FicWad

"No."

Logan sighed. "This isn't up for discussion."

"No. I'm saying no, Logan." Scott cocked his head and looked Logan over. "I'm serious." He stepped back into his room.

Logan grabbed the door before Scott was able to slam it in his face. "Scott, we're not arguing about this."

"Good." He tried to slam the door again, but Logan stopped it again.

"You promised. Not just me. You promised Rogue, Bobby, Peter, and Jubilee. You swore days ago that you'd take them to the movies. You can't back out now."

Logan watched as the indignant strength left Scott's body. He wilted before Logan's eyes, the blood that had flushed the pretty face draining until Scott was nothing more than a small, pale boy.

He let his hand drop from the door. Stumbled back into his room. "Please, don't make me. You can take them. Get Storm, she's free. I can't..."

"It's been almost two months since you've left the mansion." Logan followed Scott into his room. "It's time."

"No."

"I ain't giving you a choice. Get dressed. Now. Wash your face. You've got fifteen minutes."

"I don't take orders..."

"This isn't X-Men business. Get dressed."

"I don't let my..." he faltered for the words. Mouth moved. No words came out.

"Uh.."

"Friends," he suddenly snapped, cutting off whatever grunts Logan was going to produce. No words for him, either; Scott had flitted dangerously close to uncertain territory. "I don't let my friends order me around."

Feeling reckless for reasons he didn't want to examine, Logan stepped into Scott's room. Stepped into Scott's personal space, faces inches apart. He slid his hands up Scott's arms before wrapping them around his biceps. "Maybe you should try it, sometime."

Pink flooded Scott's face, coloring his cheeks. He chewed on his lower lip, heat and desire and fear radiating off him in waves. When Logan moved closer, he could smell the spicy tang of arousal and sweat.

"I don't," Scott started, but the thought dried up, unfinished.

Logan nuzzled him under the ear, brushing his nose over a sensitive patch a skin.

Scott trembled.

"Ever thought about giving up control for awhile?" he asked softly. His lips moved over Scott's neck as he spoke.

The other man cleared his throat. His weight shifted so he was supporting himself less and allowing Logan to hold him more.

"I'm not ready."

Logan's grip tightened involuntarily. When Scott made a softly pained noise, he forced himself to relax. "Maybe not. But it won't kill you to try."

"Logan."

He stopped Scott's words with a kiss. Scott had already begun to relax, but at the touch of Logan's lips, all the tension flooded out of his body until he was completely pliant in Logan's arms. His hands came up on either side of Logan's face, fingers threading through his hair. Scott's mouth moved under Logan's, tongue colliding and retreating and twisting and turning around Logan's own.

But through all that, he stayed limp. Relaxed. Completely at Logan's mercy and control.

Logan tore his mouth away. His head spun. His lungs burned.

"We need to stop or I won't be able to." It came out as a growl.

Scott nodded, mouth open, panting. His fingers kneaded Logan's hair, pressed against his scalp. His body was tight against Logan's own.

"Right," he said. His voice shook.

Logan swallowed. He didn't feel quite in control. "You need to get ready."

He nodded. "Right." Unclenching his hands from Logan's hair, Scott pushed him away. "Get out so I can change."

"You don't have anything I haven't seen..."

Kiss-swollen lips twitched. "I said go." He pushed again, harder, moving Logan to the door.

Logan humored him, and allowed himself to be propelled out into the hallway. He smirked at Scott as he slammed the door. Like that was going to keep him from spying. Maybe he couldn't see inside, but he still had ears.

The kid didn't sound happy, despite the fact the impromptu make-out session had changed his mind. Inside the room, dresser drawers slammed. Feet stomped across the floor. The bathroom door rattled on it's hinges. Even the water had an angry sound.

A razor buzzed on. Logan smiled at that. The kid hadn't shaved in a few days, and while it was definitely a sensory experience to feel the bristles against his own, he missed the smooth skin. Besides. Scott was too pretty to hide behind whiskers. He needed to let it show.

"Stupid animal bastard," Logan heard through the door. It was whispered, but Scott had to know how good his hearing was by now. It was deliberate. A taunt. No, more than that. He was working himself into a royal snit and letting Logan know.

