Chapter 20 (Nori)
I look around my office and can hardly believe I'm in here alone. Remy and Logan have been so clingy ever since I, well, returned from the dead last week. Which I totally understand. And I find it sweet, I do. But I also need a little space. And they do too, they're just too freaked out to notice. I finally told them that if they didn't go burn off some of their nervous energy in the Danger Room, I was going to just start telekinetically throwing things at them.
Logan had looked at me skeptically, but Remy knew I was serious, and he dragged our lover down to the basement. And now I can count on at least an hour of privacy. I take the bottle of vinegar and bowl off my shelf and soak my fingers for a few minutes. It stings like hell, but it's supposed to help calluses develop faster. I'm not sure if it works or if it's just an old wives' tale, but I'm willing to try. I take my hands out, wipe them on a dish towel, and start to play. It hurts. I'd forgotten how much it hurt when I first started playing guitar. But it's worth it. Almost all painful things are worth it, I think.
I slide into a dreamy music-trance and don't notice the pain in my fingers so much. Someone knocks on my door, and I say, "Come in," without bothering to check who it is.
I'm surprised when Jean Grey walks in my office door. We haven't spoken much since she got back. It's understandable-she's been busy reuniting with people who actually knew her, and busy trying to come to terms with herself.
"Hi, Jean," I say, smiling.
"Hi, Nori," she says, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
"Please, sit down," I say tilting my head toward the couch.
She gives a shy smile and sits down. "I just thought... we should maybe get to know each other."
"Yes, I would love to." I wipe down the strings and set my guitar back in its case, and we haltingly exchange basic biographical details-birthplace, education, employment history.
Finally, she asks, hesitantly, "But you were with the Brotherhood, right? At Liberty Island?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
I shrug. "Magneto... saved me. Well, he tried to, anyway. He took me in before Stryker could capture me. And, well, maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome, but I... I kind of agreed with some of his ideas. And I didn't know where else I could go." I look down at my hands before adding, "And at Liberty Island... he told me he'd kill a girl if I didn't help him with his machine. And I swear, I didn't know that it would kill people. He-he told me he had tested it, and it worked."
Jean looks at me solemnly and says, "Oh, I believe you, of course. I-I didn't mean to imply that I thought you would have-or to judge-I just wanted to understand."
I smile. "It's kind of a soap opera, I know. Yes. Remy and I were with the Brotherhood for, oh, two years. Although six months of that, I was in Stryker's lab. And then we were kidnapped by the FOH, and the X-Men rescued us. I-I was kind of out of it for a while after that. But we've been here ever since."
She looks at my hands and says, "And you and Remy are married?"
"Yes," I say happily, "We've been married almost a year."
"He... he really loves you," she says.
"Yes. And Scott loves you."
Jean licks her lips. "I'm not sure how to say this."
I tilt my head expectantly. "Go ahead. You saved my life, Jean, you can ask me whatever you want."
Jean blushes and says, "It's not... any of my business, but, is there... is there anything going on between... you and Logan?"
"I suppose it is your business, a little," I say. "I know you and Logan had-a connection. And yes. There is something going on between me and Logan and Remy."
"Between-oh," Jean says.
"Thank you for asking and not just speculating," I say.
"There wasn't anything between me and Logan," Jean says. "I would never cheat on Scott."
"I would never cheat on Remy," I say. I'm not angry, but I do want to clarify. "We were together first, but we both agreed to open our relationship to include Logan."
"Oh, I mean, I didn't mean to say-that you would cheat-" Jean says. She's flustered, and from what I can tell of Jean Grey, she's not a woman who flusters easily.
"It's okay. I know it's kind of unusual. But, well, we have a lot in common. It works really well for us."
Jean looks at me skeptically. "I'm sorry. But-what do you have in common with those two?"
"For starters, we've all been fucked up by Stryker. And when-I kind of had to re-learn English two years ago, and since Logan was the only one here who spoke Japanese, I relied on him a lot for communication. And I was the one who helped put together his memories. We... well, I suppose it's more about complementing each other. We balance each other out very well."
"And they don't-they don't get jealous?"
"Of who?"
"Each other?"
"No," I say. "They love each other. They go back a long time. Logan sometimes gets jealous of my ex-girlfriend, I think, but it's not a big deal. And Remy's too cocky to be jealous of anyone."
"You make it sound so simple," Jean marvels.
I shrug. "It kind of is. I mean, we have disagreements sometimes, of course, but honestly, I have fewer fights between the three of us than I did in my last few relationships, by far."
