AUTHOR: SisterWine sisterwine75@hotmail.com
RATING: NC-17
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".
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.
Logan stood at the end of the bed, watching the sleeping boy. He stood
in the guest room that Monique had made up for Remy. His eyes moved over
Remy's peaceful face, and he recalled the actions the boy had displayed
just a few short hours prior. Logan had been in near shock as he had waited
in the car, with the motor running, and watched as Remy pressed both of
his hands to the closed front door of the house, and charged it. The kid
had been in such deep concentration to charge the entire house, and postpone
it's destruction, and Logan had never seen the kid so determined. His brow
furrowed in thought. What did Michel have on this kid to make Remy hate
him so much? When they drove away,
he had been watching Remy at every chance he had. Taking in how the
kid just sat there, quietly, and stared out the window. The only time he
saw the kid move, was when the sudden explosion behind
them finally errupted. Even then, the kid barely flinched. A mile back,
the house was engulfed in flames and smoke. Had the kid cared at all? Was
he watching it through the side mirror?
The boy shifted in his sleep. He lay on his right side, an arm curled under the fluffy pillow, while the other lay draped over the thick blanket that had been folded over above his slim waist. His hair lay in a loose puddle on the pillow, behind him. Remy was naked, and clean. He had wanted to take a bath when they had gotten home. No other movement, but up the stairs and into the bathroom. He hadn't acknowledged Logan at all. Perhaps he figured Logan was disgusted by him, again. Perhaps that was why the kid finished his bath and dried himself, before sulking his way to the bedroom, down the hall from his own. He sighed, softly.
Logan moved around to the other side of the bed, and eased himself up
to lay behind Remy. Sliding himself under the covers, he kept his eyes
on Remy. The boy didn't move as he traced his fingers
lightly down the limp arm, over the recent bruises he had given him.
His hand trailed back up, and
lightly ran the fingertips over the pale cheek. Logan inhaled. Feeling
the boy's skin again, he was hot, near sweating. Gently lifting the covers
back so that the kid could cool off, Logan propped himself up
on his right hand, and let the other glide over Remy's exposed left
leg. Moving his hand down, his fingers ran over the soft mounds of Remy's
tight bottom. Tracing the tender crack, he pulled away and brought the
hand to his mouth to suck on his own middle finger. Replacing it at the
crack, he lightly spread the skin and brushed his finger against the tight
opening.
Remy gasped, slightly, but remained asleep.
Logan nudged the finger into the tightness. Again, he watched Remy's reaction. Stillness, and breathing. He twitched a smile and pushed the finger in more. Hearing Remy moan, his eyes traveled down to Remy's growing erection. The boy's breath was near ragged as he started a slow, sensual rhythm with the finger.
The thin leg twitched, and moved, as Remy bent it and then rolled onto his back. His eyes remained closed, but he had been aware someone was with him. His hips spasmed back onto the finger, and he moaned again.
"That feel good?" Logan asked in a whisper.
"Mm-hmm." Remy breathed and nodded.
"Good. Tell me your dream, Remy. What's this finger doin to ya?" Keeping his voice as a whisper, Logan held the rhythm as he pushed deeper into the warmth.
Remy moaned again, and parted his lips to sigh. "Tres bien, cher. Dat feels s' good." His voice was slightly hoarse, and he moved his right hand to slowly stroke his own length.
"Tell me. What's it doin to you?" Logan watched Remy's hand stroke himself, and smiled. The boy was being pleasured, while sleeping. He could feel his own length start to rise in his pants.
Remy moaned and shifted, again. "Mon cher, he make love t' me. He kiss me, an' tell me eve't'ing all right. Mm. He c'me soon, oui. Anhh." Remy tensed and pulled himself a bit harder.
"What else, Rem? What does he want you to do?"
He bit his bottom lip and answered. "He wan' me t' c'me f'r him. He say I c'me nice f'r him. An' dat, Remy a good boy. Mmm." He paused and gasped again. "I wan' t' c'me. But, he strange now. Mean." Remy kept his eyes closed and whimpered, softly. He pushed himself back onto the finger that had become slightly faster, and more forceful. "He hit Remy so har', s'metime." Remy gasped and continued to pull himself in time with Logan's movements.
Logan thought for a minute. "Do you love him?"
Remy smiled at the question. "Oui. Oh, mais oui. Wan' t' be wit' him, always." He panted as his hand jerked firmly on the throbbing erection.
Knowing the young man was near orgasm, Logan tensed and asked him, "Does he love you?"
Stopping and whimpering, Remy's smile faded and his brow furrowed into shame. "Non." Taking a ragged breath, he wiped at his tears with his free hand. "Remy jus' a stupid whore. Try t' please him. B-b-but, he tell Remy de same t'ing. Unh, mmm....." Remy gasped as Logan pushed his finger in deeper while keeping the slow rhythm.
