AUTHOR'S NOTE: For some reason the first half of this chapter didn't get uploaded. I just noticed tonight as I was re-reading it. That really sucks because I worked hard on the first half. Anyway, maybe it will seem a bit more complete with that. Not sure what happened. Grrr.

"How is she?" asked Hank as Logan came into the room. He had finally been doing work he'd been putting off for ages. Still, he welcomed the interruption. He could tell by Logan's face that it had gone well.

"She'll be fine. That is one strong kid." He seemed to be bragging as if he was a father. There were many times that Hank had seen that kind of paternal side of Logan when he spoke about Rogue. It made him proud of Logan, to see him taking that kind of interest in another person.

"Well," Hank clapped his hands together. "I had a thought."

"Holy crap! We'll have to write this day down on the calendar," Logan joked.

"Would you like to see where I became your pool superior?" He chose to ignore the lame insult and hoist one of his own.

"I've seen the library before. I was there remember?"

It had crossed his mind in the past, sharing his hangout spot with Logan. He was a little surprised that Logan hadn't bumped into him there, since it was so close to the school. With how often they talked and laughed with each other, Hank suspected that letting him in on the secret might just make it more fun.

"Go get your coat pup," he goaded. "We're going out."

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"The Barracuda Bar and Lounge," read Logan. "Aren't you a little fuzzy to be a lounge lizard?"

"I believe you were looking for barfly and you'd think so, but there are some nice gents here." Hank felt a little nervous about letting someone in on this aspect of his world. He would never have brought Ororo here, even though she knew that he went. She was way too classy of a woman to bring to a dive like this, but nothing about Wolverine yelled class.

He pulled open the familiar door. The jukebox was loud inside as the door swung open. Hank pushed back the hood on his sweater, feeling okay revealing his mutant self to the Barracuda's patrons. If they hadn't seen him before, they'd get accustomed to the sight soon enough; all the regulars had before.

"Hank!" yelled a male voice from behind the bar. Actually, this bar was filled with almost all male voices. Only a few women came here, because it was just that type of place, though the owner was a woman.

"Hello Tommy." The bartender passed him a beer. "I'll need another of those."

Tommy's face filled with artificial sympathy. "Bad day?" he asked, fetching another bottle and popping the top.

"I brought a new customer to Connie's fine establishment." Hank gestured to Logan standing behind him. Logan nodded curtly at the bartender and then reached for the beer that had been opened for him.

"Ha! That's a good one Hank. You should mention that fine establishment thing when she's around." Tommy was laughing and smiling. He was a young man in his mid-twenties. He didn't have enough brains to go very far in life, but he was a good enough bartender. "How many quarters?"

Hank laid down a ten dollar bill. "I will take a roll tonight. I have finally found some competition."

Hank felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Chris, already drunk, but cheerful enough. "Whatever, I'm on a lucky streak tonight!"

Chris was a middle-aged alcoholic. He spent more time at the bar than Hank ever did, but he had a family waiting for him at home. Hank felt pity for him most of the time, but he also appreciated Chris's company. Chris never treated him differently for his blue fur and ungainly stature.

"This is my friend Logan," he gestured. Again Logan did that minor nod. He was a bit thrown off by the situation. He never suspected this double life of Hank. Seeing that the bartender knew his name and favorite beer, Hank must be a regular. It was kind of unbelievable. While he was surprised, he also found himself a bit amused. Maybe Hank wasn't as boring as he had believed.

"Holy shit! You brought a friend? Well, hey, I'm Chris. I um… I live here." Chris burst into drunken laughter after a brief little wave. He leaned on Hank a little more. "No, man, that's great. I had no idea that you had friends."

Hank tried not to take that in the way in which it was meant. He smiled a little. "How could I want for more friends with you guys here?" He said.

The sarcasm of the comment was lost on poor drunken Chris. "Aw, that's so nice!" he cooed, his face and breath way too close to Hank's face.

"Well, we call next game," said Hank, making a very exaggerated hand gesture to knock Chris off.

Chris smiled. "You betchya buddy!" he yelled out and walked back to one of the two tables. They were using the table that Hank thought of as his. Since the other was unoccupied, there was no reason not to ask to use that one.

"Hey buddy!" exclaimed Logan as he clapped a hand on Hank's shoulder in mockery of the scene he'd just witnessed. "Why the hell do you come here?"

Hank laughed. "Don't you ever want to get outside yourself?" He didn't care to elaborate more than that, just made his way to the jukebox. They might have to wait a while for the table to clear and it'd be a good idea to have good music to pass the time with. Also, Hank was a little embarrassed about speaking his emotions so openly.