"And-you're happy?"
"Delighted," I say, beaming. "Hey. Look. I try not to read minds without permission-but I'm pretty sure Scott thinks that Logan and Remy are taking advantage of me, or something. But you can tell him that they're not. I promise."
Jean smiles back. "All right. I'm glad to hear it."
"I'm sure you already know this, but-well, Scott helped me learn how to control my telepathy, so, I spent a lot of time accidentally reading his mind. And... and he loves you so much, Jean. So much. I just-wanted to tell you."
"Thanks, Nori," Jean says. "I-I know he does." We pause for a moment, and she says, "What were you playing? When I came in?"
"Hmm? Oh, some Springsteen. Love him."
She smiles. "Scott likes him, too."
"I mean... everyone should. People always talk about how his music is blue collar rock, but he sings about themes of loneliness and love that are universal."
"Would you mind playing something for me?"
"I would love to," I say. I consider for a moment. I'd actually been playing "I'm on Fire" when Jean had knocked, but I decide against playing that. "The kids sang this at graduation last year," I say, and I launch into "The Rising."
Can't see nothin' in front of me
Can't see nothin' coming up behind
I make my way through this darkness
I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me
Lost track of how far I've gone
How far I've gone, how high I've climbed
On my back's a sixty pound stone
On my shoulder a half mile line
Come on up for the rising
Come on up, lay your hands in mine
She claps when I finish. "You're good!" she says. "I mean, I guess you must be, since it was your job and all."
I shrug. "There are plenty of people who make their living from music who aren't actually any good at it."
"Fair point," she says with a smile. "I guess I'd better get going. Thanks for the song. And thanks for your honesty."
"Thanks for asking," I say. "Come by any time. I'm always happy to have an audience."
"I'd like that," she says, heads out into the hallway.
I keep playing for myself. Before too long, Logan and Remy turn up. They seem calmer, and they've showered. I smile at them.
Logan sniffs. "Smells like blood. Everything okay?"
I hold out my hands.
"Jesus, darlin', how long have you been playing?"
I shrug. "I don't know. Couple hours, on and off. This new skin isn't used to guitar playing."
"I thought you got new strings."
I laugh. "I did, but I'm still pressing both my fingers against thin pieces of metal. I just have to get some calluses built back up and then I can play without breaking the skin."
"Don't it hurt?" he asks.
"Yeah," I say with a shrug. "But it's worth it." I consider for a moment, and say, "Shit, Logan, if you played guitar this would happen to you every time, huh?"
One of the most incongruous things about Logan is how soft his skin actually is. He's hairy as fuck, which masks most of it, but his hands are soft as butter. Any kind of callus he would ever build up simply heals away.
He smiles. "I'll leave that to you, darlin'." He comes closer and takes my hands. "Why don't you stop for the day, give your hands a break?"
I quirk my lips. "One more song, and then I'll stop."
"All right."
I play and sing,
Once I thought I knew
Everything I needed to know about you
Your sweet whisper, your tender touch
But I didn't really know that much
Joke's on me, it's gonna be okay
If I can just get through this lonesome day
Hell's brewin', dark sun's on the rise
This storm'll blow through by and by
House is on fire, viper's in the grass
A little revenge and this too shall pass
This too shall pass, I'm gonna pray
Right now all I got's this lonesome day
It's all right, it's all right, it's all right
It's such a poetic song, and I love the big, hard musical counterpoint to the lyrics. I've been listening to The Rising, his post-9/11 album, a lot this past week. It puts my own life in perspective. Maybe I did die, but I came back. There are plenty of people who can't say the same.
Remy says, "Were you lonesome without us, cher?"
"Terribly," I say, melodramatically. I put the guitar away and rub ointment on my healing tattoo and my tattered fingers. I sit up on top of my desk and ask, "How was the Danger Room?"
"Oh, the usual," Remy says nonchalantly. "Saved all the women and children, took care of all the bad guys."
"My heroes," I say, grinning at them.
Logan says, sniffing the air, "What'd Jean come see you about?" It's kind of weird how he does that. It's like he's from CSI or something.
"Oh, she wanted to ask if I was cheating on my husband."
The look on Logan's face makes me giggle.
"Wait, are you cheating on your husband?" Remy asks.
"Only under supervision," I say.
"Well, that's all right, then."
"What'd you tell Jeannie?" Logan asks.
"I told her I would never cheat on my husband, but that yes, we were both involved with you. And I told her to tell Scott to stop looking at me like I'm in a Lifetime Original Movie."