"You like the way he feels in ya?"
"Oui. Remy wan' t' be wit' him, f'r always. Mm. He feel s' good, inside Remy."
"Yea? He's a good fuck?"
"Mm, oui, cher. Remy d' an't'ing f'r him. Need him in me." Remy smiled again, and resumed stroking himself in slow, easy strokes.
"You wish this finger was a dick, comin inside ya?"
Remy's heartbeat sped up, and he began to pull himself with more force. "Mmm. Oui but..... non. Have t' be good f'r him. Mm. He- he like Remy t' b' good f'r him. Ah." Remy gasped, again. A firm tug on his manhood and raising his hips up, off the bed, told the other man he was almost ready to release.
Logan watched as Remy calmed down, and rest his hips back onto the bed, stopping his own ministrations. "I bet yer really needin a fuck, aren't ya? Maybe just a quick one? Hm?"
"Oui. B-b-but, he home soon. Need t' b' good, non? Mmm. Ahh..... He try." Remy tried to ease Logan's probing finger out of him, but sighed in frustration at the hand that had blanketed his own on his length, while pushing the digit further into him.
Logan smiled and began stroking the boy's erection. "I bet he won't mind if you come for me. Will he? You said he likes it when you come for him, huh? You wanna be a good whore for just him?"
Remy panted and gasped as the hand and finger moved in rhythm with each
other. "Non. Please,
stop..... Please? Wan' t' b' good f'r mon amour. Don'-- ah.....ahh....
mmm. Please, m'sieur, stop?? Only he say Remy come, oui?" Remy grabbed
at the hand and tried his best to push it away, but with no luck. Whimpering,
and sobbing, Remy gave up and let the rhythms continue.
"What's his name, this guy who don't love ya, but also won't let anyone else have this gorgeous body?" Logan smirked and moved a bit faster. The kid was so very close, and he could tell, Remy was holding back. Or, trying to.
"Mmm- L-L-Logan. Je t'aime, mon cher. Je t'aime, Logan." Remy panted.
"And, you only want to come for him?"
"Oui. Only Logan. Remy be an't'ing Logan wan'." Remy sighed. "Even if dat mean he jus' a whore, t' Logan."
"Wasn't there someone else?"
"Oui. Dere was. Sh' dead, now...... Annhh!" The young body spasmed and then settled.
"Mm. I bet he likes ta lick it off ya. Since yer just a whore, I don't
think he'd mind me tastin ya, right? Make sure yer good and ready for him
to fuck ya, huh?" Logan removed the finger and used that hand
to move Remy's left hand to his zipper and help him lower it. "Shhh.
He won't have to know. I'll just get ya ready for him, huh?"
Remy started pulling away from him. "Non, non, non, non, non, non, please?" He pleaded and sobbed. "Remy wan' t' be good. Logan say, he only sleep wit' people he trus' an' love. Wan' him t' love Remy, cher. Let Remy be, non?" Crying out as he spasmed and lifted his hips, he came onto his firm stomach and chest.
"Just a whore, kid? That's all? A whore?" Logan stared down at the boy, as he had opened his eyes and took in the scene. He watched as Remy rolled back onto his right side, and curled into a ball, sobbing.
"Oui, cher. Remy jus' a whore. Please, y' let him sleep, now?"
***************************
Remy hurried through the dark streets and alleyways. He looked up, through the raindrops, and found his target. The sleeping bundle in his arms shivered and twitched.
The tall, steepled building came into full view, as Remy ran through puddles and across empty streets. The huge stone walls and steps seemed to stand out from the other buildings on the block. Saint Maragarite was enormous, and clean, despite the rain.
He ran up the fifteen steps and clutched the baby as he pounded on the large door with his free hand. Pounding a few times every few seconds, he listened closely, and looked around for spying eyes in the shadows. An older Priest, who had been up late, had opened the door and gave Remy a glance. Remy's eyes darted around him again, and he quickly slid into the huge cathedral.
"Merci, Father. Desole de hour is late, but I need yo' help." His voice was frantic, yet soft enough as to not wake the bundled child.
The priest looked at Remy's bundled arms, and ushered him more inside. They sat down in the last pew on the left, and talked quietly. "What is the trouble, my son?"
Remy hushed a sob in his already panting throat. "Sil vouz plait, Father, I come see y' f'r de chile's life. M' wife, she die while ago, an' I can' take care of de boy. He all Remy has, but if he stay wit' me, somet'in happen t' him, non? Y' give him good home? His name is Malicoire LeBeau." Remy looked from the concerned priest to the stirring boy in his arms. He was shaking, and tears streamed down his face. "Desole, Mali. Yo' pere love y', chile. Fo'give Remy." Handing the baby to the priest, he quietly slipped from the church as the priest gazed down at the baby.
