-scene-

"Honestly!" Warren exclaimed, though his anger was easily outed as a rouse by the grin that soon followed. "Closing the bar for a whole week without any prior notice?" he accused. "That's not very good business sense."

"Ah, who cares." Logan grinned, leaning on his elbow and watching the red-headed youth set a glass of water in front of the latest customer.

"Who knew?" Warren teased. "All it takes is a 'Oui Boss, shua ting'" He mocked in a very poor Cajun accent. "And you're on your knees, or is it the other way around?" he grinned.

"I already told ya," Logan replied, shaking his head. "It ain't like that."

"Oh of course it is." Warren replied shortly. "I know you better than that, Logan, and you're not the type to keep around house pets who won't do tricks."

Logan shot the man a look. "You think I got some reason to lie?" he asked in a steely voice.

"What?" Warren raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying it's a completely platonic, work appropriate relationship and you just happen to share these silly little lover's glances as well as the same bed?"

"Never said it was platonic." Logan replied gruffly.

Warren raised an accusing eyebrow.

"I kiss 'im, alright?" Logan snapped. "I kiss 'im an' I hold 'im an' I like ta have 'im sleep next to me. That a problem?"

Warren's other eyebrow decided to join the first one on his forehead in surprise. "Why Logan, I never knew you were the romantic type." He exclaimed.

"Neither did I." Logan grumped, turning away, and it was obvious the man was blushing.

"Why Logan!" Warren grinned. "Is that young Southern dandy taming our Wolverine?"

"Can it, Wings," he shot. "Unless ya want a mouth full o' metal."

"You wouldn't!" Warren drew his hand to his mouth in mock surprise. "In front of all these people?" he grinned. "In front of your little lover boy? You wouldn't want to scare him, you know…"

Logan shook his head. "He already knows about me." He replied.

Warren blinked. "He what?"

Logan gave him a meaningful look. "He's one of us, Warren.

"He's… Oh!" Warren's eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "You mean..? So what does he do?"

"He's an empath." Logan replied with a weary look.

"Logan, that's dangerous." Warren leaned in.

"That ain't the half of it." Logan replied, pulling up a barstool of his own. "Found out the hard way he's also a kinesthite."

Warren waited interestedly for an explanation. "And?" he prompted.

"Let's just say, when the kid has a nightmare, I'm lucky I don't lose more than furniture." He replied.

"Energy projection?" Warren asked.

Logan held up his hands in demonstration. "Why ya think he wears those gloves?"

Warren chanced a look back at the boy. He wore a pair of thin, black gloves. "That must certainly spice things up in the bedroom." He joked.

"I told ya, it ain't like that!" Logan growled.

"Well why not?" Warren pried. "If he already knows, then you've got nothing left to hide."

"It ain't about that." Logan replied, looking away. "It's just… y'no, I know he ain't, but he seems so… innocent. So fragile. It's like I'm afraid ta take things too fast. Don't want ta scare 'im off."

Warren bit his lower lip for a moment. "Logan, you know he's-"

"I know what he is!" Logan exclaimed. "But I can't help it anymore. I feel how I feel and ain't nothin' changin' that."

Warren glanced back to make sure the boy was a safe distance away. "Logan, what if he's just using you? You know… a house, free meals, protection…"

"I already thought about all that." Logan shook his head. "And I guess I just don't care. Wouldn't be the first time." He gave the man a telling look.

"Logan, you know Jean never meant to-"

"Didn't she?" he interrupted. "Don't they all, in the end? Ain't that what it's about? All anybody's out for is what somebody else can do for them anyhow. It ain't no different in relationships."

Warren paused. "Then what does he do for you?" he pressed.

"He makes me feel good." Logan replied un-haltingly. "I'm happy 'cause he's around, and that's good enough for me."

Warren sighed. "You really are a romantic." He replied, laying his head down on the bar. "You know, it's the romantic types that always get their hearts broken."

