw ache fiercely but the pain in his mouth was a welcome distraction from the anger and pain inside. * There - he was doing it again, Bastard! * Logan felt his fury rising like bile in his throat as he watched the blond man lean over the back of the sofa and drape his forearms over his lover's shoulders, share a smile and a low throaty laugh before the blond man reached down and snatched the book that rested on a denim clad lap, removing any distraction that may thwart his overt flirting. Logan clenched his fists tightly, feeling the claws pressing just beneath the surface, demanding release. Demanding that he sink them up to their hilts in the blond mans' perfectly toned stomach. He could almost taste the hot salt and copper of blood. No wait - could taste it. In his fury he had bitten through his damn tongue. He narrowed his eyes and glared at the blond man, Warren Worthington the something or other. Blond hair, blue eyed, tanned, toned and rich to the point of obscenity. "Angel" Ororo had called him when he'd arrived. Well he could get those perfectly manicured hands of his damn lover or he'd be joining his mate Gabriel in heaven pretty damn soon!
Finally Logan could bear it no more. With a snarl he rose from the easy chair he slouched in, startling `Ro from her perusal of Jean's copy of Elle. She watched as Logan stalked from the room, fury radiating from him like heat from the sun. She glanced over at Warren and the object of his current attention. The bomb was certainly primed, the only question was how long it would take to go off. Carefully closing the magazine and placing it neatly on the coffee table she rose. If she was any kind of judge of character, and she liked to think she usually was, she didn't want to be anywhere near this particular thunderstorm when the clouds broke. Time to create some personal sunshine to get lost in for a while.
Logan parked the bike, shrugging water off his jacket. The weather outside matched his mood. Black. He'd taken the bike for a spin hoping to work out some of his anxiety. When that failed he'd hit one of the local bars, then a few of said bars patrons and felt no better for it. It was long past midnight and he felt wired. He stomped through the halls of the mansion not much caring who he woke and shoved open the bedroom door. The room was a welter of dark shadows and patches of moonlight slanting through the half drawn curtains. The bundle under the bed covers shifted restlessly at the sudden noise of the door slamming shut. Logan shrugged of his boots and jacket, letting them fall carelessly to the floor as he stomped over to the bed and sat on the edge facing the door.
"What time is it?" came the sleepy mumble from under the covers.
Logan gave the covers a cursory glance. "Obviously too late for you to care enough to wait up for me. Off to bed on your own, `least I assume alone." He glared off toward the door again as the bed shifted slightly beneath him. He could feel the eyes boring into the back of his head but he wouldn't turn and meet that gaze. He felt the bed shift again and then heard the soft slap of bare feet against the polished wooden floor. Logan watched as his lover pulled several items of clothing from the dresser. He regretted his next words instantly, knew he shouldn't be reacting like this but he felt so angry, so spiteful he just couldn't help it. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, going to him?"
"If you can ask, think, that then you have no right to know where I'm going or to care." Scott's face was utterly blank as he shut the door quietly behind him in stark contrast to Logan's entrance.
Logan rose and took a step toward the door then sat down again , rubbing his palms furiously against his knees. A second later he was back on his feet and tearing the door open. He wasn't sure what he was going to say but words were unnecessary , the corridor was empty. For a brief moment he considered following the scent trail and he hovered in the doorway, torn. With a shake of his head he decided he was still to angry to say the right things now. Better left `till breakfast when they'd both had a chance to calm down.
Scott wasn't at breakfast and neither was Worthington. Logan's hard fought calm evaporated as his mind went into over drive. Sure he was overreacting, but he was Wolverine god damn it, he was supposed to overreact. Scott was his and the thought of anyone else even remotely attracting his interest burned him. Even if Scott wasn't interested , Worthington clearly was and Logan wasn't about to stand by and let that run it's course. He stormed down to the Danger Room wondering how he could programme one of the combat drones to look like it had wings!