Running all the way home, and bursting through the door, soaking wet,
Remy panted and noticed the three figures lounging in his livingroom. He
straightened from his hunched over position and quieted
his breaths. The small reading lamps to either side of the plush sofa
illuminated the room in a nearly
too dim light.
Michel was seated in the middle of the sofa, and the other two figures
had stood up and came to stand
in front of him. "Where's de chile, Remy?" The man sat, reading a book
he had gotten from Remy's collection. He hadn't bothered looking up from
the pages he was aimlessly glancing at.
"Safe from you." Remy eyed the two well-dressed, and no doubt, heavily armed guards that took their positions on either side of him.
The older man sighed, and motioned for the guard to the left of Remy
to smack him. He watched as the guard nodded and backhanded Remy, sending
him sprawling into the arms of the guard on the other
side of him. "Don' y' know, boy, no one is safe from me. But, dat's
alright. Y' gonn' be a good boy an' warm my bed, when y' no' workin." Michel
closed the book and tossed it onto the cushion beside him. Standing up,
he nodded again to his guards to hold Remy as he balled a fist as connected
it with the
soft planes of Remy's stomach.
Coughing and choking for air, Remy remained silent and unbroken by the
birage of punches and verbal abuse. He had been punched at least a dozen
or so times, and smacked at least twice. Words were spat
at him, yet he didn't move or whimper. The two behemouths of guards
who were holding him, scoffed at him and pushed him into Michel's rough
embraces.
Michel stopped. Cupping the boy's chin, and wiping his thumb across the trickle of blood on the smooth lip, he told his guards to do with the boy what they pleased, but not to be too rough. The older man bent down to run his tongue over Remy's trembling lips before going back to sit on the sofa, and watch the show.
When the two were finished, they stood up and fixed their suits, each kicking at the nearly unconscious boy who had curled himself into a ball on the floor. They had discarded his wet clothes, and covered him in bruises and semen, and blood.
Finally, Michel spoke to him. "C'mere chile."
Remy trembled, but rolled over to crawl to Michel's feet. He sat there
and stared up, past Michel's
knees, at the man who was sneering down at him. Flinching as Michel
pet his hair and leaned forward to whisper into his ear, he whimpered.
"Desole, Michel. Desole. Please, don' hur' him, n'more.
Michel stood up and looked down on the kneeling boy. "Come, chile. Michel's
gonn' show y' jus' wha'
he mean, when he say no' t' piss him off." His tone was caught between
harshness and near parental.
Not bothering to wait for Remy to climb to his feet, he headed out,
into the entranceway, and up the stairs. Michel stopped at the top of the
stairs, to watch Remy climb the marble steps, and shiver with each footfall
on the cold surface.
Following Michel into his bedroom, the door was shut behind him and soon after, he was treated to multiple rapings and more harsh beatings.
Nearly two long hours later, Michel was dressed and fixing his tie while staring at the spent and curled body of Remy. The boy had passed out shortly before Michel stopped. "Don' cross me again, chile. Dis was a wa'ning."
************************
The next morning, Logan sat at the far end of the huge oak dining table, reading the morning paper. He looked up as Remy had turned the corner and walked, with his head bowed, to the kitchen.
Remy was dressed in the clothes Logan had picked out for him, and set
on the end of the bed. As he came to the kitchen door, he paused and stared
at the door. Opening his mouth to say something, he promptly closed it
and then pushed himself through the door. Rummaging around in the cupboards
for something to eat, he came across a container of Ritz Crackers®
and helped himself to a handful.
Quickly eating three, he made his way back to the dining room.
Logan had gone back to reading his paper, but stopped as Remy quietly
sat down at the other end. He watched as Remy ate the crackers, in silence,
and stared at the table in front of him. "There's an article in here about
the 'de Corte' mystery. Says they're gonna start talkin to people." Logan
skimmed the article and then looked up to where Remy had froze in his actions.
He cleared his throat in order to
make Remy snap out of his dazed state.
Remy continued eating in silence. When he had finished, he stood up
and slid his chair back. He walked around behind it, and pushed it in.
He kept his eyes on the floor as he made his way back to the
entrance way.
"Hey!" Logan called.
Remy stopped, but didn't turn around.
"What's with the silent treatment?" Logan tossed the paper onto the table and stood up.
Remy shrugged.
"Answer me!" Logan was near furious.
Remy jumped as Logan came to stand in front of him, demanding attention. He remained silent at the continued disapproving barks. Finally, he was held by the arm and backhanded. Remy sighed and said in a calm tone, under his breath, "Jus' a whore, cher."
