AUTHOR: SisterWine
RATING: NC-17 (STRONG SEX, HEAVY VIOLENCE, BAD LANGUAGE).
PAIRING: LOGAN/REMY  SLASH
SUMMARY: Louisiana, late 1920s. Remy finds out that there is more to Logan than meets the eye. A full view of what happened between the realities of "Only In My Dreams" and "I Need You Near Me".
WARNING: SLIGHT RAPE AND ABUSE.
DISCLAIMER: THE X-MEN DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THEY ARE THE PROPERTY OF MARVEL COMICS AND 20th CENTURY FOX. THE ONLY CHARACTERS THAT ARE MINE, ARE THE TOWN'S PEOPLE IN THE STORY. NO MONEY EXCHANGED, JUST FOR FUN.
 

The car came to a stop in front of the house, and Logan opened his door. He stepped out and shut it before paying the driver and walking to the other side to help Remy out.

He opened the door and looked down to see Remy sitting calmly in his seat and staring forward. Logan helped Remy out of the taxi, slowly, and shut the door. They walked carefully up the steps and nearly embraced in a full hug as Remy leaned on to the older man a little more. Logan steadied Remy as his arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer.

"W-wait, cher. I can'- hur's." Remy stopped on the second to the top step, and winced in pain. His right arm was being held around Logan's broad shoulders, while his left was seemingly holding his ribs together. They stood there for more than a minute, until Remy could move, and then continued.

Logan unlocked and opened the front door and helped Remy into the house, sitting him down on the stairs, before he turned back to shut and lock the door. "Let's get you cleaned up. With all that hospital junk on ya, I can still smell the both of them. Yer covered in 'em." He stood in front of Remy, who was staring down at the floor. Putting one arm under the thin legs, and his other around his back, he gently picked Remy up and headed up the stairs to the bathroom.

Remy whimpered and laid his head on Logan's right shoulder. Every bounce sent a surge of pain
through his chest, and he fought back the tears as he was carried up to the bathroom. He closed his
eyes and kissed Logan's neck. "Merci, Logan."

"For what, kid?" Logan turned the corner and placed Remy on the edge of the bathtub.

"F'r taking care o' me." He whispered as Logan started to run the bathwater and undress him.

Logan scoffed. "After this, yer goin to bed, and stayin there until you can move without me helpin ya. And believe me, we're gonna talk about this. I told ya before I wasn't going to put up with this, anymore." Wrapping an arm around Remy, he lifted him up and removed the rest of his clothing before helping him into the tub.

Remy hissed at the hot water. He managed to sit down without too much pressure or pain from his chest. He let Logan wash him and then dry him before he was clothed and carried to bed. Remy was even dressed in boxers and an undershirt. The covers were pulled up over him, up to his chest, as
Logan propped him up against the headboard with both of their pillows.

Logan sat down on the bed beside Remy and looked calmly at him. "Talk. What happened? And don't even think about lyin to me." Logan's temper was casually rising, but he managed to keep it under control.

There was a silence between them. "Wen' t' tell Michel I quit. He say, he don' wan' t' let Remy go. He 'ssault Remy an' kick him. Don' remember much af'er dat. I wake up in de hospital. Dey take Remy's clothes, an' hol' him down. Dey talk t' me an' den call y'. Clean 'im up but, dey hur' im." Logan's silence was making Remy uneasy; he continued. "Dis is my problem, cher. Remy needs t' han'le it."

Sighing, Logan brushed a stray hair out of Remy's face and then took one of his hands in his own. "No, this aint just your problem. Seein you, like this, makes it my problem too. And I intend to finish this,
with Michel. You're gonna stay here, while I deal with him, hear me?"

"Oui, cher, but Remy can take care o' dis." Remy's eyes glowed faintly.

"I said, No!" Logan's voice was sharp and piercing. He stood up and glared down at Remy. "The discussion is closed. You need some rest." He sat down again, and kissed Remy's forehead. When he spoke again, his voice was calm and collected. "Look, Rem, how long has he done this to you?"

"Four years." Remy looked down at his hands that were fidgeting with the sheet, in his lap.

"He's been beatin you for four years?"

