Logan knew he had to be crushing her, but he was utterly boneless.

Maybe, maybe if he really tried he could lift up and brace himself with at least one arm….

No, no that’s not going to happen. It’s not just because he’s lacking the strength, but it’s because Marie has her body completely wrapped around his. If it were anyone else he’d probably feel trapped, desperate to get away.

Not with her though. This is entirely different.

He can at least put some weight on his forearms, which encircle her head. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks he’s stroking her hair, still so soft and smooth even after what they’ve just done. His face turned into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, just breathing her in, listening to her pulse returning to normal, occasionally tasting her there. He momentarily catalogues the slightly salty taste of her sweat, maybe a little of his. Takes a deep appreciation of their combined scents too, along with the light lingering honeysuckle of Marie’s soap. Just taking her in the way only his senses could right now. She’s reduced him to this, managed to drain him in a way that her mutation never could and he should feel helpless.

He doesn’t though.

She’s must be fairing better than he is even if he can’t see her face to judge. One hand lazily running along the length of his back, when only moments before she was using those same fingers to dig furrows into the paths she’s now tracing. The other hand is concentrated at the nape of his neck, which he’s come to find is one of her favorite places. Now it’s his too. She uses just enough pressure to rub at the muscles in his neck and the back of his head, sometimes playing with his hair. Marie had always loved running her fingers through his hair even when she couldn’t touch. That’s something that hasn’t changed now that she can.

He let’s out a muffled moan as her hand finds a knot in his neck that he’s been trying to work out for days. Marie massages a little deeper there. She’s always admonishing him for carrying tension in his upper back. He doesn’t mind the constant comments because she usually takes care of it.

Her legs aren’t still either. Even lying prone as he is Logan notices the balance of toned muscle and the delicate structure of them. The softness of course, compared to his own body, which she insists – with her own version of a feral gleam – is one of the best parts of him. The left leg is still hoisted around his hip, although it’s lacking the tension that was laced through her body before. The right one…well that’s going to get her in a lot of trouble if she keeps rubbing it up and down the back of his legs like that. She knows, which is why she’s doing it of course.

Logan gives her a rumble of acknowledgement and since their chests are still touching he can feel her quiet chuckle answering him. He’s got to see her face.

Mustering up his returning strength – second best use of a healing mutation – he finally raises up to look at Marie’s expression. Her eyes, even darker now with the knowledge that they’re not done yet. He can drown in them if he’s not careful. Those lips are just as dangerous on any given day, but especially now that they’re redder, fuller. Promising. Just like her smile. That’s when he takes it all in. She’s smiling at him as if he didn’t just spend most of the day and a good portion of the evening debauching her. At least that’s how he likes to think of it.

“Hi” Her simple smile widens probably as much as his eyes do. Hi? She’s far too composed for what they’ve just done…multiple times…for a couple hours now. Her hands and legs still moving, still not overly suggestive. Just enough.

“Hi” His greeting is much deeper than hers, but their expressions mirror one another.

It’s a first for him - staying, touching, experiencing. He’s still not at full capacity after all of that. He’s still feeling a bit unsteady, relying on her enveloping embrace to bring him around and again he has the fleeting thought that this should make him feel weak.

But he looks at her loving expression and he doesn’t.

He feels humbled.