All Previous Disclaimers Apply

A/N: Came back to re-write part of this. I didn't like how it ended. There's nothing hugely majorly different about it. Logan is OOC, Steve is OOC, but that's kind of been the case through-out this story. It's mostly exposition right now. Action to come. This feels more in tune with the tone already established by previous chapters. No funky POV change at the end. My Charles Xavier is based mostly on the sassy McAvoy version. Just older. I hope this is a little bit better.

When Logan woke he was alone in the bed and for one almost endless moment as he reached out for a body that was no longer sharing the space with him he felt a terrible black depression roll over him, certain that the day before had been a dream. He'd had dreams before that had felt so real he wasn't certain upon waking which had been the dream and which had been reality, but they'd never broken his heart the way this one was certain to. He could still feel all of the memories, still knew what Steve meant to him, how he felt about him, but if Steve wasn't actually with him…Those few seconds were the longest and blackest of his whole long life, then his nose caught up with his mind and gave him a wealth of information and relief when he caught Steve's scent surrounding him, on the sheets, the pillows, even on his own skin. He let the relief wash over him for a moment before he took a deeper breath and his senses told him his lover was on the small balcony off of his room. A smile spread across his face unbidden and he rolled over onto his side, propping up his head on his hand, elbow on a pillow, before he opened his eyes to the slightly overcast day and the vision that was Steve Rogers meditating in his boxer-briefs in the weak morning light. His eyes were closed though Logan knew that his senses were almost as refined as his own and if he was still hyperaware like he was during the war he already knew that Logan was awake. He continued his meditation as Logan got up, stretched, feeling pleasantly used as he hadn't for years, even if he knew it was just in his mind. His healing factor took away all physical reminders of a pleasant night of passion, but it couldn't take away the contented, at peace feeling that spread from his mind that helped him feel loose and relaxed. He pulled on a pair of boxers and made his way across the room.

Logan smiled at just how correct he was about Steve's senses when Steve didn't even flinch as he sat behind him, spread his legs on either side of his body so that he could rest his chest against Steve's back and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his neck. Steve moaned and let himself be pulled more fully into Logan's embrace, lifting his hands to hold onto one of the arms wrapped around him. For a few long minutes they enjoyed the silence and the simple sensation of being together. Logan breathed Steve in and with every breath he felt himself calm and center in a way he hadn't been able to do for years. He could tell that Steve felt the same from feeling his pulse spike for a moment, then settle and nearly match Logan's own as their breathing synchronized. Logan pressed another kiss to Steve's skin and smiled against it when he moaned from the back of his throat.

"Could get used to waking up to this." Logan whispered against his neck.

"You'd better," Steve whispered in return, "I intend for it to be this way for a good, long while."

"No arguments here, bub," Logan assured him, then pulled back and allowed Steve to lean back and slip out of his straight-backed meditation pose completely. Steve sighed heavily, contentedly, and lifted one of his hands from where it was gripping Logan's arm around his chest to reach back to thread his fingers through Logan's thick hair. Logan moaned as Steve's fingers massaged lightly before gripping the short hairs at the nape of his neck and forcing his head down to press their lips together in an intimate, deep kiss like the ones they used to share after battles when they were affirming that they were alive, whole and together.

"When did you get so pushy?" Logan grinned down at Steve when they broke the kiss.

"Missed you too much not to be," Steve grinned back, "Want to kiss you all the time. Want your hands on me. Just want you."

Logan moaned and kissed Steve again as his lover moved his hand to interlace their fingers and direct them down his chest, across his stomach and then lower. Just before their hands reached the destination they were both eager for Steve's stomach let out a loud growl of hunger that had them both laughing until they cried.

"Didn't eat much last night," Steve admitted, "Was too excited to be with you again."

"You need about three times the amount of calories of anyone else I know, you know that?" Logan got to his feet and held out a hand to Steve, "Come on. Better get going if you actually want to get some food around here. Some of the teenagers eat almost as much as you."

"We could make breakfast," Steve suggested, almost shy, as he ran a hand through his hair, too short anymore to really be mussed by a night of sleep, "Like we used to for The Commandos."

"What? And make 'em think we'll do it every day?" Logan raised an eyebrow as he reached for a cigar and lit it. Steve wrinkled his nose and it came back to Logan how much the smoke bothered him, a reminder of the days when the slightest wisp of smoke could lead to an asthma attack so severe that he'd be blue-lipped and gasping in minutes. He put it out in the ashtray and turned to his dresser to pull out some clothes.