"That aint what's eatin ya, and we both know it." Backhanding Remy again, he said more firmly. "Answer me!"
"D' y' love me, Logan?" Remy cringed and flinched away from Logan, ready for another hit.
Logan's eyes narrowed. "You tell me. You're the empath."
Remy lowered his gaze, again. "It don' always work like dat, cher."
A low growl hissed its way between them as Logan tossed Remy into the wall, and then headed back to the table. Logan looked up from the paper, again, to see Remy stand up and start to remove his clothing. "And, what's this for? You thinkin you can change my mind?"
"Non, cher. Jus' t'ink y' migh' wan' y' clothes back, oui?" Remy sighed as he finished unbuttoning his shirt.
Logan raised an eyebrow. "My clothes? Kid, yer brains been fucked outta ya too many times. Those came from your dresser." He scoffed and watched Remy strip completely. Eventhough Remy hadn't been facing him, he knew the young man was picking up on his arousal. He also knew, this was exactly what Remy had wanted to happen. He sniffed. The air was perfumed with Remy's need. He tossed the paper to the floor, beside him and growled for the kid to go to him. The boy merely flinched and stayed still. "I said, come here." He grinned as he was obeyed.
The trembling young man came to stand directly in front of him.
"Sex all you think about? Or are you just that dumb?"
"Remy not dumb, cher. Dat's all he know, an'more." He hesitated as he
said it. Barely having the time to glance up at Logan, he was shoved, gruffly,
back onto the table and squirming under the harsh hands
on him. A firm hand pulled at his tender manhood, while the other came
to grip his throat. He gasped
and tried to catch his breath as the warm mouth was now working on
his erection, and the hand on his throat massaged him, roughly.
Logan sucked and rubbed and growled at Remy. He knew Remy was on the
verge of coming, so he stopped and pulled away from him. He looked up to
see Remy staring at the ceiling, and wincing as he tried to control his
release. Logan smiled and went back to working the boy into a frenzy. Stepping
back, to watch as Remy came, uncontrollably, he scoffed and cleared
his throat.
Remy lay still. He shook and whimpered.
"Clean this mess up, and get dressed." Logan growled before walking out of the room.
*******************
At 10 AM, the doorbell rang. Remy had just come down stairs from getting dressed, again, and answered it. He was shocked to see a single detective standing on the porch.
The man was in his mid thirties, with sandy-brown hair and hazel eyes.
He was about Remy's height, and build. The only differences were of small
and obscure detail. A tan raincoat hung from the man,
and mainly covered his white shirt. His slightly darker tan slacks
were rolled at the bottoms, exposing
his black socks and shiny black shoes. "Mr. LeBeau? I'm Detective Roberts.
I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding a Michael de Corte?"
"Michel." Remy sighed and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
"Right. Anyway, I understand from various people that you and Mister de Corte were more than just casual acquaintances. I'd like to ask you a few questions. We can do it here, or I can take you down town." Roberts' gaze followed Remy over to the porch steps as the boy sat down on the top step. He joined the young man, and retrieved a small pad of paper and a pen from his left coat pocket.
After a long silence, Remy started to shift uncomfortably.
"How long have you known the De Corte family?" The detective asked, eyeing Remy, suspiciously.
"Too long, cher." Remy sighed.
Roberts squinted. He wasn't sure if he'd accept that answer, but he
noted it and continued. "I
understand you are....." He cleared his throat before finishing. "homosexual.
Did you and Mr. De Corte have a torrid love affair, and that prompted you
to perhaps get even?"
Remy turned to glare at Roberts. "It wasn' like dat. Between Remy an' Michel, was jus bus'ness."
"If that were the case, you'd be in prison with a boyfriend. But, since I also understand you are an escort, I bet you'll fit right in." Roberts smirked at his own statement. The smirk was replaced by surprise as Remy smiled back at him.
"Cher, Michel lived in an ol' house, oui? Mebbe de pipes broke, an' de house go poof, non?" Remy stood up and focused on the police car in his driveway.
"Right. Well, if you know of anything, here's my card." The detective
stood up and handed Remy a
small business card with his name and number on it. He told Remy goodbye
before walking down the steps and telling the uniformed officer they could
go to the next person.
Logan stood in the doorway. "Always the charmer, eh, kid?" He scoffed.
Remy jumped and turned around to look at him. He sighed and walked over
to the older man. He was swatted away as he reached out to embrace Logan.
Lowering his gaze, he walked past the man and
back upstairs to the guest room he was using for a bedroom.
*********************
A month passed, and for a month, the police hounded and slandered Remy,
about Michel, and Jaques. And also about the mysterious explosion. He had
even been in jail for a few days due to possible
charges, but were dropped due to lack of evidence. Not once had Logan
come to his rescue. Not once had Logan even bothered to acknowledge him
at all.