Frankly, Logan didn't care if the kid was angry or not. He could go out in his uniform and clear the theater with his laser blasts for all Logan cared. Just as long as he went out.

Two months since Jean's death, and Scott hadn't gone further outside than the garden. And even then, he had to be dragged out by one of the kids or Logan. He was eating, teaching, and sleeping. He'd stopped crying himself to sleep every night, although the tears hadn't stopped completely. He hadn't gotten drunk since that night Logan had found him, though, and that was something.

And, about half the nights, he slept in Logan's arms. Granted, it was usually on the couch in front of the television, but still. It was nice not having to sleep alone and knowing that he wasn't going to hurt someone on awakening.

Even the few times Logan had had nightmares, he'd never come close to harming a hair on Scott's head. He wasn't sure why it was different with Scott. He wasn't going to question that it was.

The door was yanked open. "Okay, I'm ready. Happy?"

Logan looked Scott over. His eyebrows furrowed. "Are you kidding?"

Hesitation flashed over Scott's face. He looked down at himself. "What?"

"You look... I'm no fashion expert, but even I know that you don't wear stripes and plaids together. You're making me dizzy just looking at you."

"Is it that bad?"

"Let's just say, I'm getting an idea why Jean never worried about taking you out in public. No one would be able to get past the clothes to see your face."

Scott's head snapped up. A myriad of expressions flashed over his face, ranging from engaged to pleased. He settled on an embarrassed flush, cheeks endearingly red, bottom lip caught by his teeth.

The door closed in Logan's face again. When it opened again, he was in jeans. Same striped shirt, but at least he no longer clashed.

"Better?" he asked. A hank of hair fell over his forehead.

"Much." Logan looped his finger through Scott's belt buckle and tugged. "Let's get the kids."

The kids were waiting in a hyperactive group by the door. Rogue and Jubilee were talking a mile a minute while they traded lipstick back and forth. Peter and Bobby were roughhousing, throwing punches and body slams. The fact that Bobby wasn't a smear on the floor told Logan they were just screwing around rather than really testing their strength. It always took him aback to remember that, even with training and powers and the seriousness of everything, they were still all just kids.

"Let's load up," Logan said, interrupting the noise. "When we get to the theater, stay in sight." He glared at Jubilee and Peter. "And no touching."

Scott put his hand on Logan's arm. "No below the, uh, shoulder touching. Within reason, I mean."

Some of the light went out of Marie's eyes. Logan felt bad, but Jubilee needed to be reminded. Not a day went by without him stumbling across her and Peter hidden in some corner of the mansion. It wasn't that he cared about propriety, but if he wasn't getting any, no one else should either.

After a brief struggle, Logan got possession of the driver's seat. Scott sat, pouting, next to him. The kids piled in the back and talked in that strange half-language of teenagers. By the time they'd made the fifteen minute drive to the theater, Logan had counted fifty-six "likes" forty-two "oh, um, ands," and fifteen "randoms."

Kids.

The theater was crowded. They got tickets to the action movie the kids had decided on (thank God; Logan didn't think he'd be able to make it through a romance, especially not with a grieving Scott next to him). Popcorn, soda, and candy cost an arm and a leg, but it was on the professors dime, so Logan just shelled out the money without a word. Once inside, the kids took off to find their seats, well within site of Logan and Scott, and they found theirs. Together, in a dark corner. Not quite alone, but good enough.

When the lights went down and the previews started, Logan covered Scott's hand with his own. "This okay?" he asked, voice low.

Scott started at the screen. His face, bisected by the ruby quartz glasses, looked impassive. Nothing new. It was something that'd always drive Logan crazy about him, not being able to figure out what he was thinking just by looking. He had to rely on scent and body language, and that just took more energy than necessary.

Still. He saw Scott swallow. Lips press together. "Yeah." He turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. "Yeah. It's fine." He looked at Logan. Smiled a very smile smile that almost wasn't. Then he turned back to watch the movie.

The warm glow of triumph spread through Logan. He didn't bother to stop the smile that stretched over his face as he leaned back against. The kid was going to be fine.