"We could do it every day." Steve said, his tone letting Logan know it was only half joking.

"Boyscout," Logan growled as he threw a t-shirt at Steve's face.

Steve stuck out his tongue before he pulled the shirt over his head and reached into his saddlebag for a pair of khakis. When he pulled them out to find that they were ridiculously wrinkled he had to take a breath. He'd been hard pressed to find slacks that had the kind of darted pleats he'd been used to before the ice. Now they just seemed out of date. He turned to Logan, confusion in his eyes, and couldn't help the quirk that pulled up the corner of his lips into a reluctant smile to see Logan holding out a pair of well-worn jeans. He took them and made a show of unfolding them, working up his nerve to actually put them on. He wanted to move on. He no longer wanted to exist only in the past. James was here in the present, but it was hard to think of how much he had to let go of to allow himself to move on. In many ways letting go of his clothing was like leaving behind everything that he'd struggled to keep intact for so long.

"Take your time, sweetheart." Suddenly James was beside him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and setting the other hand to his belly, "Breathe from here, yeah? Try to slow it down a little."

It took Steve a moment to realize that he'd been on the verge of hyperventilating. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a breath low enough that he felt it make Logan's hand rise on his stomach. He did it again and again until the panic subsided and he was matching Logan breath for breath.

"S'kind of ridiculous to get so worked up over pants," He murmured after a time.

"Hey," Logan moved so that he was standing in front of Steve and cupped his face in his hands, "Give yourself a break, huh? Jesus Christ, Steve, I've never seen anyone as in control all the time as you are, except for maybe 'Roro. You need to know it's okay to express whatever you're feeling. I ain't never going to judge you for that."

"I love you, James." Steve sighed, closing his eyes as Logan pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you, too, Steve. Now let's get you some food before you fall over."

"Sounds good."

Logan couldn't help how often he got distracted as they cooked breakfast side by side. It was like they'd never been apart. They moved around each other as if they sensed each other. It's wasn't like he was so on edge that he was constantly aware of where Steve was, but he didn't have to ask to know where he'd be next or what he needed from one moment to the next as he took over what needed actual cooking on the stove and left things like toast to Logan. It's what'd been missing, Logan realized, through all the years and all of the relationships that never felt quite right. The easy camaraderie, the knowing another soul as well as you knew your own. Maybe, even when his mind couldn't remember his great love…his heart maybe…remembered Steve and helped him in his seemingly never ending quest to self-destruct every relationship before it began. Something in him knew it was Steve and only Steve. So he let himself feel it all as he hadn't for years, the wonder, the ease and the love as they cooked and Steve didn't seem to mind the frequent interruptions for kisses any. And before Logan knew it a meal for fifty was prepared and in warming dishes and Steve was pouring himself another cup of coffee and leaning against the counter with a satisfied sigh as he surveyed all they'd done.

"When the hell'd you learn to cook for so many?" Logan asked, baffled, "And how the hell'd you do it so fast?"

"Ever cooked for an Asgardian after a battle?" Steve grinned. Logan growled at the grin and pulled Steve to him to kiss him again, "It feels good," he admitted after a moment, "To just cook. It's something I know is going to be of use to everyone. Make them strong and ready for the day. I haven't done much of it since I woke up. Always too much to do, but…I think I like cooking."

"I think I like that you're going to be able to find things you like to do just because you like to do them. Have you ever just taken the time to be Steve? I mean, since the war?"

"Even before the war there was my health and then the depression and…there was never enough time. I like art and I got away with it because I could draw little pictures for the papers and such, but I…For the first time I think I'm feeling…grateful that I didn't wake up till now. Now time and circumstance…maybe I can finally just be me."

Logan chuckled and set his forehead to Steve's before placing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.

"Still cute, but too early," Jubilee murmured as she pushed open the swinging door and made a beeline for the coffee, "Can't process it right now. Give me an hour. I'll squee later."

Steve laughed and turned out of Logan's arms to reach into the cabinet behind him, comfortable in the kitchen already, and pulled down a stack of plates to set nect to the warming dishes and plates that held all of the food he'd prepared. It wasn't long before most of the residents of the mansion found their way from their bedrooms and into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of fresh coffee and a home cooked meal. Unlike dinner breakfast was never a very formal affair. Some chose to take their spoils formal dining room to linger over a plate and some conversation. Some ignored the cooked breakfast completely and grabbed quick bars and toaster pastries from the cabinets before they vacated for workouts or whatever else they'd already planned. There was a trip to the beach planned by a number of the teenagers, if Logan remembered correctly. They and the adult chaperones would probably be leaving within the hour, but getting that many kids ready to go was always an exercise in patience with chaos. No wonder they didn't have time to sit and eat. Quite a few more than either other option grabbed plates and stood around talking as they ate standing, letting themselves wake up slowly as they laughed quietly and helped the younger ones get plates of their own.

