Canadian Nights: The Story of the Last Night Chapter 15 by Mo
Disclaimer: The X-Men and Alpha Flight belong to Marvel. The movie belongs to Fox. I do feel like Scott and Logan are a little bit mine since I've been borrowing them for so long.
I knew he wasn't going to like it. That's why I waited to tell him - didn't want to spoil the visit. Still, it was getting late. At dinner on his last night here he told Oliver they should both pack up that evening since they'd be leaving early in the morning. Oliver shot me this look that clearly said, "So when are you going to tell him?" I tried giving him one back that said, "When he's feeling more compliant, maybe after I fuck him tonight," but I'm not sure my look was quite as clear.
When we got to my room I told him to take off all of his clothes. Just looked at him for a few minutes. Then I went over to the bed, sat down, told him to come over and stand in front of me. Stroked him a little, sucked him a little, asked him what he wanted me to do. "Fuck me, Logan," he said. "Please."
I told him to get down on the floor on all fours. Got him ready, got on top of him. Didn't put it in, though, just lay there on his back with my cock right at the opening. "Ask me again," I said, and he did. So, I pushed into him, a bit at a time, until my balls were pressed tight against him. Started fucking him slow and deep, pulling on his cock with my hand with each stroke. "Do you like it like that, Scott?" I asked.
"Oh yes, Logan," he said. "Make it last a long time."
I kept going slow. Feeling a little chatty, maybe because he was leaving. "This is how I did you the first time we fucked, Scott," I reminded him. "On the floor in that motel in Medicine Hat."
"That was the second time, but who's counting." Pushing back slow, meeting my strokes.
I laughed, told him I'd forgotten, that it had felt like the first time. And then talked to him just like I had that time. "I love riding you, Scott. Your cock is so hard in my hand. Your ass is so tight and hot. Nobody feels like you, Scott."
And he answered me like back then, too. "I missed you, Logan. I want you all the time. I belong to you, Logan."
The talking was making me hotter and I was fucking him harder and faster now. Pushing on his prostate; tugging on his cock. Loving the sounds he makes, almost there. "Come for me, Scott," I told him. "Come hard." And he did, moaning and whimpering a little. Then I told him to stay real still while I finished, humping him hard and letting the claws come out with the cum. It was good, so good. I knew I was going to miss this.
Got into bed with him afterwards and told him that. "Me, too," he said. "I keep trying to think of some way to stay longer, but I can't. I need to get back home, back to work. Oliver needs to get back to school."
I figured it was time to tell him. Past time. "Oliver's not going back with you, Scott. Not yet. He's staying here with me and Jean-Paul. Just for a few more weeks. I've got work for him to do."
"He can't, Logan. I'll send you somebody else, someone long term. He needs to go back to school."
"Not yet. There's not just the well, you know. I need to map out this whole property, figure out what's underground, see where it's best to build. I've got somebody here with x-ray eyes, I'm going to make the most of him. It's all decided."
"What do you mean 'it's all decided'? You can't decide this stuff. I'm sorry, Logan, but I'm responsible for him. I need to make these decisions. I'm in loco parentis."
"I wouldn't worry about that, Cyclops. You're doing better than his parents, anyway. They threw him out to starve. And he would have if he hadn't been a rent boy." Waited a while. "Just like you."
"How do you know what Oliver did when he was on the street?" I told him Oliver had told me. He looked surprised. I said I hadn't told Oliver they had that in common, but I did wonder why he hadn't told him.
"I don't know. I didn't think it would help him. I didn't think it was his business. I don't even know why we're talking about this, anyway. The point is - Oliver's leaving with me."
"No, he's not, Scott."
"He'll never be willing to stay here with you."
"He wants to stay here. He's been giving me a hard time for not telling you earlier." He kind of sputtered a little at that, didn't know what to say. "He wants to be useful, wants to make the most of his powers. He's looking forward to working on this a bit longer. And Scott, I don't know what the deal is, but he seems a little uncomfortable around you. Have you noticed? Maybe it's better for him if the two of you are apart for a while. Is he mad at you for something?"
He didn't answer for a long while. The red glow behind his glasses disappeared as he closed his eyes. "He saw us fucking," he said, finally. "With his x-ray vision. It's changed how he thinks of me, I guess. He feels awkward. Maybe mad, too. I'm not sure."
"But he's fine with me. How come?"
"I don't know. Maybe he thinks it only counts if you're the bottom. Or maybe because I hadn't told him about you and me - he thought it was rape at first, thought he was going to rescue me. So he might feel bad about misunderstanding what was going on. Might be mad at me for not telling him what was going on. I don't know. I can't be expected to unravel the psycho-sexual weirdnesses of a mixed-up teenager."
I told him I didn't think that being mad when someone lied to you was particularly weird or particularly mixed up.
"I'm not discussing this, Logan," he said, sounding really mad now. "The point is: Oliver's coming home with me tomorrow. That's final."
"No, he's not. He'll be fine here. Look, we'll work as fast as we can. I'll keep it to just two or three weeks if I can, okay? And then we won't just put him on a plane. Jean-Paul or I will bring him home when I'm done with him."
"Done with him?" His eyes were open again, the red glow looking brighter, angrier. "How about me, Logan? You done with me? You moving on to Oliver?"