"Oui. An' Jaques."

"How does Jaques play into this?" Logan lift Remy's chin up with the side of his index finger.

"Dey brudders, cher. Michel, he fine Remy when he a chile. Remy live wit' him til Remy get de house. Logan, don'--. Let Remy go wit' you, please? Remy know his tricks. Help y', non?" Remy leaned forward and groaned as his hands roamed over Logan's chest before playing with the shirt buttons.

Logan captured Remy's wrists and stopped him. "When you feel better. Right now, you need to rest. I'll uh, I'll bring you somethin to eat and drink in a while." He watched Remy nod and then helped the younger man to lie down. They kissed, briefly, before Logan pulled away and left the room.

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

A week later, Logan made sure Remy was sleeping, soundly, and decided to find Michel for himself. Following the unmistakable scent into town, Logan observed the several well-dressed business men
who were standing guard on the huge front porch of the Victorian house. He had been standing in the shadows of a tall maple tree, and watched the two men talk to each other. His dark clothing hid him
well, in the moonlight. Any normal person wouldn't have been able to hear the conversation, but Logan wasn't normal.

The two were talking about a tastey young tramp, who they had "partied" with in the backseat of a car. And how the boy had "wanted it", as they claimed. Logan listened in to most of their braggings before getting upset and moving in to take them out. Piling the broken and bloody bodies off to the side of the house, under some low cut hedges, Logan eased himself through the front door. He sniffed, and grinned at the long hallway.

A single, tall and well-armed guard stood in front of the door. Logan sized him up and decided that a
few inches of height didn't matter. The guard would hit the floor sooner or later. After a brief struggle, Logan managed the upper hand and held the guard by the throat. Breaking the guard's neck in half, he kicked the door open to find Michel sitting at his desk, reading the paper and sipping brandy. He growled and released his claws, stepping into the semi-lit room. The room reeked of sex and drugs and liquor.

Michel looked calmly up at the man in the doorway. "Ah, Logan, is it not? How de petit, monsieur? Shame t' hear dat Remy feel..... how you say, under de weather?" Quirking a smile at Logan's angered growl, he put his paper and glass down before standing up. Brushing off his gray slacks and white shirt, he licked his lips. He walked around to the front of the desk and leaned against it.

Logan sniffed about the room and stepped closer to Michel, his claws itching for more blood. "Stay away from him. He told you he quit. I'm here to enforce it." His low growl breathed through his clenched teeth.

Soft laughter rose from Michel. He leaned there, with his arms folded in front of him, and his left hand tapping at his smooth lips. "D' y' t'ink de boy really wan' t' quit, cher? Non, I don' t'ink so. He like it too much. I fine de boy when he was 12. I give him good home, an' food, he repay me wit' himself. D' y' t'ink Remy stay wit' jus' one, Logan? Non. He say, he love y', only t' get y' t' fuck him. De boy love no'ting but sex, mon ami. He keep y' warm, an' tell y' an'ting y' wan' t' hear, long as he get de dick." Michel paused for a moment. "He taste tres magnifique, eh, cher? An' his hair is s' beautiful. His lips, mmm, dey like velvet, no? De boy has 'charm' power, m'sieur. He use it all de time." Michel pushed himself off the desk and came closer to Logan, casually. "Mebbe, he use it on y', oui?"

Logan didn't answer him. He didn't say anything. Moving away from Michel, who was teasing him with soft carresses, he left the room. Growling, he sauntered out of the house and stopped on the front
porch for a moment. Logan resheathed his claws and stared up at the bright round moon above him. He was thirsty and wanted to think over what Michel had said.

He'd spent the better part of the night in a dark, sleazy pub. He sipped his beer and thought hard about what Michel said. When he was finished with the beer, he ordered a double dry martini and an ashtray. Michel's words seemed to seep into his head as he thought about how he had met the boy in Paris. He was clearing. Logan kicked himself for being so damned gullable, but at the same time, there was a percentage of doubt that bounced around in the confusion.

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

Remy had gotten up and out of bed, sometime during the night. He took his time as he took one step at
a time, to the first floor. Gripping the bannister for dear life, and taking painstakingly slow steps down the stairs, Remy looked about the empty and nearly dark house as he called for Logan.