Steve was getting more comfortable, Logan noticed. The younger kids gathered around him, hero-worship in their eyes, but Steve didn't even flinch when they asked about his time with the Avengers and his shield and if they could see it. Logan knew just how heavy a burden leadership of the Avengers and the weight of the shield and title had become from their conversation the night before. There was so much about him that seemed…fragile in a way now. He realized that he'd never really known him. He'd known The Captain, followed him into battle too many times to count. But, even when it was just the two of them The Captain never really went away. He couldn't with a war on. He was going to have to remember that Steve was still a young man and when he finally fully came into his own he and Steve might not mesh together as they once had. But, their relationship was important to him. They'd both work on it and allow themselves to grow and if there ever came a time when they realized they were just too different, Logan would not allow himself to be bitter. Steve had always been and would always be, one of the best things in his life and he was glad to see him look…lighter than he had in all of the years Logan had known him as he answered their questions as diplomatically as possible. Steve was better, more patient, with them than Logan had ever been able to be.

"You're stronger than he is, you know." The voice in his ear startled him for a moment. He'd been so caught up observing Steve he hadn't even noticed Jean behind him, but now that he did he wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with how close she was, mouth at his ear, practically pressed against his back.

"You spent 70 years without him. He barely lasted three before he fell apart."

Logan shrugged uncomfortably, but didn't turn around to face her, "I forced myself to forget him so I wouldn't fall apart, too. And that happened days after I thought he died. I'd say he's probably the stronger out of the two of us."

"Don't sell yourself short," Jean brushed his ear with her mouth and Logan was certain he hadn't imagined it when she pressed her breasts to his back firmly before she moved to the coffee machine but, he shook the thoughts out of his head. She probably didn't even realize she'd done it. As weird as she'd been since Steve had come and as long and tumultuous as their history was he didn't think that she'd ever intentionally do anything that would interfere with his relationship with Steve or hers with Scott. Things could be better now between them. His attraction was what caused so much strife. Now that he had Steve again his attraction to her wasn't exactly gone. She was still a beautiful, intelligent woman, but everything else paled in comparison with what he felt for Steve. And he had a feeling it always would because even if the worst came to pass Logan knew that now that the Prof knew what all was in his head he wouldn't ever let him forget. Even if he wanted to.

But that is not a worry now, Logan, Chuck's voice in his head was less of a surprise than Jean behind him, Allowing yourself to dwell on such thoughts is enough to drive any man mad. You have him again. Take joy in the fact and do not think on a future that may never come to pass.

Still projecting? Logan knew his mental voice was as chagrinned as he was feeling.

Not nearly as loudly as before, Charles assured him, It is not a burden to keep your thoughts from the others until you strengthen your shields. When you and Steven have finished your breakfast would you mind joining me in my study?

Sure, Chuck. Why didn't you just ask Steve yourself?

As I have come to understand it, Steven's only experience with telepaths since his awakening has not been exactly pleasant. I didn't want to distress him.

Logan felt his lips quirk in a small smile. It was kind of funny how Chuck didn't think twice about reading Logan's thoughts and communicating with him telepathically, but was hesitant to do the same with Steve. He slipped up to the counter behind Steve where he now stood hand washing the dishes resulting from preparing the food. He set his hands to Steve's hips and placed a chaste kiss to the back of his neck before wrapping his arms around him and setting his chin to Steve's shoulder. Steve stopped scrubbing and leaned back in Logan's embrace, sighing happily. Logan knew just how soppy they were being and how in normal circumstances both of them would have been embarrassed by themselves, but there were only so many miracles allowed in a life. They'd both used up any that had been allotted to them. He knew they could both feel it. Steve surviving long enough to be found again and being united again. Two miracles if ever he saw them and he'd seen few in all his long years. He didn't care how soppy it was. He was going to be as loving and in as much physical contact with Steve as he wanted to be until he stopped expecting to wake from a dream.

