Author: LionGoddess97

Disclaimer: I don’t any of the Marvel characters being used in this story.

Archive: If you like, you can

Pairing: Logan/Remy, Logan/Others

Rating: NC-17

Category: Alternate Universe

Summary: Logan has been dreaming of Remy, a college student he meet and who will change him forever.

Dreams Do Come True

          There’s a buzzing in my ears, the sound of bees, and a sudden hail of bullets flying past me. I wake up with a start to the screaming of the alarm clock going off, my hands wrapped around a piss-filled morning hard-on.

          Another boring night in the parking lot at the community college, keeping an eye on people’s cars, and making sure they don’t drive off all by themselves. I feel like I’m on display in this goddamned little booth. There’s nothing in here but a low shelf and the incident report book, heating/cooling system, the emergency telephone, which only called up to the main security office, and a hard wood chair. I do manage to bring a small hand held TV to keep me company. The other security officers make rounds stop by in their Cushmans every hour to see how I’m doing. One of the officers said to me, “The new guy always get the shit job, believe me buddy we all had to do this.” The officers laugh and wave as they ride away. “Thanks a lot that makes sitting here so much better,” I said.

          I’m suppose to be vigilant at all times but fuck it. I can read the paper or turn back to watching TV and I still make sure no one breaks into somebody’s car. Every now and then a student may ask me a question or visitors needing directions. Sometimes people just want to talk. We’re not suppose to fraternize either...what do they except us to do, just sit and do nothing?

          This one young man has started to hang out with me a couple of times a week after his classes, waiting for his ride to show. Very friendly, always smiling, cute as hell. A slim, tanned skinned guy, just turning twenty maybe. We talk and, well...okay, maybe I do hit on him, but it’s nothing serious. I know a lot of guys can’t keep their hands off youngsters like that. Me, I think it’s best to just leave ’em alone. They may look fine, but what do I have in common with some kid more than ten years or more my age? The way this guy keeps sniffing all around up under me, I know what we have in common.... I guess I could give him some, what the hell. It might be fun. I can’t say I’ve ever turned down a piece of tail in my life.

          I’m dreaming I’m climbing up a long flight of stairs. People are sitting on them, waiting, one on the left side five flights from the bottom, the next on the right five above that; mainly guys, sitting like this all the way up to the top. I pass the first guy. He’s beautiful, with amazingly full lips and heavy eyebrows above sparkling dark eyes, wearing a pair of shorts that hug so well on him. The next guy is in a very well fitted three-piece suit, his muscles bulge the sleeves; the pants strain at his massive thighs. He looks like a model; his smile made even more intriguing by smile he gave me. It’s like this all the way up the stairs-a multihued spectrum of men sitting on the steps, watching me as I pass. Cooks and police officers, judges in their robes, basketball and football players, and transit workers: all beautiful, sitting and watching me.

          I’m seeing all my fantasies stretched out before me. Soon the faces become familiar. I’m surrounded by my exes---Nate, Scott, Kurt, guys I’ve had relationships with, guys I did for fun, the one-night stands I thought I had forgotten, girls I even experimented with; my whole history flows up and down the stairs. As I near the top I turn and sit, surrounded by my dreams and fantasies of the present and the future. I sit and wait with them, not sure what is I’m waiting for. I wake up confused, more tired than I was when I went to sleep.

          “Remy,” he’d said the first night. “Remy LeBeau.” He’s from Louisiana. His family is into the trade business and they traveled a lot. Me, I’ve been stuck in this damned town. He seems smart enough to have gone pretty much anywhere for college. Why he chose York University is beyond me. He says he wanted to stick close to his dad, needed some kind of stability in his life. But now he’s feeling restless. “I have to move out,” Remy said. “Can’t live with my dad forever. Need to get a car too, so I can stop borrowing his or waiting on rides from people. I want to have a life of my own; you know what I mean homme?” He smiles at me. Wish he would stop doing that...