Remy grins, but Logan looks unhappy, and I say, "Look, anata, I know you didn't want to tell people or whatever, but we all live in the same house. People aren't stupid, and they know something's going on between the three of us. And the details they make up are much sketchier than what's actually happening. I mean, I don't think we need to share in-depth, but why shouldn't we tell the truth if people-if adults-ask? I'm not ashamed."
He shrugs. "I don't care what people think."
"Bullshit, Logan, you do," I say. Something clicks. "Is it-did you want-Jean?"
"What? No!" he says, and he's so surprised and outraged that I believe him without using my telepathy. He makes an adorable face of intense concentration while he considers his words and finally says, "Look... I love... both of you. I don't want Jean, or anyone else. But I don't want-you and Remy have a good thing going. I don't want people to think I'm wrecking it. People won't understand."
I roll my eyes. "People won't understand if you don't tell them anything, no. If you just glower and act like you have something to hide, people will assume the worst."
He says nothing, and I continue, "Look, Logan, like it or not... you live here now. With us. It's weird for all three of us, to have a home, to commit to staying in one place. But this is it. This is the place. Stop acting like you're just passing through, and trust your teammates. Trust us."
"I do trust you," he says.
"Good," I say, smiling at him.
"Nori's right, Logan," Remy says. "You're stuck with us now."
He grins. "Well. Then I'd better make the most of it, huh?"
I hop off the desk and climb up on Logan's lap. "Hmm," I say. "What are you going to do with us?"
"I could think of a few things." He kisses me, hard.
"Mmph," I say. "Maybe we should take this upstairs before I have to sneak out into the hallway wearing Remy's sweater again."
Logan's breath speeds up at the memory. "Maybe I want you in Remy's sweater."
"I don't want her in anything at all," Remy murmurs.
"Upstairs," I insist. I jump off Logan's lap and head for the door. They follow quickly behind me. I like where this is going. Since I came back, they've been very sweet and gentle with me in bed. Which is nice, of course, but honestly, I like it when they're rough with , I mean, they're not going to break me or anything. Upstairs, I sit on the bed and look up at Remy and Logan.
"You want to play, pet?" Remy asks.
"Yes, please."
Logan smiles. "We bought you a present today, pet."
"What? When?"
"We're efficient," Remy says.
Logan opens a drawer and hands me a plastic bag. "Why don't you take off all this," he says, gesturing at my body, "And put on your new present?"
I open the bag and find a pale pink dog collar. I blush. Remy says, "Look, she likes it."
"I don't care if she likes it or not," Logan says. "She'll wear it."
Still blushing, I pull my dress over my head. I slip out of my shoes and my leggings. Finally, I take off my underwear-if only to protect my bra straps from Logan's claws. Then I try to put the collar on. It's a little hard to adjust it on my own neck. I'm breathing hard and I look up at them. Remy steps closer and runs his hand along the collar. Then he bends down to kiss me. "Very nice, pet," he says.
"Thank you," I say.
Logan joins us. He looks at me and tightens the collar one notch. I let out a little whimpery sound. He slides a finger between the collar and my throat. "Not too tight, is it, pet?"
"No," I say.
He bends down and kisses me, possessively. I jump up and wrap my legs around him, kissing back. He holds me for a minute before putting me down on the bed. I look up at him eagerly and he smiles.
"You're ours," he says.
"I know."
He gives me a predatory smile before opening the bottom drawer, where we keep our toys. He lets me see the cuffs, the rope. "Kneel, pet," he orders, and I do. Submissively, I let him put the cuffs on my wrists and ankles. He connects my hands behind my back, and then runs a length of rope between my ankles and my wrists. I have a tiny bit of wriggle room, but basically, I'm stuck on my knees with my hands behind my back. "One more thing," he says, and he ties a scarf over my mouth.
"Mmph," I say, looking up at him. I'm not sure what he wants from me. There's not much I can do right now.
He slips a finger between my legs. I'm already embarrassed and excited and wet. He puts a vibrating egg up inside me and turns it on. I moan behind the scarf.
Logan nods and then joins Remy in front of me. They begin to kiss each other fiercely. I sigh and settle back to watch, since there's not much else I can do. Then Logan puts out a claw and slices Remy's shirt off. Remy moans and undoes his belt, sliding his pants to the ground before Logan can get to them. Honestly, it is super hot when Logan does that, but does he think clothing grows on trees? It does not.