He angrily punched the access code into the control module for a third time and again got the `no entry' light . With a snarl of frustration he popped a claw and punched it through the centre of the console. The door hissed open and he suddenly found himself hurtling backwards through the air, a crushing pain in his chest and the vague notion of red light surrounding him. He landed ten feet down the corridor, stunned, as his healing factor fought to keep him conscious. His vision cleared and a black clad figure hove into view above him. The red light behind the visor gave him a clear idea of what had just happened.
"You stupid son of a... there are locks and safety protocols for the Danger Room for a reason, Logan." Scott's head shifted slightly as he looked Logan up and down. Apparently satisfied he'd live he spun on his heel and stalked back into the X-Men's training room. Logan scrambled to his feet and stormed after him. He paused in the entrance and stared at the damage that surrounded him. Debris littered the room, training drones smashed to smithereens or crushed beyond recognition. Cyclops so often used his power with surgical precision it was easy to forget the sheer destructive capabilities of those eyes. It looked like the four horsemen of the apocalypse had had a going out of business party and invited a lot of friends. Logan slowly turned to face Scott. He closed the door behind him and watched the younger man pick up his towel and stride towards him.
"Get out, Logan. No-one uses the Danger Room without supervision until we repair the damage to the control module."
"So supervise," snapped Logan, angry at the way Scott was reacting. He had just punched the kid ten feet down the corridor!
Scott stood silent, his face blank. "Find someone else to pull this testosterone bullshit on, Logan I have better things to do with my time than worry who pissed in your beer this morning," he said finally.
Logan could smell the white hot fury radiating from Summers in stark contrast to his blank, calm expression. What the fuck did he have to be angry about, it was Logan who had cause to be bent out of shape wasn't it? "Am I keeping you from something, Cyclops? Someone else need your attention right now hero?"
Scott leaned closer to Logan until their noses almost touched, his lips thinned. Logan had to resist the urge to kiss that nose despite his current fury. Summers on the other hand definitely didn't have kissing on his mind. "Do you have a problem you want to discuss with me, Logan," he asked in an icy whisper.
Logan smiled, feral and predatory. "Oh it's not my problem kid, but yeah we do have something to discuss."
Scott backed off slowly, loose and relaxed. "Okay, Wolverine, take your best shot."
Scott's calm, smug demeanour just stoked Logan's fires higher. He hated this deceptive pose. Summers looked calm but radiated fury in his scent. Over time he had adjusted to reading Scott despite the ever-present glasses but the wall had gone up between them again. Logan rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck to each side to loosen up and then without warning threw a punch at Summers face.
He ducked aside and smiled coldly. "Slow, must be all the metal in your bones old man. You can do better than that, Wolverine."
It was about that point that all hell broke loose in the Danger Room for a second time that morning.
Scott scythed low intent on sweeping Logan's legs out from under him and the older man had to leap high to avoid the move. He countered with a forearm punch at the throat, followed with a flurry of heavy kicks to Scott's flanks. Using forearms to block the heaviest blows and absorbing the rest by using the Kevlar protecting his ribs as padding, Scott retaliated with a roundhouse kick that spun Logan around. He had no time to follow up the move as Logan continued the spin to put momentum behind his punch to the abdomen. Scott's folding over Logan's' arm saved him from more serious injury as Logan's' other arm came around in a backhanded blow that would have connected with his temple had he still been upright. Steeling his leg muscles, Scott straightened, using Logan's own momentum to lift him up and over in a flip. Logan rolled out and away as soon as he hit the floor and Scott warily circled him. Logan was a lot slower than Scott, but he was heavier and stronger when it came to sheer brute force. Although Logan's current fighting style was 'street', Scott knew that he could match his own martial arts skills. Another of his talents he didn't know or remember how he'd acquired. Scott's best chance of coming out of this unscathed lay in using Logan's strength against him and keep moving faster. Trouble was, he was already sweating and Logan had that damn healing factor going for him.
