Canadian Nights: The Story of the Men That Don't Fit In Chapter 9 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.
Logan and I just looked at each other for a minute, and then he said he had something to do and left quickly. I didn't know whether to continue the meeting or follow him. Mac was looking a little dumbfounded at Logan's rapid exit so I figured I should stay and reassure him a bit. "This is a big help to him," I said, "Really it is. But I think it's a little hard to process all at once like this."
Heather and Mac both said that they understood. "Who were the people who were holding him captive, Scott?" Mac asked.
"He never said?"
"No. And he never said where he'd been held, either. Sometimes I thought he really didn't know and sometimes I thought he was trying to protect me, that it would be too dangerous for me to know. Do you know who they were?"
"No, I don't. Or, at least, I don't think I do. I have some knowledge about the people who originally put the adamantium in him, but I don't think they would have been the same ones. There was a lot of time in between, I think. When was this, Mac? Thirty years ago, did you say?"
"No, more like thirty-five. I probably said I hadn't seen Logan for thirty years. We worked together for five years straight, founded Department H and everything. My father lost that battle - I went into government anti-terrorist work, not sitting behind a desk in the family business. And it's really because of Logan that I got the idea of recruiting mutants and starting Alpha Flight, although none of that happened until years after I lost touch with him." Mac stopped for a minute, apparently lost in his memories. "My time with Logan made a huge impression on me," he said, finally. "Do you know Robert Service at all?"
"No, not really. 'The Cremation of Sam McGee'. 'The Call of the Wild.' Maybe a couple of others."
"Well, he has this one poem that reminds me of Logan: 'The Men That Don't Fit In'. You should read it - I'd bet you'd like it. It starts:
'There's a race of men that don't fit in,
A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.'
So, anyway, I knew he'd move on but I always hoped I'd see him again."
I didn't say anything, wondering if Mac was trying to tell me something, trying to warn me about Logan.
"Do you think he'll see this project through to completion?" he asked. "He's perfect for it."
"I hope so," I said, although I was full of mixed feelings about it. I agreed that Logan was the right person for the job; I hadn't realized just how right until I heard his ideas about developing the center at dinner. And he was still so volatile and unpredictable that I thought it a positive thing for him to have a longer term assignment, something to steady him and give him direction. But I hated the idea of him going back to Saskatchewan, so far away from me. He had just told me he loved me, told me for the first time. Was it just to try to make up for what he'd done? Or even an effect of the drug? Would he regret having said it? I felt like, maybe, if we stayed together, our relationship could develop. Maybe he could get comfortable with the idea of love, of being with somebody. Maybe I could get comfortable with the idea of people knowing about us. If we parted again, all of that would be so much harder. Plus, I didn't like the prospect of doing without sex. Again.
We chatted a little longer, but never really started the meeting. Mac suggested we just pick up in the morning with discussion of plans for the center. He said that Jean-Paul had researched the legal implications of different ways to purchase the land and was prepared to make a presentation on that. And that we needed to talk about how managing this as a joint project would work. We agreed to begin those discussions over breakfast.
I went up to our room and found Logan in the shower, scrubbing furiously all over his body. "Can you come in here, Scott?" he asked. "I don't think I'm reaching all of my back."
I took off my clothes quickly and got in with him, soaping and rubbing his back. "This is nice," I told him, kissing the back of his neck, "but it really couldn't still be on your skin. At least I don't think so."
"I just want to be sure."
"I think what we have to worry about more is if it's still in your system, still potentially reacting with the adamantium." I turned off the water and got towels for both of us, handed him one. I picked up my glasses from the counter where I'd left them, put them on and opened my eyes again.
He was looking at me in alarm. "I don't think you should be here with me."
"I don't want to leave you," I said, walking back into the bedroom. "How are you feeling now? Do you think it's affecting you?"
"I don't think so. I'm feeling good. Feeling horny," he added, with a smile.
"I'd really like to suck your dick," I told him. "Can I do that?"
"Best offer I've had all day."
We went over to the bed and he sat down. I knelt in front of him. I panicked a little just before I started, worrying that he would taste like almonds, but he didn't. He tasted like Logan. And it had been so long since I'd had his cock in my mouth, my hands on his thighs. He stroked my hair, told me he loved how I did him, told me that nobody did it like me. I was so hard from the feel of him in my mouth and wanted to stroke myself, get some release. But I kept my hands on him, made myself wait, knowing I wanted his hand on me when I came. And I went slow, making the anticipation into delicious torture. For him, too. Kept him on the edge as long as he could take it and then he asked me - didn't tell me - to bring him off. "Please, Scott," he said, and I squeezed him with my throat, gave him what he needed.
We got into the bed together. "Are you still okay?" I asked. "Not feeling angry or anything?"
"No, not at all," he told me, looking at me with desire. And love, too? Maybe. "What do you want?" he asked.
"Do me with your hands, Logan. Rub my cock against yours." He did and it felt great. Stroked and rubbed us together and then just me by myself, one hand on my dick, one on my ass with a finger deep inside. Talking to me in my ear the whole time. And when he told me to come, I did.