A few days into the second month, Remy had slipped into bed with Logan,
and huddled the edge of his usual side of the bed. He knew Logan picked
up on his scent long before he had slipped into the room. He hadn't moved
or made a sound to emphasize on his presence, he was just lonely and felt
he needed
to be near to someone, anyone.
"Nightmares again, kid?" Logan spoke as he rolled over and opened his eyes to stare at Remy's bare back.
"Oui. An' a bit lonely." Remy breathed.
Logan snorted. "You wet the bed, yer scrubbin it."
"Kay." Remy's voice cracked a bit, and he wished Logan would let him touch him. Or at the very least, be closer to him. Letting himself be taken by his dreams, he was still awake enough to be aware of the other man sleeping next to him. After awhile, he had forgotten about Logan, and let himself relax into slumber. He felt his body jerk slightly, and he sat up in a start. Looking over to where Logan was, he found no trace of the man.
Logan stood at the end of the bed, smoking a cigar and watching Remy. He'd been standing there for about five minutes, watching him, as he tossed and turned and whimpered in his sleep.
Remy flushed and his cheeks burned with red. He sighed as Logan's hard
eyes stared at him, burning a hole through him. "Sorry, mon cher. Remy
go sleep downstairs." Hanging his head, he slid out of bed and quietly
exited the room. He made his way, slowly, down the dark stairs, and into
the livingroom.
The only bit of clothing covering his thin body were his light grey
boxers, but he didn't care. Curling up on the sofa, he whimpered and sobbed
himself back to sleep.
A little while later, Logan was looming over him with a thick blanket.
Tucking Remy in, he stood back and watched the boy sleep for awhile. How
soundly he could sleep, even when he was being backed
into an ever shrinking corner. Logan suddenly had a gnawing thirst,
and left the room to find the Vodka.
The boy had started to shake and moan in his sleep. His sobs rose above the ticking of the grandfather clock, in the entranceway. They became so annoyingly loud to Logan, he heard them in every breath he took. Finally, he got up and stumbled from the dining room, back into the livingroom and leaned in to shake Remy. What was meant as a shake, came to be a hard slap to the boy's already bruised right forearm. He was dully surprised that the boy jumped at the touch. Staring down, into Remy's eyes, he snorted and backstepped lazily, and found himself sitting on the floor. Cursing aloud as he spilled some of the contents to the near empty bottle, Logan was amazed to find Remy kneeling beside him with a towel and cleaning up the spill.
"God damn it, boy!"
"Desole, Logan. Remy didn' mean it."
"Bad enough yer cryin, now yer spillin things on the floor."
"Sorry, Logan. Please f'give?" Remy flinched away as Logan swatted him for an unknown reason.
***********************
The next morning, Remy woke to find himself fully under the thick blanket, in the livingroom. He sat up and stretched. Yawning, he called out for Logan. "Logan? Mon cher, y' here?" He jumped when another voice answered him.
"No, m'sieur. He lef' hours ago." The voice was female and familiar.
He sighed and turned to see Monique polishing the wooden bannister in
the entranceway. Sighing again, he picked himself up off the floor and
headed upstairs to his room. He had forgotten about the blanket, and wearing
only his boxers. He had also temporarily blocked out Monique, standing
at the bottom of
the stairs, watching him.
Monique followed Remy upstairs and into his bedroom to get dressed. "I see monsieur been drunk, again. Chile, y' need a good woman t' take care of y'. Why don' y' go out on de town, an' relax, non? Logan say he come back later."
"Non. Monique, how c'n Remy go out like dis, eh? He look horrible."
Remy sat down on the bed and
laid the clean clothes beside him. Covering his face with his hands,
he rested his elbows on his knees
and sighed.
She came over to him and knelt down, in front of him. "Listen chile,
Y' famile, dey all gone, oui. I
know, it hur' t' find a new beau, an' have it turn out tres mal. But,
m'sieur, y' are no' happy an'more. Michel an' Jaques, dey were wort'less.
Logan, well..... he get y' 'way from dem, but cher, he do de same t'ing
as Michel. I bet, y' fine y'self a nice m'd'mselle, an' y' have a nice
time."
Remy shrugged.
"Come chile, we get y' cleaned up, den y' go out on de town. Y' such a han'some boy, Remy. Perhaps, y' fine someone nice t' talk t', no?" She took his hands away from his face and wiped his tears away. Holding onto his hand, she helped him up and walked with him to the bathroom for a hot bath.
She ran the bath water, and got him clean and dressed nicely. She dried his hair and brushed it, as he stood infront of the bathroom mirror.
As Remy walked down the stairs, his mind told him that he had heard a car door slam shut. Turning around, immediately, he ran smack into Monique. "Non, Monique, I can'. Logan, he kill Remy if he leave."