Logan snarled and launched a flurry of kicks and punches toward Scott's upper body, driving the younger man back towards the Danger Room wall where he could pin him. At the very last moment block turned to attack and Logan staggered, trying to catch his breath from an elbow chop to the windpipe. Scott ducked under his arm as he staggered and he found himself shoved head first into the metal wall, his nose crunching painfully on contact. He snapped his foot out behind him and heard a satisfying thunk as he connected just above Scott's knee. Logan shook his head to clear the stars, spinning back around in a feral crouch as Scott hopped awkwardly backwards, favouring his leg. Sensing the upper hand, Logan pressed again, letting his metabolism and healing factor push the fight to a high level of activity he knew Summers couldn't sustain for long. He hadn't counted on the kids flexibility or gymnastic ability. Scott took two running steps to meet his charge and leapt, his boot connecting solidly with Logan's' chin as he twisted into a spin over his head. Unfortunately he landed a fraction too close to Logan and got an elbow in his face before he could twist away. Staggered by the blow, he missed Logan's' next punch and it took him clean off his feet.
Scott could taste blood in his mouth, a split lip most probably. He rolled to avoid Logan's follow through and used his legs to tangle and trip Logan before slamming the back of his heel into Logan's solar plexus. The breath whooshed out of him and he folded around Scott's leg, his weight pinning Scott to the floor. In seconds he had used that advantage to roll onto Scott only to be flipped again, this time over Scott's shoulder. Scott was halfway to his feet when Logan slammed his arm around in a backhand blow that just caught the edge of his cheek. His visor span away as he was knocked onto his back, dazed, but with his eyes clamped tightly shut. Logan growled in victory and was stunned when Scott arched his back and flipped himself to his feet, sending punch after kick his way and driving him backwards. Each and every one connected and he realised Scott was using sound, his own laboured breathing, to guide him. Despite his anger, despite the red mist that had descended when the fight had started he was impressed. The kid just didn't give up. Reality slowly seeped into Logan's' thoughts as he looked closely at Scott. The sight of the kid without the visor always undid him, he looked so young and open. And very, very battered. Logan felt his stomach congeal when he took in the punishment he'd inflicted. The kids lip was split, his cheek and jaw bruised and he had no doubt that there were bruises and injuries elsewhere too. He hadn't actually meant to hurt Scott, just wanted his attention, just wanted him. To be Logan's and no one else's.
Scott had backed away. His stance bespoke a readiness to continue, alert and ready for whatever Logan tried next. His face expressionless. Logan smiled. Ice to his Fire. When Logan fought it was with all the passion and exertion of a wild animal trying to escape a trap, ready to chew his own arm off to win if necessary. Blind rage tempered only by the tactical soldier part of his brain. Scott fought with an icy calm and economy of movement that was no less deadly for it's silence. He was like a tactical computer, always three steps ahead of his next move, but no less furious than Logan himself was. He just directed his rage internally rather than screaming it to the world. For the first time since this began building a couple of days ago, Logan realised that Scott was as royally pissed with him as he'd ever seen the man. He opened his mouth to say something then snapped it shut again. "We're done," he said finally, fatigue and guilt softening his voice.
"You don't get to decide that, Logan" Scott snapped. "I've put up with your crap all week but last night was the last straw."
"My crap," Logan was incredulous. "I'm not the one who's been spending all his time with the winged wonder."
"So that's what this is all about."
Logan snorted. "What did you think, I was just going to ignore all the flirting going on."
Scott strode toward Logan and stopped just short of the older man. Even without the visor, he knew exactly where he was. "If you don't trust me then there is no point in any of this. I know where I stand and I guess I really don't mean anything to you after all." Scott's voice never rose above a tight controlled whisper. He turned away only to be stopped by Logan's firm grip around his upper arm.
"Don't mean anything to me ? Why do you think this has got me so bent out of shape. I thought we meant something to each other. I may not be much in the looks department, I may not have pretty boys' charm or whatever but I do care. Maybe too much." Logan turned angrily, "and who said I didn't trust you?"
