When we finally kissed - an electricity-charged moment in the Danger Room neither of us had expected or planned - Logan couldn’t handle it. Told me it was wrong. That he was no good for me. That I deserved better. The taste of him still lingered on my lips as Scott’s bike roared away across the Institute grounds.
I was upset and disappointed but, in all honesty, had expected as much. This was Logan after all. Running was his middle name. The thing he did best.
But I was also confident that he’d be back. That he wouldn’t be able to fight his feelings forever. He may have been the Wolverine but he was also a man. And that heated kiss, that desperate look in his eyes, the heaving of his chest as he struggled to restrain himself, well, it told me everything. Told me that he loved me even if he couldn’t accept it himself.
He was gone four months, two weeks and three days. I must’ve re-played that kiss a million times in my head. I yearned for him. Missed him so much it hurt. And there was always the secret fear that he wouldn’t come back. Ever.
So when we finally came face to face again I did exactly what I promised myself I wouldn’t do. I burst into tears.
It was 2am on a warm summer’s night. I was alone in the kitchen, Logan’s memories having given me a taste for brooding in the dark with an ice cold beer.
One moment I was relishing the coldness of the beer as it rushed down my throat, the next I was gaping at the man I loved more than anyone else in the whole world. The man who *was* my world.
He looked tired, dishevelled, but different somehow. There was a light in his eyes that I had never seen before. It might have been hope, but then again it might have been a trick of the silken moonlight that bathed the room.
We stared at one another for what seemed like hours, not talking, exchanging something indefinable…yet something precious. The sultry air around us thickened, became intangible, and I dared not even breathe for fear of shattering the most sublime, most mysterious of moments.
He suddenly dropped his bag and I instinctively stood up. Moved out from the table and walked over to him. Our eyes remained locked the whole time as if the fire of our mutual desire had soldered them together.
I stopped a short distance from him, a sad but teasing smile tugging at my lips. “Four months, two weeks -”
“An’ three days,” he finished hoarsely, surprising me, and my heart burned at the sound of his voice, at the fact that he had been counting the days too.
“Too long,” I whispered, and that’s when I burst into tears. Tears of frustration…of relief. Tears that I had held back for so long.
“Marie…god, Marie…I…I…”
I was suddenly in his arms, and his mouth, so hot and demanding, was devouring mine with an intensity that made that Danger Room kiss seem a mere peck on the cheek. So much heat, so much desperation…so much need…flooded from him into me and no mutation was necessary this time for a connection to be made.
When we eventually parted, breathless, overwhelmed, and impatient for that next physical step, I noticed that Logan’s eyes were glistening with his own emotion. “I’m sorry, kid,” he murmured, holding me tight, burying his face into my hair.
“For what?” I asked, terrified that he was going to say something I didn’t want to hear.
“For runnin’ again.”
I smiled giddily, running feather-light kisses up his neck and provoking a soft, subtle growl from his inner Wolverine. “It’s what you do best,” I reassured, already hopelessly addicted to the smell, the feel, the perfect taste of him. “Only next time I’m runnin’ with you. K?”
The hungry kiss that followed was answer enough. The frantic, fervent, love making that followed that kiss sealed the deal.
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Story Notes:
Totally slushy mushy mush!