"Haven't gotten used to dishwashers yet." Steve admitted quietly after a moment. Logan hummed and pressed another kiss to the side of his neck.

"When you're done, Prof wants to speak with us."

"Best not to keep him waiting, then." Ororo's smooth voice brought them both out of their trance. They turned as one to see her smiling at them gently, Remy just behind her, not quite smiling but much more relaxed than he'd been the night before, "We can take over. You did cook. It is only fair."

"Thank you, Ororo," Steve wiped his hand dry on a cloth. He hesitated as he was handing the cloth over to her and Logan had to stop himself from doing the same when he watched Remy tense.

"Problem, mon ami?" he asked.

"No, no problem," Steve assured, he took a deep breath and blew it back out, "I just…If you don't mind, Ororo, I'd like to help in your gardens. I don't know much about helping things grow, but I'd like to try my hand at it."

"Anytime, my friend," Ororo's voice was pleasantly surprised and very warm, "I would welcome the company. There are few here who have the patience for gardening. I am in my gardens most afternoons after my classes have let out."

"Thank you." The relief in Steve's voice was palpable and for a moment Logan saw the boy from Brooklyn still not used to the twice as big body and scared of the power given him by the military that he'd first gotten to know. Under all the command, all of the strength, was just Steve. Steve who didn't back down from a fight and still didn't understand what it was Dr. Erskine saw in him that made him decide to make him the subject of hi experiment. And Steve didn't have many friends, didn't know how to make them. He drew people to him, but reaching out was hard for him. Him reaching out to Ororo was a big step for him and Ororo reaching right back...Logan gripped her hand for a moment in thanks as they stepped by on their way out. She smiled at him from under her lashes and winked. A perceptive woman, was Ororo. Logan couldn't wipe the grin off of his face as he and Steve made their way to the professor's office, hand in hand.

"Please come in, gentlemen," The professor's voice automatically put Steve on alert, Logan could tell by the way he straightened, then stood almost at parade rest in from of the professor's desk.

"Good lord," The professor startled slightly when he looked up from his book, "I'm not about to give you orders, Steven. I'm about to offer you a job."

"A job?" Steve was surprised enough to fall out of form.

"Yes," The professor smiled and motioned for them to sit, "A job. We are not just the X-Men here, Steven. We also run a school. Not all of the children will become X-Men. Not all of them should have to and it is our job to prepare them as best we can for whatever path they choose in life. With your…unique perspective on history…the era of your birth and then having to learn all of the time between once you awoke…I can think of no one else better suited to teach the children their history lessons. Our current teacher does not find it very enjoyable." The professor glanced over at Logan with a raised eyebrow.

"You?" Steve turned to Logan and tried to cover his gasping laugh with his hand.

"I ain't that bad," Logan moaned, "Thanks, Chuck."

"Logan, my great affection for you personally and all of your many experiences through the years you are meant to teach not withstanding, you are a terrible teacher. I do believe Steven's personality and his patience will be much better suited to teaching and you need no longer suffer or make the children suffer your…classes."

"I think I've just been insulted," Logan leaned against the wall and nodded to Steve to take a seat. He couldn't help but grin at the way Steve was still trying to cover up snorting giggles with his hand.

"And I was trying to be so subtle about it," The professor dead-panned and sent Steve into a round of full, deep belly laughs that had his knees weak and forced him to take the seat Logan had suggested.

"I was hoping to learn how to help things grow," Steve said after a moment, when he'd calmed himself enough to speak, "Gardens and kids. Seems like a good match. I'd be happy to teach, Professor Xavier."

"Charles, please," the professor responded warmly, "I am happy to hear it. These are the books we've been using. If there are others you'd like to add to the curriculum you are more than welcome to do so. There are certain topics the state requires are covered so that the children do well on the required tests, but we don't like to focus on just the stories in the typical history books. We try to be more comprehensive in our views of the past…"

Logan watched silently as the professor went over the class expectations with Steve and couldn't help the contented smile on his face at Steve's concentration. Whatever his love did, Logan had to admit, he threw himself into it wholeheartedly. He was glad to see Steve was finding things already that were going to allow him to become the kind of man he'd always wanted to be. And maybe, he'd finally see what everyone else saw when they looked at him. Realizing Steve and the prof were probably going to be talking for a while Logan quietly excused himself from the office. Maybe he could hunt Beast up for a danger room session. Now that he knew he wasn't going to have to teach anymore he was feeling a surge of happy energy he wanted to get out. Tearing apart some holograms would be just the thing.