          I tell him a little about myself, the various jobs I’d had before this one, which I’d just, started with the school year. The other security job I have on the weekends at senior citizens building to help make ends meat. I tell him what it was growing up in Canada and the small town I came from, where everyone was in your business and having to keep thing to yourself. He nods.

          I don’t really say much of anything to be honest. I let Remy do the talking so I can just stare at his full, plump lips. Then his ride pulls in at the far end of the parking lot. Remy says, “See ya!” I try not to be too obvious rearranging the hard-on in my pants. Shit! I think, watching Remy’s butt jiggle slightly as he trots off. Screwing him would be like fucking a flower.

          I’m wandering through a humid maze, naked men in the shadows along the walls: a bathhouse I used to frequent years ago. A man slightly taller than me, he’s wearing boots, leather pants, and a leather vest over his bare hairy chest. I reach under the leather daddy's vest to flick and pinch his nipples, then dive in to kiss them. I close my eyes. When I open them, he’s gone. I’m in a classroom. No one there but Remy and me. No sound comes out as he begins to speak. Instead, sunlight spills from Remy’s mouth. He reaches out to touch me. His fingers brush against my arm, leaving dark marks on my skin. I wake up with a start-half an hour before the alarm is set to go off-to a flash of lightning, the sound of a distant rumble, a morning thunderstorm rattling the windows.

          Hot as hell tonight. Indian summer. I don’t want to leave the booth, where I’ve got the AC on so high it’s almost chilly. Since the air in my apartment is shot, I wouldn’t mind working all night right here, just to be cool. A lot of the instructors let their students out early since most of the classrooms feel like they’re on fire. Remy wears a Knicks tank top and shorts. I have to call him on that and hype up my Raptors. We talk about hoops for a while, our favorite players, who we think is going to take it all this year. I want to invite him into the booth to catch some of the air, but there’s barely enough room for me up in here. Remy just leans in at the door. It’s hard to concentrate with his tanned quarter-size nipples winking at me from behind the tank top. I can’t even look down. His auburn hairs twist up and down his bare legs like fine writing. My mouth fills with water. I want to trace those letters up and down his calves and thighs with my tongue, reading what it says.

          “You all right, homme?” Remy asks. “You in there with all that AC but you’re still sweating.”

          “Yeah, kid, fine. Just fine.”

          So hot in the apartment I can barely sleep. The bed is like a swamp. Bare-assed and spread-eagled on top of it, begging for a breeze, my hand casually falls to my exposed dick. Might as well do something. I begin to stroke. I close my eyes. Guys I’ve been with, guys I’d love to do flicker across my eyelids like flash cards. My head fills with faces, reaching hands, offered necks, wet nipples, hard cocks, and friendly asses. Pulling on myself faster, I focus on a favorite scene from a porno, four guys like together in an oral daisy chain. Every guy mouth is filled with someone’s cock and I’m also in the action. On the down stroke that finally pops my nut, the guy sucking on my dick looks up. I wake up with a start. It’s Remy. My sperm glistens across my stomach in the morning light.

----/----/----/----/

          I try to think of ways to get Remy to stay longer. I step out of the booth now; walk with him around the parking lot. He touches me on my arm as we talk, casually, as if it didn’t mean anything. To be honest, maybe it doesn’t mean anything. He always has to hurry off with the other riders in his car pool, and says he’s too busy with school and two jobs at the mall to get together any time just to hang. Even his weekends are booked up.

          I want to believe I get Remy as hot as he gets me. I know he’s interested because of the way he continues to hang around. I’m not that great a talker. I’ve seen the way he looks at me, too, his eyes traveling up and down my uniform, checking me out. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing to me, even though I haven’t said anything. The truth is, he’s probably seeing someone. The truth is he probably thinks I’m too old for him; I know how these young ones can be. He gives me this “I’m too busy” bullshit to spare my feelings. Hunger and lust must be pouring from my eyes every time I look at him. To him it probably seems like an old man’s desperation.

          I stare at him tonight longer than usual, not saying anything. He stares right back, not telling me to stop. His eyes are like nothing I’ve ever seen. So odd they’re beautiful. He hinds them from others with those shades, but around me he doesn’t do it. Then he nods. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay.” We both look away.