The clock by the front door struck 2 AM, making Remy jump as he stood on the bottom step. His eyes glowed red as he took the final step down. He raised a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright chandelier in the dining room, as he turned the corner. His stomach growled and he started to shiver from his bare feet on the cold tile. Remy hadn't bothered to put on anything else over his boxers and t-shirt.

Slowly making his way to the adjoining kitchen, he stopped as his heard the front door open and close. "Logan?"

Footsteps on the stairs, stopping. He called again.

"L-Logan?"

The footsteps came back down the stairs and turned the corner to stand in the dining room. "What the hell are you doin outta bed? Didn't I tell you to stay in bed and rest? Get upstairs!" Logan looked at the startled boy and pointed to the wall that hid the stairs.

"But, 'm hungry....? Y' weren' here so I t'ought I take a walk, eh?" Remy put a hand to his stomach as it growled again.

Logan grabbed Remy's left arm and started to pull him towards the entranceway. He stopped when Remy yelped in pain at the rough touch. He let go and growled. "Get upstairs. I'll bring ya somethin to eat. Now git, 'fore I carry ya." Logan brushed past him and went into the kitchen. He hadn't waited to see Remy's expression, or hear his answer.

Walking around the corner, Remy sat down on the third stair and waited. His hands were clasped together in his lap. He listened to Logan slam around the kitchen. Finally, he pulled himself up and
started back down the stairs. He was about to turn the corner when he came face to face with Logan. "You ok, cher?"

"Thought I told you to get back in bed, Cajun?" Logan set the plate of food down on the step. Grabbing hold of Remy's right arm, he pushed Remy back up the stairs.

"Oui, cher, but.... somet'ing is botherin you, no??" Remy struggled to get out of Logan's hurtful grasp.

"Yea, Cajun, somethin is botherin me." Logan looked at Remy for a long minute. Inhaling his scent, he answered. "Been too long since I fucked ya. C'mere!"

"Wha--?" Remy's speech was cut off by Logan laying him down, against the jabbing stairs. Logan's mouth was assaulting his neck as it kissed and nipped at the tender skin. "Logan? Unh, Logan, please stop, mon cher! Logan! Y' hurtin m', cher." Remy cried and grabbed for something- anything. Logan didn't hear him. His boxers were being pushed down, and a hard and wet length started pushing itself into his tight opening. He cried out in pain, but the assualt wouldn't cease. Remy could feel Logan start
to release, and pushed away, again. "Logan, arret, mon cher!" Finally, his hand closed around the fork. He charged it. Stabbing Logan in the right shoulder with it, he pushed again and felt a hot wet spurt against his opening as Logan was forced out. He sent Logan flying back into the bannister of the stairs and across the way to the livingroom wall, as it exploded. Remy gasped for air and pulled his boxers back into place.

Logan sat there, against the wall, stunned. Releasing his claws, defensively, he growled and stared back at the shocked Remy. "Damn, kid. Didn't know ya liked to play rough." Logan stood up and stepped toward Remy. He was still aroused and wanted more.

Pushing himself back against the wall, Remy grabbed the knife that had been under a scoop of peas,
and charged it. "Cher, don' make me do dis. Don' und'stan mon amour." He tried to get up and run for the top of the stairs, but the sharp pain in his ribs had other ideas. He cringed and huddled against the wall.

Logan was silent as he came closer. Stopping at the broken bannister, he surveyed it. "Went to see your hustler. He told me about a certain charm power, you have. I thought, hmm, has the kid been usin it on me?" Logan reached forward and grabbed Remy's neck in one hand, and picked him up. He held Remy against the wall and growled. "Once again, ya aint talking to me, kid. Is that what you've been doin? Huh?"

Remy gasped and whimpered. The movement hurt, and tears started to fall. Remy had nearly forgotten about the still charged knife in his hand. "N-n-non cher, I didn'-..." Remy groaned as he was lifted up, off of the step and pushed even harder against the wall.