"Sshhhh, sshhhh, chile." Monique soothed. "I'm no' tellin y' t' run away. Jus' step out an' have a time, cher. Y' deserve it. I tell monsieur y' be back soon, oui?"
Remy nodded and turned around to finish heading down the rest of the stairs.
"Bien. Go. I take care o' him, chile."
Remy was shooed out of the front door, and found a taxicab was waiting for him. He climbed into the backseat and told the driver a club, and breathed uneasily as they headed for their destination. His eyes darted from forwards to backwards views to see if Logan had found out he had left the house without permission. Breathing a slight sigh of relief, he hadn't found the drunk older man, anywhere in sight.
*****************************
As he walked into the almost full illegal club and casino, Remy looked around and exhaled in relief that there was no one there to remotely resemble Logan. Not that he didn't want the older man's company, but he found he could relax if he didn't have to keep within eye contact.
He had sat down at the long, and brightly lit, bar and ordered a drink.
He looked around and smiled to himself at how well he had held together,
in public. Downing the first, he ordered another and casually made his
way to the poker tables. He sat down and joined in, winning which hands
he wanted and leaving before he was evicted. Several of the gents had seemed
friendly to him, and he was beginning to feel comfortable in the once familiar
settings. Remy introduced himself, but reminded himself of his
own given short time to spend. After the tenth round of poker, he bid
his tablemates goodbye, and headed for the door.
Remy walked outside and hailed a taxicab. The street was seemingly busy and it was becoming early evening. As he stepped back onto the curb, from the roadway, he had backed up into a pretty young lady who had also been hailing a taxi. "Je suis desole, m'dam'selle. I didn' see y'." Turning quickly, he happened to come face to face with the lovely lady. Her brown eyes and brown hair had caught him by surprise.
Forgetting about the taxis, they had started talking and walking down
the street. He had asked if she
was hungry, and she replied she was.
She introduced herself and told him she was new in town and wasn't sure
what was the best food
places in town. The girl smiled as Remy showed her about and then opened
the door to a fancy cafe.
After an hour of talking, Remy had learned she was slightly younger
than him, about a year. She had
just moved from New Orleans, and was feeling somewhat homesick. Remy
smiled and told her about himself, and being from New Orleans, also. He
had started asking her about home and what had
changed since he had been away. It was slowly making him feel better
that he was able to make someone smile and laugh with him, not at him.
When food was served, they were still deeply invested in conversations and were surprised to see food come and be eaten so quickly. Remy snatched up the bill and excused himself from the table to pay it. He was confused and a bit relieved to find out that the owner refused to accept his money for the meals, but instead told Remy to have a nice night.
As they hailed taxis again, he had invited her to his house the next evening to meet Logan, and have dinner. He was delighted that she had accepted and then hurried into her cab.
Remy caught his own and smiled to himself at the plans, on the way home. His happiness soon changed to fear as the taxi pulled up to the gate. The dining room light was on, and he was almost positive that Logan was sitting at the table, drinking.
He paid the driver, and headed for the gate. He opened the gate and slid through before making his way up the drive. His muscles tensed as he took each step closer to the front door. Remy's eyes went wide and he backstepped as the front door flew open and Logan was standing before him. He was being pulled into the house, by his arms, and thrown into the stairs.
"....And just where the Hell were you?"
Remy took a moment to regain himself before answering. "Was in town, Logan. Met a girl dere. Sh' c'me by t'morrow an' y' meet her, oui? Sh' from N'awlins, aussi. Dat okay, cher? Remy invite de fille t' dinner, cher?" His voice shook as he huddled against the marble steps.
Logan sighed and dropped his anger, momentarily. "Yeah." He had looked away from Remy, and returned the gaze as Remy picked himself up off the stairs and came closer to him.
"Y' sobre, Logan?"
"Yep. Got that way from waitin on you."
Remy sighed, now. He looked to the dining room table, and then back to Logan, in thought. "Y' eat, yet, Logan? I make y' somet'ing, no? Den Remy tell y' all about ma petite amie?" Reaching for Logan's arm, he was amazed to find out that Logan let him touch him.
As Logan ate his meal, he and Remy talked about the girl and how Remy spent the day.
***********************
Remy woke the next morning, and found himself alone, in their bed. Logan wasn't in the mood for sex, but at least he let the kid lay beside him, during the night. It felt so good to be by his side, again. Knowing the older man was there, in the same room, and he had offered to let the kid stay there.
Remy sat up, throwing the covers off his naked body, he made his way to the dresser and pulled out clothes to wear for the day. Hurrying to the bathroom, he started the bathwater, and adjusted the temperature. He took his bath, and then dressed himself in a nice dark gray suit, and then dried and combed his long auburn locks.