          He clears his throat. “I’m doing my midterm paper on Edgar Poe for American Lit class. He was a collection of some of his work in this book.

          I just shake my head.

          “You should read some of this stories sometimes. It’s very good, yet weird. He was a depress

author like most back then. You should read it. Here you can have my copy and I’ll get another.”

          “I’ll read it...I like reading so it might be interesting, keep me on my toes.” I pointed to a worn copy of a Walt Whitman novel I’ve been rereading in the booth...poetry.

          “You enjoy that book...a poetry man.” Remy pointing to the book Logan was reading. Remy’s car pool turned into the parking lot. “Show me a little affection here, homme.” We quickly hug and pat each other on the back.

          I have no idea why I’m being so...polite. What’s wrong with me? Back in the past I would’ve gotten into Remy’s pants long before this. I would have been banging the shit out of him for weeks by now. But I keep hesitating. I want to ask him out on a date, for pete sake!

          I don’t really want to have a relationship with this boy--do I? Still as much as I’m attracted to Remy, this doesn’t seem like it entirely a physical thing...Wait, wait, wait, I mean, yes, of course, it IS a physical thing. The boy’s beautiful, as hell and I’ll love to just tear into him. But it’s more than that...It almost feels like...Oh, fuck it; I might be falling for him.

          I’ve never felt this young in my life. Being with Remy has made time move backward. I feel as though we were back in high school, passing notes and shit. I see parts of him everywhere, guys who have his eyes, his hands, his shoulders, and the same walk. Some of the people at the senior citizens building even gave me ideas of what Remy would look like when he gets to be their age. Every week I imagine myself showing up in his dreams. I see our shadows on the asphalt in the parking lot making crazy love to each while our bodies go on talking and smiling, acting like nothing’s going on.

          Remy’s still booked up. He seems genuinely sorry but still keeps blowing me off. “You must be seeing somebody,” I say.

          “Nah. I don’t have time for a relationship right now. Besides, I don’t think I’ve found The One yet, you know?” He glances at me, waiting.

          “Really? As good-looking as you are, I would’ve thought...” He shakes his head. ‘But then, I’m not seeing anybody either, so...”

          “No? Big good-looking guy like you, and with a job too?”

He punches me lightly on the chest. “I would’ve thought...”

          I shake my head. “You got no time at all? Not even for just one drink? A soda? Coffee? Come on...”

          Remy sighs and slowly walks off to his ride.

          Every night when I try to think of someone else, Remy cock-blocks me. Tonight I try remembering the last young guy I used to know. Also in his twenties, I used to suck his sweet cock, turn him around and tongue him clean, then slide my fat dick far up his ass. He was the only guy I’ve ever met who’d suck his thumb as he was getting fucked. It was weird, but it turned me on, and I would pound him harder. Just as I’m about to cum thinking about Warren, I find myself back at work, in the booth in the parking lot, talking to Remy. My erection fades. I glance at Remy’s lips. He mumbles something I can’t quite make it out as his face draws close to mine. Suddenly we’re kissing. The first one is brief, to test the waters. The next is firmer; more certain this is what they both wanted. I dive in again. His lips are sweet like honey, with the slightly spicy undertone. I thought I ready for this, excepted it even, but realize I am not. I wake up and my head is spinning. I can’t breathe. I feel as though I’m falling off the roof of the world. Damn dream.

          Remy reads part of his term paper to me after his class. “Good job, bub,” I say with my head down. He nods. It seems like he’s done, then suddenly he closes his eyes. Remy begins to recite a little bit of some of his poetry he wrote:

          “Behold this hard face, those blue eyes, cold yet so calm.

          A patch of gray set in his beard and hair wild yet tamed...”

          When he finishes I just stared at him. HE’S TALKING ABOUT ME. He means me. I cleared my throat. “You know I’ve been rereading Walt Whitman and I was interested in this one piece in the book.”

