It was a surprise, that was the point of the inspection, and Logan could understand the anger that seemed thinly veiled in Reaver's voice. There had been complaints about the work environment in Reaver's factories; both verbal and written complaints had been filed multiple times. Logan had originally chosen to ignore them, wishing only to focus on the coming war. Walter, the ever present voice of reason, suggested he check it out. It may be nothing but if there was a problem it should be solved and quickly.
Much to Logan relief there appeared to be no obvious problems. He made a mental note that he would have to hire some people to do this the next time a complaint was issued. The one thing that Logan had noticed, though, was the feeling in the air. Things almost felt charged as he walked past the workers. He could feel their eyes on him and heard whispers behind his back. Try as he might he could never hear the words. The sensation that was rising in his stomach, though, was all too familiar.
Logan caught movement out of the corner of his eye and by the time he turned it was nearly too late. One of the workers had launched himself over the conveyer belt that had separated them, his dirty hand held high. Logan noticed something in that hand glisten and realized what it was. His guards weren't fast enough and for all his worth, Logan couldn't get himself to move. Fear and the need to survive screamed in his mind, yet a small part of him welcomed the chance to have some relief.
The sound of a gunshot rang through the factory and the man let out scream. The guards that had seemed too slow to act pulled Logan out of the way as the worker fell to the ground, knife clattering to the ground. Logan stared down at his attacker and noticed the blood soaking into the man's shirt.
"Well, that was unfortunate." Reaver came to a stop beside Logan, a slightly annoyed look on his face as he holstered his pistol. "I was beginning to think he was one of my better employees."
Logan seized Reaver by the collar of his jacket, catching the man by surprise. "I wish to speak with you in your office." He didn't wait for a response and by the look on Reaver's face he knew he didn't have to. The business man quickly led Logan towards his office, neither one saying a word as the anger seemed come off Logan in waves. Logan glanced at his guards, "See to it that no one interrupts us."
Reaver leaned against his desk, placing his cane beside him as he watched Logan. He waited for the door to close and waited still for the anger on the King's face to be voiced. Yet there was nothing. "Is something wrong, your majesty?"
"Don't patronize me," Logan spat. "Tell me, Reaver, why are you employing people who obviously want me dead?"
"I assure you I didn't know the man's political standing when he was placed at a machine," Reaver replied with a slight frown. "And is this any way to thank me for saving your life?"
Logan closed the gap between the two, seizing the man and noting that this time Reaver did not flinch. "The only reason you keep me alive is for your own financial benefit. If I had any inkling of your ways before I would have never made this deal with you."
"Such harsh words," Reaver said with a slight pout. "For your information I saved you because, not only are you King of Albion, but I like you."
It was a mixture of the wounded tone in Reaver's voice and the expression on his face that caught Logan off guard. For the first time he had no doubt there was genuine feeling behind those words. He let go of the man and took a step back, "You never cease to amaze me."
The pout on Reaver's face turned into a soft smile, "Let's keep that record going, shall we? There are a few other things that I could show you, if you'd like." He reached out and caressed Logan's cheek, his thumb running over the scar on the man's lips. "You already saw to it that no one will interfere. We could continue what was started at that gala of yours."
Logan turned his head, ceasing the affection and calming himself. He locked eyes with Reaver, "Would you be partial to having dinner at the palace?"
"Of course not," Reaver replied with a grin. "I take it that your sister wants my company?"
"No; I do."
/ / / / / /
Whether or not Tara remembered what had happened during the gala, or realized that it was Reaver with Logan, she didn't seem to show it. The surprise of Reaver arriving was written on her face and she soon became animated once more. It brought joy into Logan's life to hear Tara laugh once more, seeing how she was starting to be rather cautious around him. His temper was growing shorter and shorter, and the worry of losing Albion was taking its effects in obvious ways.
Much to Logan's dismay Reaver recounted what had happened in his factory. What was originally a threat on Logan's life quickly became a tale of how Reaver seemed to save the day. Tara thanked him; she couldn't live without her brother. She took the story as the reason for Reaver's surprising arrival. Anyone that saved the King's life was to be thanked properly.
Before long Tara excused herself and retreated to her room. Logan eyed Reaver; it wasn't long before he suggested they find somewhere else to talk. A knowing smile passed over the business man's lips. As he followed Logan, Reaver grabbed the unopened bottle of wine and the untouched glasses. He had a hunch where things were going but, if all else failed they could have a few drinks to pass the time.
Reaver followed Logan through the castle's halls, both silent and seeming to ignore the guards saluting and the hired help bowing as they passed. He had expected to be taken to the war room but Reaver soon found himself standing in a bedroom. With a smile on his face he turned and watched Logan close the door behind them.
"Wipe that grin off your face," Logan snapped.
"Oh come now," Reaver chuckled. "Not only did you say that you were the one that wanted my company, but you lead me to your room. How am I supposed to take this?"
Logan pursed his lips before brushing past the business man, "I would suggest you not get your hopes up, Reaver. The invitation was only to talk."
Reaver laughed; Logan was a horrible liar. He moved to the small table that sat before the unused hearth and placed the bottle of wine and its accompanying glasses on it. "Those other times started out with us 'only talking.' Why deny the reasons any longer?"
There was no denying the truth in that statement. Logan let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Something like this isn't easy for me."