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The two played again, but this time it was non-competitive. They cheered each others' good shots and talked. It was such an amicable way to pass the time. Eventually some of the bar occupants challenged them to doubles. They mopped up the room, in a metaphorical sense, though it could have used it literally.

"Well Fuzzy, I think you actually play better when you're blitzed." Logan was feeling a bit fuzzy himself from the combination of beer and lack of sleep. The clock above the jukebox was evidence of how fast time was moving in the little bar. "Say, you think it's time to call it an evening?"

Hank glanced at the clock and then looked back at it. It couldn't be nearly midnight already could it? He replaced the bar's pool cue on the wall rack. "My… I hadn't noticed the time."

"Yeah, almost like you got eight hours of sleep," growled Logan, following Hank's lead and putting away his cue.

"Oh, so that explains it; you've missed out on your beauty rest."

Hank took time to say his goodbyes to Tommy, Chris, and some of the other gents that he'd come to think of in a vein similar to friends. Then he and Logan were off into the night. They'd walked to the bar, something that Hank was in the habit of doing, so they had a pleasantly drunk stroll back to the school.

"So, how was being my slave?"

"I believe that I'm still your slave for the next seven hours," offered Logan. He was buzzing a bit from the alcohol he'd consumed, but his healing powers would have that shrugged off by the time that they got back.

"I'm not sure I have much else that needs doing."

"Well, you never did ask me for any sexual favors." Logan smiled in the dark. He was thinking back the pool game when he'd boasted about being able to bed the Beast anytime he wanted to. He hadn't missed the look on Kurt's face and it still made him want to laugh.

"I would think you'd appreciate that." Hank was leading the path back and he took the slightly longer way. It was a nice evening and he was a bit reluctant to let it end. "Unless you were wanting an excuse – like getting drunk."

"I don't need to drink to do what I want."

Hank nodded. "You're right. You don't strike me as the kind that would rely on intoxication to free his inhibitions." Honestly Logan didn't even seem drunk. It suddenly hit Hank why that was. He hadn't even considered Logan's healing powers. "You also don't seem the type to dabble in 'the love that dare not speak its name.'"

Logan found the expression amusing as hell, always had. There was a lot he didn't remember about his own past, but he was pretty sure that Hank was correct in his assessment. From what he could recall, he'd never had so much as a gay dream, let alone an experience. He had always been attracted to women, but he certainly found nothing wrong with men who weren't. He certainly was not a homophobe or else he wouldn't verbally play with Hank in the insinuative way that he did.

"You think too much McCoy! Don't you ever just do what you want to do, fuck who you want?"

Hank sighed before answering. "That's not my style. I lack your impulsiveness. Besides, I don't know; I am lonely and extremely hard-up, but I don't know that I actually want to… have sex with you. Not that I find anything wrong with…"

"Bullshit. You're just in your head too much. You overanalyze fucking everything. You never just go with things."

Now Hank was feeling a tad attacked. Unlike Logan, he was still drunk. "And you have a problem with finishing things. You never follow through on any of these wild ideas you have."

"Well…"

"Yeah?" asked Hank, waiting for the fight to be on.

"Fuck you fuzzball," said Logan without any malice.

The two walked in silence a bit, seeing the mansion ahead of them. Both contemplated what the other has said. Hank was the first to speak. "You may be correct about me. Ororo may have mentioned something similar once or twice, that I may be lacking spontaneity."

"Well, I ain't saying you're right. I can finish shit."

"Oh yes, you really see things through. How many times have left the school now, found out about your origins? How…"

"Okay, wait. This is getting too brutal Furry. You're gonna mention Jeannie and then I'll have to hit you and I don't want to do that." Logan stuck out a hand in a gesture for Hank to stop. Hank nodded in understanding. They were always careful in their banter not to cross lines. It was harder for him to see the line when he was drunk, but he still got it.

They were at the school now, walking up the winding driveway. Spontaneously, Logan picked up on their earlier conversation. "I haven't, you know, done it with a guy. Like you said, the love not speaking its name thing, never…"

"Neither have I," Hank agreed. Then he laughed. "Though I think there might be some surprised to hear that. I have never understood the connection between being homosexual and being intellectual."

Logan considered his next words carefully. "If I did though, I don't think it'd be so bad with you."

They had arrived at the front door to the mansion and Hank looked at Logan startled. He tried to evaluate his friend's face. Was Logan being serious or just teasing? Hank decided that it was teasing. He smiled as he used his key on the lock. "Well, we still have about seven hours of your servitude…"

Logan's face was priceless. He looked simultaneously shocked and uncomfortable. Hank broke into a blue grin.