          “Oh yeah? So how long had you been reading that book? He asks me. “For a week or two,” I replied. I handed him the book to read the selection; my hand was starting trembling. “You read it.”

          “You always this shy, Logan?” Shit no wonder you can’t get a date!” I’m only shy around you Remy, I thought to myself. Remy moves closer to a streetlight to read it:

          “Passing stranger! You do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)”

          “You don’t have to read the goddamned thing aloud, you know!”

          “Why not? There’s no one here but us.” I sigh and mumble “Fuck” under my breath.

          “Okay,” Remy says, “okay...I’ll keep it to myself.” He finishes the poem.

          “Nice,” he says softly. “Didn’t know we were still strangers, though...”

          I open my mouth to say something, but see Remy’s ride pull up to the entrance of the parking lot.

          Since you like Whitman, I’ll bring some more authors for you to read. He hands back the book to me and slips a piece of paper also into my hand. Holding our goodbye hug longer and tighter than usual, he kiss me on the cheek, almost close to my lips, before grinning and running off to catch his ride. “Call me!” came out from the dark parking lot. “I mean it, homme, call me. I get a break from classes and so we really need to talk!”

          The memory of his kiss glowed on my face all night, lighting my way home.

          I’m wandering through the bathhouse again. A husky blonde-headed guy stops me. He leans into my ear. “You own me a scream,” he whispers. I slide my tongue into his slowly parting mouth, squeezing both fingers around his manhood. He moans and grabs my swollen meat. Soon we are kissing feverishly, stroking each other. His lips are tasty like a cherry. The air blooms with our musk. I am mesmerized by the thick cock in my hand and go down, swallowing it in one gulp. The guy sucks in air and leans back, his chest heaving as I slurp and stroke his maleness. I move up, suck the flat hairy brownish coins of his nipples tasting sweat. My mouth and tongue move across his broad hairy chest, then on to lick his neck. He sucks the taste of his body from my tongue, kissing me so hungrily.

          He turns me around so I face the wall and presses against me. The blunt ridge of his cock in the crack of my ass feels good. It’s been a long time since I’ve been fucked and I look forward to having him inside me. Instead the guy slips to the floor, spreads my cheeks and begins to lick. I moan softly as he eats my ass. Another hand reaches out and pulls me to eager pair of lips as my salad gets tossed. Remy’s face is in my neck. He is kissing me. He nibbles at my earlobe, and then bites it. I wince in pain. He holds me tightly to him and chomps into my neck. I feel the blood rushing from me as he sucks my blood. I try to push him from me but grow weaker. I wake up with a start as Remy begins to devour me, moving into take an enormous bite out of my face.

          “So how come you didn’t call me, homme?” Remy asks the following week. I mumble, fumble, and look away. Say something about thinking might have had to study, not wanting to disturb him when he was with his family.

          He nods. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what I thought. That’s okay, Logan. It’s cool.”

          I’m a typical man, okay? I didn’t call. Instead I went out to a bar. The place was packed; everyone a little hyped up and horny as hell. Everyone could’ve gotten lucky if they gave it half a chance, even me.

          I picked up this guy from out of town just looking for a good time, which was fine by me. We went back to his hotel room, and flew into each other. It was like we hadn’t had sex in years. I don’t even remember taking off my clothes. I think they just burned off or something from the heat between us. The guy, Bobby, was the color of buttermilk and golden blonde hair. We both made the same small sharp grunts of pleasure when he fucks me. Bobby moaned, sighed, and damned near spoke in tongues when we flipped and I started to give him some dick. I was sure he woke his neighbors with his yelling when he came. It was a great night. I woke up the next day drained and exhausted, bedclothes on the floor, and the room smell of a good fuck. He promised to call me when he comes back though town around Thanksgiving. He wants me to wear my uniform next time, and to bring my handcuffs and a nightstick.

          I’m no fool. I didn’t tell Remy any of this. “Maybe you should call me,” I said, ripping a strip of paper from the incident report book to give him my number.

          “Yeah, yeah, okay.” Remy shrugs his shoulders. “That’ll be good. I’ll think about it.” He folds my number in half, slips it into his pocket. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, which he no longer really cares.