He watched as the muscles in Summers jaw clenched and unclenched. Finally through gritted teeth he replied, "Warren has been one of my best friends since we first came here and I'm not about to stop talking to every male friend I may have just because it upsets you. I'm with you, not him. I have no intention of ever being the next notch on Warrens bed post. What hurts, what really pisses me off is that you clearly think I'm going to just fuck some other guy because he flirts a little. That you think so little of me, that is what last night was all about. Well you know what Logan, you can stuff it. I don't belong to you and I won't spend my life worrying about whether talking to another guy is going bend you all out of shape." Scott's voice lost any semblance of calm towards the end and he turned away sharply unable to keep the emotion off his face.
Logan was at a loss for words. He had a horrible feeling that unless he made this better right now, it would never be better again. He knew he'd been acting all out of proportion it was in his nature to over react and hit first, think later. He also knew that this was not about his feelings or his trust in Scott. It wasn't Scott he was angry with, not Scott he wanted to hurt. Now how the hell could he convince Scott of that after this.
"I'm sorry," he said simply. He came around in front of Scott, for once regretting the lack of visor so that Scott could see his sincerity. "I do trust you, I just don't trust, or like, him. When I saw him flirting with you it got to me. I'm not immune. I... get jealous." He sighed, "look Scott I can't even say it won't happen again. Truth be told you mean enough to me I can almost guarantee it will. What would you prefer, that I didn't care enough to get this worked up?"
Logan reached tentatively for Scott's cheek, rubbing his fingertips over the bruises rising there. "I certainly didn't mean this."
"If you have a problem with Warren, you take it to him. Like me, he'll give as good as he gets but I warn you Logan - don't take it too far. I won't tolerate something like that happening over me. I didn't exactly like you flirting with Jean, but I didn't go back and bitch at her about it, whatever the end result. As for this..." He gestured around the room " I was as much a part of this as you. I warned you once before I have a temper, I just wish I had the damn healing factor to go with it."
Logan stepped closer, breathing in Scott's scent, aware that Scott's anger had dissipated. He was tense and unhappy but not angry. "So are we okay then?"
Scott smiled, wincing slightly when it pulled at his lip. "I don't think it's something we can't get past as long as we talk to each other. It would help if you could find my visor."
Logan grinned and jogged over to the corner of the room where it had landed. As he returned to Scott he noticed that the younger man had again picked up his towel from where he'd thrown it by the door. Scott had clearly decided he'd spent enough time in the danger room for one day.
"It looks okay," he said as he handed the visor back to Scott.
Scott ran his fingers over the inside of the device carefully testing the seals and lenses before raising it to his face. "It's not that I don't take your word for it Logan, but I know what I'm looking for and you don't. Any slight crack or defect in the quartz or mechanism and I could kill you so just do me a favour and stand behind me."
"You didn't kill me when you tossed me on my ass in the corridor," Logan muttered coming around behind him in any case.
Scott turned again, visor in place and clearly working properly. "You caught the tail end of a blow focussed on a drone fifteen feet in front of you on low power." He smiled with grim humour. "If I'd been aiming at you there wouldn't have been anything left above the waist to heal. Why do you think I was so scared when I realised what I'd done."
"Scared," Logan snorted, "you took one look at me and went right back to what you were doing. You could have at least helped me up."
Logan took one look at the warning look on Scott's face and grinned. He'd get a lecture on use of the Danger Room if he didn't back off this subject quickly. It was one of Scott's more irritating ways of dealing with his emotions. "So are we at the stage where we can kiss and make up?"
"I think you've done enough damage to my mouth for one day thank you." Scott regretted the words the instant they left him. He'd meant it to be a light joke comment but the look of contrition that shot across Logan's face was telling. "Do you know how to massage?" he asked quickly to divert any further apology.
Logan looked puzzled. "Basically," he answered.
"Okay, if you really want to help right now you can get me out of this damn uniform and help get my muscles working again. Everything is seizing up after that workout."
Logan let a wicked little grin cross his features as he nudged Scott's shoulder. "Right here, Scooter?"
"Fuck you, Logan."
"If you really think you have the energy, Slim, why not."
The End