Logan grabbed Remy's right wrist and squeezed. "Yer lyin to me, boy. How many times do I have ta tell you, don't lie to me" He growled and had started slamming Remy's back into the wall, not caring about the screams of pain, or the kid's ribs.

Remy wriggled his wrist free and brought the knife up, between them, to Logan's chest. Driving it in between Logan's third and forth rib, he let go and pushed Logan away from him. He watched as Logan was forced back, again.

As the knife exploded, Logan had landed against the bookshelf and groaned as a few books from the
high shelves fell on him. He shook his head and stood up. Logan glared at Remy, but didn't move or say anything. He watched as Remy held his chest in his left hand and inched his way up the stairs.

"Remy no lie, cher. Didn'- uh- didn' use his charm, wit' you, here. Sil vous plait, cher. No more? Logan, Remy love you." Remy winced as Logan came to stand within inches of him.

"Wrong answer, kiddo!" He grabbed Remy's arm again and pulled the boy close to him. "You like bein a whore so much, fine. Here's the perfect opportunity to be treated like one. My personal slut, Remy. I don't care about yer damned ribs, or the pain. I don't have to care about a slut. Just as long as I get that pretty ass, right?" He reached around Remy, grabbed a firm cheek and squeezed.

Remy was being pulled up the stairs. He could feel Logan's growing hostility. "Don' y' believe Remy loves you, cher?"

"Hm. Nope." Logan didn't look at him. He set his sights on the bedroom, at the top of the stairs, and dragged Remy to it. He'd ignored the cries of pain and pleadings to stop. His mind was focused on getting the kid into bed, yet there was something that told him not to.

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

Logan was merciless in bed. He lie on his back and held the kid atop him, by the hips. He watched as Remy moved, up and down, slowly over his erection. The tears fell onto his chest as Remy whimpered and cried in pain. Thinking to himself about how gorgeous the kid looked, even in so much pain and naked. Sitting forward, over Logan, with his hands braced on Logan's shoulders. God, how beautiful.
He growled and forced Remy to move faster.

Remy panted and gasped as Logan's steel hand grabbed at his manhood and started pulling him. He wanted to please Logan, and tried to move in to kiss him, but a hand held him back. His eyes closed,
and he was being moved faster. He cried out as seering hot liquid shot up into him. The hand had abandoned his length to hold Remy's hips down onto the pulsing erection until it was over.

When it was over, Remy was allowed to lean to the left, and slide off of Logan. His hand cupped his own manhood as he looked at Logan, who didn't bother acknowledging him. "Better, monsieur? Remy make it better?"

"Get out. I don't sleep with sluts." Logan growled and clasped his hands behind his head.

Remy lay there. It hurt to pant, and it hurt to move. He stared at Logan in shock. "But, mon amour, please, I-..." Remy reached out to touch Logan's chest, and Logan grabbed him.

"I said, get out. I only sleep with people I trust and love. Now, get out, or do I have ta throw you out?" Logan's eyes were closed and he growled and pushed Remy away from him.

Bowing his head and whimpering, Remy silently slid off of the bed and left the room. He was still hard, and hadn't been allowed his own orgasm. Worse than that, he wasn't loved in return. Picking a bedroom down the hall from his own. He shut the door, and lay on his back, atop the bare mattress. Wrapping a gentle hand around his manhood, he spread his legs and bent them so that his feet were flat against the mattress. Stroking himself, gently, he closed his eyes and imagined his hand was Logan's. He pulled a
bit harder and gasped as his hips jerked up and he came in warm streams that striped his thin stomach. He panted and opened his eyes. He was alone in the dark room. He sighed and stretched out flat.

His dreams were haunting. Scattered pictures of Michel forcing into him, on the floor of his office. Violent images. Punches and screams as he was violated, repeatedly. Then it was over with. He lay on his side and Michel was kicking him and cursing at him. Another dream was of Logan being so gentle with him. Making love to him, so softly and slowly. Kisses and giggles and warm touches. New sensations is what drew him to Logan. Logan could be firm and wild, yet he was more gentle and loving than anyone else Remy had ever been with- save his deceased wife. He loved Logan. The older man didn't believe him, but he loved him anyway. Now, all he had to do, was prove it.
 

To Be Continued..........