          I also didn’t tell Remy that I woke up next to Bobby, for a moment in my morning haze I’d imagined I had been sleeping next to him, next to Remy, all through the night. I’m a fool.

          Remy and I are in my apartment, watching a basketball game. We’re both sweaty and tired as if we’d just played one-on-one ourselves. Our shoes and socks were off. Remy’s long toes move back and forth as if waving in a breeze only they can feel. I bend down to touch them, and then kiss them. I lovingly suck each one of his toes into my mouth. Moving slowly, we begin to explore each other’s bodies. We memorize each other’s faces with our fingers; explore our bodies with slow-moving hands. Suddenly, we stop. What was that noise? Our words trip over each other as we try to speak at the same time. We laugh. My dick sprang up, making a thick lump in my sweat pants, and I drop my hands to hide it and as I glance over, Remy had done the same thing. “You can’t help it, you know!” We try to play off what had happened, is happening, will happen, as a joke, “just one of those things”...”I think I should go, Remy said. I nodded, but neither of us moved.

          The next week I’m the one, who’s saying, “So why didn’t you call me?”

          “We had our finals this week. Too busy studying, I guess.”

He looks at me so coldly. Guess he thinks he’s putting me in my place.

          “What are you doing during the semester break? Going anyplace?

          “Nah, I think I’ll be here, just hanging out and working.

          “Well, think about giving me a call so we could hook up sometime.

          “Sure, okay.”

          I start to say something then stop; Remy‘s car pool will be here in moment. “Fuck it,” I think...

          “Look, Remy, I understand if you don’t want to be bothered with me. I don’t mind. I probably seem like a desperate old man to you, all dried up and shit--”

          “You’re not old!” Remy lays a hand on my shoulder. “And you’re certainly not dried up.” His fingers slide down my arm, squeezing my biceps. “You still got life in you.” He suddenly reaches out and grabs my crotch. “Hell of life left in you, if you ask me.”

          I stare at him as calmly as I can with his hand wrapped around my dick and glance over his shoulder. “Your rides here, bub.”

          “Uh huh...it’s right here, Chere.” He gives my awakening jimmy a tug.

          “Stop it, bub, get out of here. Your ride...”The car is getting closer to us, its headlights becoming brighter. Remy pulls his hand away and we hug goodbye. It was different it was. I pulled Remy tighter in the embrace and I kiss him on the lips. I didn’t care anymore who saw us. “Call me,” I whispered. “Please, Remy. Just call me. You don’t know, darling, you just don’t know...” Remy stares at me and slowly walks away.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please.” My body glows like polished bronze. Staring into my eyes, he carefully positions himself and eases down. His ass inhales me like a starving mouth. His head rolls from side to side as I fill him with my maleness. He puts two fingers in my mouth. I suck them greedily as he rides my rippling hips, a cowboy trying to break a bucking stallion. I shot into him as if I were on fire. He shudders. Thick seed bursts from his bouncing cock. His asshole clamps down on me and I’m ready to explode as well. I call out his name. Twin foundations spurt up, reaching toward the ceiling. His whole body vibrates, and pulls him to me, falling yet again into the plush cavern of his mouth. I hold him close; feel his racing heart against my skin. Our breathing returns to normal, and he is older, we both are older. We’ve lived together as a couple for years and years. It’s our anniversary and we’ve been remembering our first time. Slowly I open my eyes and find myself alone in my bed, tightly holding a pillow, my body cold and wet, the sheets stained with sweat, saliva, cum and tears.

          The next morning the phone rings. It’s Remy. He apologizes for waking me, says he’s having trouble sleeping the night before. Seems he keeps having this recurring dream...

          “You want to talk about it? Maybe we could meet somewhere. I could come over there...”

          “No, I’ll come to you.” A pause. “Guess who bought a car yesterday with the money he’s been making and saving with his two jobs.

          I give Remy directions and hang up the phone.

          I feel like I’m falling. The entire world is silent, except for the pounding of my heart.