"I wouldn't expect it to be any other way," Reaver smiled. "Why don't we have a drink, just to ease this tension?"
Logan waited for Reaver to open the bottle of wine before slowly walking towards him. The smile was still on the man's face, his eyes turning to watch him rather than pay attention to the wine he was pouring. He felt like he had followed the lead which Reaver had set out but it didn't seem to matter at that moment. Reaver had sounded genuine when he said he cared for him, and that is what Logan focused on.
"Here you are." Reaver handed a glass to Logan before taking his own.
The thought of drinking didn't please Logan. He watched Reaver tip back his own glass and starred at his own. Logan did nothing more than wet his lips, masking the fact by turning away and putting his glass down. No amount of drinking would be able to calm his nerves by this point.
A soft chuckle caught Logan's attention and he turned back to Reaver. "What?"
"Just wondering if this is how you would treat a woman," Reaver laughed. "You give no conversation, no compliments, nothing."
"Here I thought you wouldn't need such things to be in the proper mood," Logan countered.
Reaver set his glass down and slowly approached Logan. "Too true," he replied. "I suppose these things could be ignored."
Logan's breath caught in his throat as Reaver reached up and caressed his cheek, his thumb once more trailing over his lips. His kneejerk response was to pull away but he stopped himself; he had brought this on himself. The apprehension that was welling inside him seemed to ease as Logan noticed the soft smile on Reaver's face and an almost tender look in the man's eye. This was not the man he had seen so many times before.
Logan tasted the wine on Reaver's lips as they kissed, savoring it as he welcomed the man's tongue into his mouth. He could feel Reaver's arm slip around his waist, bringing their bodies together as his other hand rested on the nape of his neck to dissuade any notion of pulling away. Logan draped his arms over the man's shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair.
Reaver trailed the kisses away from Logan's gasping mouth until he found the tender flesh of the man's neck. He could feel Logan's body tense and heard the hiss of a sudden breath as he ran his tongue across an obviously sensitive area. Those feather kisses continued, teeth scraping ever so softly over that same tender flesh. Reaver suddenly nipped at the flesh where the shoulder met the neck, albeit harder than he had intended due the man's shirt. Logan let out a pleasure filled cry, his hold on Reaver's hair tightening until a moan escaped from the man as well.
As Reaver pulled away Logan spotted the smile playing on the man's face. He released his grip on Reaver's hair and rubbed the area where he was bitten. There was a dull pain emanating from the spot. "If I didn't know better I think you intended to leave a bruise."
"My apologies," Reaver chuckled as he moved towards Logan's bed, "but with me, someone always leaves with 'battle scars'."
"And I take it that someone is going to be me?"
Another soft laugh escaped Reaver, one hand reaching up to rub the area where Logan's grip had tightened. "I'm not too sure this time." He stared at the bed, a smile tugging at his lips; more than enough room for two bodies. "Come, I think its due time we got a little more comfortable."
Logan watched as Reaver removed his vest, letting it fall to the floor before he slipped his shirt off. He glanced at the King and smiled once more. Logan could feel himself blush as he drew closer to his companion. Reaver seemed to notice the nervous movements and cautious glances.
"Nervous?" Reaver said softly.
"You don't have to make this any more difficult," Logan replied. He had never seen Reaver do anything more than strut around and proclaim superiority over those he met, but he noticed that he was in shape. The man did something to keep himself in perfect physical condition and Logan didn't know if he wanted to hear the answer to such a question.
"Shall I help you?"
Logan had no time to respond before Reaver's hands were slowly unbuttoning his shirt, tugging at it slightly to pull the ends free. Those fingers ran over his chest and down his arms until the garment fell to the floor. A shudder ran through Logan's body as he felt those fingers trail across his muscles, outlining the scars that harbored so many memories. Reaver caressed him, wrapping his arm around Logan's waist as his free hand continued to explore the naked flesh.
"Seems like I did bite rather hard," Reaver mused, his fingers grazing over the reddening spot. "I'll make sure these things are easily covered up."
Reaver pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes half-lidded as he stared at Logan who shifted nervously under that very stare. Running his tongue over his lower lip as Reaver held out his hand and pulled Albion's King on to his lap. The raven-haired King straddled him, pressing his lips against Reaver's as it became apparent that he wanted this to happen. They were going beyond the point of stopping. Both were feeling the heat of the moment and their bodies were already reacting on their own.
Logan let himself be lowered to the bed, enjoying the weight of Reaver's body over him. He didn't fight against Reaver as the man took hold of his wrists and pinned his hands over his head. Those lips moved away from his own and Logan tipped his head, exposing his neck. His breathing hitched as he felt Reaver's tongue and teeth against his skin, softer this time but enough to draw a whimper from Logan. He found himself wanting to touch the other man and as he strained against Reaver's hands he felt them tighten slowly.
Again those lips began to wander and Reaver's hold on Logan's wrists finally left. Kisses were trailed away from his neck, lips brushing against his jaw as those fingers once more explored the scar riddled chest. Logan arched his back, his heart racing as Reaver's head dipped lower. He tangled his fingers in the man's hair and resisted the urge to pull his lips back to his own. No; Reaver knew what he was doing and what it was doing to Logan in return.
"Don't stop," Logan breathed.
That was all Reaver needed to hear.