"Oh man, you almost had me going there," said Logan with obvious relief.

Hank swallowed down a bit of hurt with how relieved Logan sounded. Was it really such a horrible thought? Perhaps it was the alcohol making Hank feel disappointed, but he suspected it wasn't. "Go ahead and head to sleep Wolverine. I release you from the remainder of your slave contract." He opened the door and went inside. Logan followed in behind him.

The entrance to the school was impressive and pristine as always, though lit only by moonlight. Logan could feel that there had been a shift in Hank's mood but he couldn't identify its form or cause. His friend looked pensive; it must be the alcohol, he finally concluded.

"This was a pretty fun time. Thanks for showing me your haunt," whispered Logan. "We'll have to show them how pool is played again."

Hank nodded. They both trudged up the stairs, both feeling suddenly incredibly sleepy. They walked until they came to Logan's door.

"Hey, my dates don't usually walk me to my door," joked Logan.

"You're not dating the right gentlemen then," said Hank with a grin. "Don't even think of asking me in for a nightcap."

They were facing each other and their postures said volumes about the ease they felt around each other. Logan was leaning back on his door frame a bit with his arms crossed loosely. Hank, less than a foot away from his friend, was stretching his arms out in a great yawn.

"Hey, you can't give me orders anymore fuzzface." Logan poked him in the chest. "I'm no longer your slave." Hank tilted his head a bit in acknowledgement of that. "So, anything else I choose to do with my evening is my own doing."

Hank was thinking about how sleeping wasn't exactly a bold independent action and was about to say so, when Logan did the most curious thing. Logan kissed him. There was a split second when he was swooping in that Hank could have dodged; they were both trained fighters after all. It was too surprising of a thing to conceive of though and he didn't move. He trusted Logan enough to allow that intrusion into his personal space.

Logan's facial hair was not soft as his own was. He felt the scratch of Logan's chin before he felt his lips. Logan smelled of beer and musk. His lips were hard against Hank and his mouth was already opened. The words shock and astonishment were not strong enough to capture how truly surprised Hank was by this kiss. There was a tongue in his mouth that belonged not only to a male, but it was Logan's.

For his part, Logan had no freaking idea what he was doing. He knew that Hank was down (most likely due to alcohol consumption) and lonely and that there was a certain odd chemistry between them. He tended not to over-think his urges and so when he'd felt it, he seized it. He was understandably a bit nervous at the lack of response from Hank, since he was thinking this might just end up with him in a great deal of physical pain.

His trepidation didn't last long, however, for Hank started to kiss back. It was heated, warm, and a bit painful. Their lips mashed together tightly and Logan's plundering tongue was met by Hank's own. His hand started to touch Hank's face and then drew back upon finding the fur to be too disconcerting of a feeling. Kissing a man was so different.

Hank had felt the touch on his face and it felt too tender for what this was. There was too much desperation in him for sweet caresses. Brazenly, he wrapped an arm around Logan and gripped at his back with clenched fingertips. When his nails sank in a bit, Logan hissed into his mouth. Hank thrilled to that reaction.

When Logan returned the sting with a bit to Hank's lip, he drew back a bit. Logan smiled at him. "Fair's fair, right?" he asked smartly.

Hank returned to Logan's lips. It was amazing how similar this was to their scrapping. They kissed for minutes, but what seemed longer. Finally, panting a bit, their kisses ebbed and they became more aware of their surroundings. The hallway was quiet. It was a section of the mansion reserved for the adults, so there was no fear of being discovered by a child up for a mid-night pee, but they were neither of them keen to be come upon by others.

They looked at each other, more energetic from their spontaneous makeout session. Hank was the first to laugh and then Logan joined him, quietly. "That was… odd, Wolverine."

"See what happens when you don't over think things?"

"Don't try and pass on your impetuousness to me Boy," scolded Hank. "Not all of us have your knack for healing from scrapes."

Logan grinned. He did not want to take this further, so he said, "I think I'll be heading to sleep. Someone had me up at dawn cleaning a laboratory."

Even though aroused, Hank was extremely relieved that Logan hadn't invited him to bed. He was pretty sure he wasn't ready to take that kind of step right now. "Sounds like a clever fellow. Well, goodnight Logan."

"'Night Hank," said Logan. He then went into his room, closing the door behind him.

Hank was left in the utter silence of the hallway with heart still racing. He raised a hand to his lips and felt their soreness. Then, he continued down the hallway to his own room and only glanced back once.