His day was spent touching up the house, and thinking of what to cook for his guest. Checking the time every hour or so, Remy scurried about the house and looked out the window for signs of either Logan or the girl. He had hoped Logan remembered they were having a guest, and would be kind enough to either be sobre, or if he was drunk; not come home. Then again, that poised a problem. How was he going to explain that he lived with another, and much older man to someone he had just barely gotten to know? He took a deep sigh and hoped he wouldn't have to explain in such a detailed manner.
A few hours later, it was coming into 6 PM. A car pulled up to the gate,
and Remy ran outside to greet his guest. Hurrying down the steps, and across
the graveled driveway. As he reached the gate, he
smiled at the girl, who was standing there waiting for him. Opening
the huge rought-iron, he welcomed her and led her back to the house.
Remy showed her around, before they settled into the livingroom for coffee. They had already decided to eat, and then make slow conversation as they waited for Logan to come home. Remy did his best to cover his darkened skin, that had slipped out from his clothing. Praying that she didn't notice, he was careful not to make any fast movements.
"Didn' y' say dere was someone else here?" The girl asked, sipping at her coffee.
Blushing a bit, and sighing, he glanced out the lace curtained windows, and then back to her. "Oui, chere. But, Logan is.... well, he a very busy man."
"Oh. He y' pere?"
"Mm, somet'in like dat. He take Remy in an'--" He was silenced as her lips eased themselves against his. Letting a moan escape, Remy felt her hand brush against his shirt buttons. He caught her wrist and held her, gently. "Non, chere, I can'. Sorry."
"Sorry. Guess I jus' been 'lone so long, I f'rget."
"Non, don' be sorry, girl." Smiling at her, and then lowering his gaze to her captured hand. He paused. "Remy lonely, aussi. Been long time since he feel a woman's touch." He looked up just in time to see her lean in for another kiss. He knew he should have stopped it, but he hadn't wanted to.
As the girl became more brave, she slid off the sofa and came to kneel in front of Remy. She stared up at him, and shakily started unbuttoning his pants. Sliding the zipper down, she smiled as he hadn't been wearing any boxers. The girl settled herself in between his legs and started toying with his stiff manhood. Rolling it in her fingers and stroking it's long length. Cautiously, she dipped her head down and licked at the tip.
Remy moaned and leaned back, into the sofa. He had needed someone to touch him, for so long. He had wanted it to be Logan, but since Logan was otherwise occupied with his illegal fix on booze, it seemed that she was doing her best to make up for his loss. Remy was shocked to find out that she knew what she was doing, and he was rather liking being the john than the administrator.
They had eventually given in to lust, and quickly obliged each other in pleasure. Before long, they had fixed their clothings and replaced themselves back onto the sofa. He had hung his head as he felt her shock and horror at the bruises that she had been able to see. But, she only reassured him and kissed his cheeks.
They had started up a conversation and lightly flirted with each other about their previous engagement. Laughing and toying with clothing, they hadn't noticed the front door open and close with a slam. Nor had they noticed the snarling man in the doorway of the livingroom, until she gasped and sat up.
The girl screamed and forced Remy to look at what had caught her attention. She had begun fixing her blouse and backing up as the man came closer.
Remy stood up and tried to comfort her. He was in between the frightened girl and Logan, before he was gruffly tossed aside by the older man and watched as Logan chased the girl around.
Dodging the attacks and angry swipes, the girl managed to run out of the house in a panic. Logan smirked at her leaving.
Logan had turned his attention to a far corner, to where a petrified
Remy had been huddled. Making his way over to the boy, Remy had begun to
babble in french. Releasing his claws, he dragged Remy out
of the corner and holding him up to look at him. Cursing and threatening
Remy, he hissed. "What in the Hell was she doing here? HUH?! Did you fuck
her, too?" His eyes narrowed as he stared into Remy's eyes and inhaled
the sopping wet fear scent, from the boy. He growled again, and shook Remy
furiously. Inhaling deeply, he narrowed his eyes. "You did, didn't
ya? Was she good?"
Remy's breathing was erratic and he was shaking violently. "Non cher! We jus' talk."
Logan shook him even more. "Was she good, boy?" He asked in an almost mad fashion.
Panting, Remy whimpered and answered. "Logan, please! Remy didn' fuck nobody!" Nervous gasps escaped him and he flinched in waiting on Logan's next move.
"Did ya use yer tricks on her, too?" Logan spat, sarcastically.
Remy shook his head. "Logan, we waitin' fo' you. She new in town." Remy
eyed the 6 claws as he was lifted up off the floor and held there, by the
shirt. He was visibly shaking now. His heart pounded noisily in his chest.