I didn't hit him. I'm pretty proud of myself for that. Just said "I don't fuck kids. I hate people who fuck kids." He said that Oliver doesn't look like a kid and I told him I don't think that has anything to do with anything.
"Why didn't you tell him about you and me, Scott?" I asked, figuring I'd better change the subject if I was going to keep on not hitting him.
"I didn't think he could handle it. He's got a lot of issues about gay men. I didn't think it would be good for him to know."
"Well, now he knows. Knows that we fuck, anyway. Have you talked to him about us, or just about what he saw? Does he think that's all it is? Does he have any idea what you and me were to each other?"
The "were" hung between us. I could almost see it there in the air. Wished I could pull it back. Waited for him to ask me if I meant it, but he didn't. Didn't say anything. Neither did I. We just lay there silently for a long time. "What about his studies?" he said, finally.
I told him we had that worked out. He'd learn some stuff. Jean-Paul was going to teach him French; I'd teach him wilderness survival. He'd learn some important skills. He could pick up with his regular classes back in Westchester.
Scott listened to the plans. He asked a couple of questions. He never said "okay" but he stopped saying "no" and I left it at that.
Jean-Paul took him to the airport the next day. Oliver and I stayed and worked. The three of us worked all the following day. And lots of days after that, all the daylight hours.
We were a good team. Worked hard, no whining. "Resolute, dumb, uncomplaining, a man in a world of men". Still thinking of some of the poems he taught me sometimes. Still thinking of him, sometimes.
In the evenings I'd go out. I found a place around forty miles away - a truck stop. I'd sit there and drink coffee and wait for the right one. Right one for that night, anyway. Someone tall and thin, maybe with long fingers and a wry kind of smile, too. The right smell when he looked at me - fear and sex all mixed together. Meet his gaze, leave with him. Fuck him in his truck and then go back to the house.
If I got back early, Jean-Paul and Oliver would be up, playing chess or reviewing irregular verbs. They never asked me where I'd been. If it was late, the house would be dark.
Scott called most nights. The first few times Jean-Paul told me he called, said he wanted me to call him back. After that he stopped saying, although I'd hear him on the phone with Scott sometimes. I don't know if he stopped asking for me or Jean-Paul just felt it wasn't worth passing on the message any more.
I called him when we were done surveying the property. "Come pick him up, Scott," I said. "I know a place you can land the Blackbird. It's far enough away from everything. No one will see you. I'll give you the coordinates."
The three of us went there through the woods. Oliver was doing good, kept up with us, didn't leave a trail. He'd learned a lot.
The jet was there. Scott got out. Hugged Jean-Paul, shook Oliver's hand. Didn't touch me. Just said he wanted to talk to me for a minute. We walked off a ways from the other two. "We need you to come back to Westchester for a couple of days," he said. "I tried to talk to you about it on the phone, but you hung up too quickly. Charles wants you to report on what's happened so far and we need to figure out who's coming up here next."
I told him I didn't think it was such a good idea. "It's not personal, Logan," he said. "I'm not asking you to come for my sake. We're ready for the next stage. I don't want to just send you workers - we need to send people who are going to make their home up here. So we need to meet and figure out who would be good. Mutant homesteaders, you said. That's what we need to talk about. It's better if you meet them before they come up here, make sure we're coming up with suitable residents. They'll be the nucleus of the community here."
I told him I'd go with him. "Scott," I added. "I don't know if it still matters to you, but I told you I'd let you know if I had anybody else. Well, I'm letting you know."
"Anyone I know?" he asked, trying not to sound bitter. Failing.
"Nah. Nobody I know either. A bunch of nobodies."
"Why, Logan?"
"I don't know. Something to do in the night."
"I've tried to call you at night."
"I know."
"I'm sorry, Logan. Sorry for what I said about Oliver."
"I know that, too."
"If I could un-say it, I would. If I could turn time back to just before I said it, I'd keep my fucking mouth shut." I didn't say anything. Kept my fucking mouth shut.
We flew back mostly in silence. It was late when we got there and most everyone was asleep. 'Ro was up, though. She asked what had happened on the project since she left and showed me to the room I'd be staying in.
I couldn't go to sleep. Lying there in the dark, thinking of the choices I'd made and where I'd ended up. I was just about ready to give up on sleeping and go for a swim or something when I heard a knock on my door. "You want something to do in the night?" he asked. I did.
It was good, but with a layer of sadness. Still, reminded me of what I was missing with those truckers. They might look a little like him, they might smell a little like him. It wasn't the same, though.
I met with the professor the next morning. Met some of the people they were thinking of sending me. One couple seemed like the best for the start. He's a building contractor and she's a cabinetmaker. They had a nice little business going out of their home in Vermont until the townspeople found out they're mutants. Then there wasn't any home any more. They have a baby daughter, though. I wasn't sure how they'd manage with a baby girl up there, but they didn't seem so worried. We agreed they'd meet me there in a week's time - they'd be driving.
I stayed one more night. This time I went to him. Stayed in his/my room most of the night. We fucked; we held each other. Told stories. "I still love you, Logan," he said. "Do you love me? Do you forgive me?" I told him I wasn't mad any more. Said I didn't know about the love stuff.
Lied to him, though. I knew. Just didn't know what to do about it. When I left, he was still sleeping.
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