But I forget all that when Logan goes back to our drawer and comes back with lube. He squeezes some into a palm and gently rubs it into Remy's ass. Then he puts some on a finger and slowly slides it in. Remy moans and jerks back up against his finger. I watch, wide-eyed, as Logan slowly but firmly slides his finger in. He pulls it out and fucks him with one finger, then adds a second.
"Mon dieu, Logan, feels s'good," Remy spits out.
"Yeah? You want more?"
"Yesss," Remy says.
Logan smiles. He takes his time unbuttoning his shirt and sliding out of his pants. Logan is a goddamn tease. When he's naked, he lubes his cock and pushes Remy over to the bed. He bends forward over it. His head ends up close to my knees, but I can't reach out to touch him or do anything. He reaches a hand up and teases my pussy. I glance down and watch as Logan thrusts into Remy.
"Oh, God, that's good," Logan says. Remy gives a wordless moan. I'm digging my nails into the palms of my hands in frustration. Remy's grinding his hard cock against the bed, and Logan reaches forward to grab it. When Logan grunts and comes in Remy, Remy and I are both nearly frantic.
"Mmph," I say.
Logan smiles. He comes behind me and undoes the rope. Then he repositions me, on the bed with my wrists tied to the bedpost. I look up at him anxiously. "Good girl," he says soothingly. He runs his hands over my breasts and I squirm. He kneels next to me. Remy quickly cleans himself off and rolls on a condom. He takes the vibrator out of me and then fucks me. He's not gentle. I wrap my legs around him and thrust up against him. I've waited so long for this. I'm still gagged, and I whimper questioningly.
"You can come, pet," Remy says, "Whenever you want." He runs a hand under my collar.
I focus my empathy on both of them as I shiver out an intense orgasm and lie back weakly, my legs still around Remy. He moans and follows suit. He lies next to me and sighs, stroking my stomach. Insatiable Logan starts teasing my clit. He's already hard again. I whimper, and he says, "You all right, pet?"
I nod, and he gets back to his task. I'm more than ready when he slips his cock in me. Logan fucks differently from Remy. He's, well, more animal. Not in a bad way. It's just more... raw, more urgent. Remy lies on his side next to us and licks and sucks at my throat and earlobe. Logan growls and whispers, "Come, pet." I obey, and my empathy and my writhing trigger his own orgasm. Panting, we lie together. Remy undoes my gag and cuffs and I snuggle against Logan, putting my arms around him.
"That was really, really, hot," I say, articulately.
He strokes my hair. "Love you, darlin'," he murmurs.
"Love you too."
Remy reaches out for my left wrist. He carefully peels off the bandage over my fresh tattoo and checks it. He puts on a thin layer of ointment and rebandages it.
"Thanks, love," I say.
He kisses my hand. "Any time, cher." Then he gently unbuckles my collar and puts it back in the drawer. He puts an arm over my shoulder and we lie together.
"How you doin' there, Remy?" Logan asks.
"Just fine," he says.
Despite being a fairly sexually adventurous lady, I don't know a lot about anal sex. I've never seen Remy and Logan do it before, though I think they might have done it a few times when I wasn't around.
"Does it hurt?" I ask.
"Little bit," Remy says. "But in a good way. You know."
"Hmm," I say.
"Don't get jealous, cher," Remy says affably. "Variety's the spice of life."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of being jealous. As long as I get to watch."
"You like watching, eh, cher?"
"Yes," I say, blushing again.
"Good," he says, kissing my shoulder.
Remy muses, "So, Logan, you're saying you don't think something like this would ever be a possibility for Jean and Scott?"
Logan bursts out laughing.
"You never know," I say. "Lots of people you wouldn't expect are into swinging and stuff."
"Scott Summers is not," Logan says, definitively.
"Well. His loss," I say. He laughs and strokes my hair.
"Don't you go trying to persuade him, cher," Remy says. "This is a big bed, but it ain't that big."
"He's not my type anyway," I say. Jean is, but I don't say so.
"You have good taste, darlin'," Logan says. We lazily lie nestled together in a post-sex daze and gossip until dinnertime. All in all, I'm feeling quite satisfied with my life.
UNSOLICITED NOTE ABOUT MUSIC: I don't necessarily share all of Nori's opinions about music, but I do have to say that The Rising is a fantastic album, and if you only know Bruce Springsteen for "Born in the USA," you should check it out. I mean, you know, if you want. No big deal.
I also agree with Nori that "Thunder Road" is Springsteen's best song, but I think that is less a matter of opinion and more of incontrovertible fact.