Logan nodded. "Better broken than empty."

Warren glanced up. He was surprised to be learning so much about Logan. He had come down out of curiosity, and maybe a little loneliness, but he was really starting to respect this man.

-scene-

That night, as Remy climbed the stairs, he couldn't help but feel a little thrill of excitement. He no longer slept in the closet, as Logan preferred having him by his side, where he could keep an eye on him, he'd said, but Remy knew it was more that that.

The Acadian had long known of his own persuasions, but he had never even dreamed that they would lead him to such happiness. Logan had given him more joy in one short week than anyone else had in an entire lifetime.

"Takin' yer time, Gumbo?" Logan drawled from the top of the stairs. He was wearing a pair of flannel sleeping pants, a teasing grin, and nothing in between.

Remy grinned back. "Why you in such a hurry?" he accused playfully. "Can' sleep wit'out yo' teddy beya?"

Logan snorted. "That what ya think you are?"

Remy shrugged demurely, feigning a lack of interest. "Don' know… ain't dat what Remy is?"

Upon reaching the top stair, he was swept up into masculine arms and held flush against Logan's warm chest.

"You want somethin' more than that?" Logan murmured into his neck.

Remy felt himself flush. "B- Boss…" he moaned slightly, giving in to the caresses. The man made him melt like shaved ice in a bayou summer. "peut-etre…" he muttered quietly.

In moments, they had made their way to the bedroom, both with baited breath. Remy swallowed thickly as Logan's hands explored his body in ways they had before been want to do. The older man's rough fingers caressed his sensitive skin while his other hand found purchase on the youth's firm bottom.

"Nn!" Remy yelped, but didn't protest. His breath caught in his throat as the t-shirt was slowly lifted from his body and he was pushed backwards onto the bed.

The frame creaked in protest as Logan slid his form between the boy's knees, leaning down to press their mouths together in a heated kiss, his hands working the buckle of Remy's belt, slowly drawing the faded jeans down his toned legs.

Remy could feel his adrenaline rising and his breath hitched in his chest, his heart beating a frantic tempo.

Logan moved his lips possessively to the boy's throat, nipping slightly.

Remy yelped, then groaned.

"Logan, cher…" the youth begged with baited breath. "Be gentle, S'il tu plait. Neva done not'in like dis befo…"

Logan chuckled. "It's okay Rem, ya' don't gotta act for me."

Remy's eyes opened in confusion. "Act?" he asked. "What choo mean Act?"

Logan returned the quizzical stare. "Remy, I love ya' for who you are." He explained. "I don't care about all that stuff.

The redhead propped himself up on his elbows, beginning to look a bit annoyed. "Non, what choo mean?" he demanded again. "Who ah am?" he asked incredulously, batting Logan's hand away.

Logan sat back, confused. "Rem, I don't care, honest!"

"Don' keya what?" he ground out.

"That you're a… well, that you were…"

Remy's jaw fell slack as the realization hit him. "You t'ink Remy jeunne homme de joie." He accused angrily.

Logan paused. "Well… y'no, yer just really good with customers an' everything. Christ, Rem, ya said so yerself! Ya said ya got a lot of experience with that kind o' thing!" Now he was beginning to get annoyed.

"Ah meant de restaurant business!" Remy shouted, jumping up, now furiously collecting his discarded clothing.

"Rems, wait!" Logan implored him, now seeing his mistake. He took the boy's wrist gently.

"Get cho hans off me!" Remy growled, yanking his wrist away and jerking his trousers back on. "Cochon!" He spat viciously.

"Remy!" Logan tried, "I thought that was what you meant!"

The boy spun around, his chest heaving with emotion. "Mebbe mah English not so good," he scowled, "O' mebbe you jes heeya what choo wan to!" With that, he spun around, knocking the door aside and storming down the stairs.

"Shit." Logan growled, running a hand irritably through his hair. That was not at all how he'd planned the evening turning out.