"Did you ever do that with Mac?" I asked him afterwards.
He laughed. "No, of course not." And then looked at me. "Really? You think he was my lover?"
"It had crossed my mind."
"Well, I guess I can't know for sure. I have just flashes of memory of him, but I don't think so. I think I'd remember if it had been like that."
"You didn't remember me, and I like to think I'm pretty memorable." He smiled at that. "It just seemed like he might have been your type back then."
"What's my type?"
"He said he did anything you told him to." He smiled again. "You have had other men, haven't you, Logan?"
"Yeah. Even some I remember. More women, I think, but there were men. But not like you. Nobody I got this close to, men or women."
"So, I guess you're bisexual."
"Nah. Don't give me those labels, Scott. None of that shit means anything to me. It's like saying what team you're on or something. I'm not a joiner. I don't need that to know what I want."
"What do you want?"
"I want you," he said, looking right at me. "But more, too. Something to do, something I'm good at, something that matters. This project has been good for me. I want to stick with it."
"Well, I think it's me or the project but not both, Logan," I said, a little sadly. "The project's in Saskatchewan - excuse me, in fucking Saskatchewan. And I, unfortunately, will be in non-fucking Westchester while you're there."
"Couldn't you come out there with me? Be the on-site X-men rep?"
I shook my head. "We'll probably bring 'Ro home and send you someone else, but not me. I'm needed back home."
"Well, maybe I can visit sometimes, report on progress, fuck you a few times, then go back. And in between times there's email. And phone sex."
"That's not the same. Better than nothing, but not real. I like real."
"Me, too. Turn over, Scott."
He fell asleep right afterwards. It was still early and I wasn't the least bit tired. So I got dressed and went downstairs, figuring I'd see who was around. Jean-Paul was in the living room and I hung out with him, chatting, comparing notes on recent missions, trading gossip about people we'd worked with.
"So, how long have you and Logan been together?" he asked after a while.
I thought about it for a minute. "I don't know when to count from," I answered him, finally.
He laughed at that. "Isn't that always the way with gay couples?" And then, after a pause, "Oh - am I assuming too much? Maybe you don't call yourself gay? I know you were with Jean a long time."
"Well, for a long time I think I was trying to convince myself I'm not gay. But, yes, that's how I see myself now. I think. It's still a little hard to talk about."
"I know the feeling, copain. I did more hinting than talking for a long time. And it wasn't really easy when I did come out to Alpha Flight. Got some pretty negative reactions. But they got used to it, eventually. Heather and Mac were great. I think they just made it clear by example that they were not going to let it be an issue."
"Good for them."
"How has it been with the X-Men?" he asked. "Has your team reacted well to you coming out?"
I didn't quite know what to say. "Well, actually, I think most of them don't know. I don't even know who does know. I didn't really come out to anybody but Jean." He was looking at me with surprise. "I guess that seems strange since Logan and I have been pretty open about our relationship here, but it's different when I'm home. I don't know if it would affect how the team views me. I need them to take orders, often all of our lives depend on it. And it's not just the team, you know. I teach high school classes. I need to set an example for the kids I teach."
"So, what kind of example are you setting by lying to them?" he asked.
"I'm not lying to them, Jean-Paul. I'm just keeping private things private. It's not appropriate to talk about my sex life with my students."
"They knew about Jean, didn't they?" I nodded. "So, why is it talking about your social life if you're straight - or pretending to be - but suddenly it's talking about your sex life if you're gay? This isn't about your sex life, Scott. I don't know anything about your sex life." He had a point. "I'd be glad to hear all about it, if you want to share," he added with a flirtatious smile, "but coming out isn't about talking about your sex life. It's about being honest, about saying who you really are. And all this about setting an example - if I had known in high school that one of my teachers was gay, maybe it wouldn't have taken me another ten years after I graduated to come out. Why are the straight kids the only ones who need examples, who need role models?"
I didn't really have an answer to that. I didn't have a chance to try to answer anyway. Logan walked in at that point, scowling at us both.
"I should have known I'd find you two together," he said in a low growl. Then looking right at me, "Sneaking off on me as soon as my back is turned? What? I'm not enough for you?" He approached me, claws extended, face contorted with rage.
I tried not to shake. Spoke to him calmly and clearly although my heart was pounding. "Logan, get a grip. That's not what you really think. You know Jean-Paul and I were just talking. It's the drug, Logan. The almond stuff. It's messing with your mind. See me - see me through the tunnel. Don't hurt me, Logan. You can stop - I know you can. The man who wouldn't let the transmitter control him, who wouldn't let Magneto lock him up in the Statue, can fight this. See me, Logan."
He did. It took a minute, him just standing there like he was frozen, but then the claws retracted and the rage left his face. I stood up and put my arms around him, told him the worst was over. I apologized to Jean-Paul and took Logan back to our room, thinking there would be more to discuss at breakfast than just the next steps in the project.
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