He was feeling quite sick and light-headed as he stared down at the 6 points
of claws. Remy's hands reached up to grip Logan's wrists and try to work
himself free. It was no use. He was trembling so badly, he felt as if he
were standing in an earthquake that registered off the scale. He whimpered
again and forced himself to be quiet as he stared into Logan's eyes and
choked a hard swallow. He'd managed to quiet his voice, and stop the trembles
but not well enough. Convulsions started. He pleaded with himself to calm
down, and closed his eyes to help himself relax. Remy gasped outloud as
a warm, wet feeling ran down his leg in a narrow trickle. His face had
turned a darker red
and he gulped at the air in shame. This set Logan through the roof.
Remy's mind was burning and his head pounded as he was forced to feel Logan's
rage. He was taken by surprise as Logan dropped him and pushed him back
against the floor.
Logan had begun putting his claws to use. Shreading Remy's clothing
and reveling in the sight of Remy trying to cover his face with his arms,
and staring at Logan as if he were lost in a nightmare. When he was finished
he sheathed his claws and grabbed Remy's arms and pulled him to his feet.
He growled as Remy hadn't been able to stand right away, due to shaking
so badly. "Pissin yerself on my rug? Do ya need me ta clean ya up, too?"
With a grunt, Logan pulled Remy into the entranceway and up the stairs
to the bathroom. The boy had protested but Logan held firm to him.
They struggled, and again Logan won out with a growl and forced Remy into
the tub and moved to cork it. Starting the water, he made sure it was nice
and hot. In his drunkeness, he hadn't realised that although it was comfortable
to him,
it was next to lava for the boy.
Remy's voice was screaming into Logan's ringing ears. The young man
was begging and pleading with him to let him out. Afraid he would be burnt,
or held under the boiling water until he couldn't breathe. But, he was
being forced to sit there, and be washed? Logan picked up a brush and soap
and had
started scrubbing him to the point Remy thought he'd be skinned to
the bone. Now the man took the pitcher of equal temperatured water, and
dumped it over Remy's head. Each hot drop was making him scream in pain
as if it were acid and not water. Harsh hands were working at his hair.
Pulling his auburn locks as they were being washed, and then drenched at
the water, again.
Reaching into the water, Logan was taken back at how hot the water actually was. He snorted and continued reaching for the plug to let the water out. Keeping his hand on Remy's left wrist, he turned back to see only fear and shame in the boy's strange eyes. A growl in his throat gave him the permission to lift the boy out of the tub and reach for a towel that had been hanging on the wall, beside the toilet. Forcing it onto the boy's naked, wet, and very red body, Logan stepped back and sat down on the toiletseat lid. "Don't stand there shaking, dry yer damn self, boy."
Gingerly patting himself down, and not being able to control his sobs,
Remy eyed Logan from the
middle of the room. What was next, he wondered? Standing up again,
Remy held the towel in front of him, and watched as Logan stood up to inspect
him. Admiring his rage's handywork? That was a first. Remy froze as Logan
walked completely around him and stopping as they came face to face, again.
"How long she been here?" Logan was forcing himself to keep his rage to himself. He wasn't so angry with the kid anymore. It was more that he was angry with himself for being so uncaring towards the boy.
Remy blinked and shuttered. "In town? Two weeks. Met 'er yes'erday."
Logan was slowly calming down. "Did you fuck her?" He knew the kid had to answer, in truth. But, he wouldn't blame the kid for a half detailed answer, this time.
"Oui." Remy hung his head and lowered his gaze to the floor, in shame. His body burned and hurt.
"Where?"
"On de floor. In de livingroom." Remy froze again. Another slap? Or would Logan use his claws, this time?
"Did you like it?" Logan was not so much curious, as he was needing to hear the answer. He wanted to know the boy could move on from what he was thinking of doing.
"Oui." Remy nodded and kept his gaze on the floor.
Logan was gentle now. Easing the towel out of Remy's hands, he used
it to cover the boy's shoulders, like a cape, and then promptly left the
room. He was aware that Remy was now following him, cautiously. He walked
into their bedroom and around to his side of the bed. Pulling out a small
brown suitcase, he placed it on the bed and opened it. Moving to his dresser
and opening drawers to remove
his clothing, he caught Remy standing in the doorway.
"Where y' goin', cher?" Remy dropped the towel and came into the room.
Logan stood at his dresser with a hand full of clothing. He couldn't bring himself to turn around and see the blistering boy, behind him. "I think it's best if we stay away from each other for awhile. We both need a rest." He kicked himself for saying it.
"Non. Remy don' wan' y' ta leave. Please cher, don' go? Remy be so good
to you, mon cher. Remy never leave yo' side." Remy stood at the end of
the bed, now. Dropping to his knees and clasping his hands together. He
was sobbing and pleading for the man to stop packing.
To be continued.......