Ch 15- Familiarity

Logan woke that morning to the sound of birds singing and the warm breath of someone small pressed against his chest. It took a moment for the mutant to piece together who could be in his room, in his bed, when the body curled up with his shifted slightly, causing a mess of perfect inky black curls to fall into Logan's line of sight.

Hayden.

He must have come in late last night. The mansion's heater had been acting up and they had yet to find the time to look it over, so it must have finally given out. Harry, according to Logan's memory, had always been prone to the cold, so it would make sense that Bobby would be seen as a last resort when looking for a warm, safe place to sleep.

Hayden shifted again in his sleep, pressing impossibly closer to Logan in his search for warmth, one hand occupied with creasing the white t-shirt under his head, the other wrapped securely around the older mutant's waist, holding him captive. Logan smiled softly, his eyes drifting over the delicate features of the small feral, usually so well controlled in his waking hours, now relaxed in dreams.

Logan smiled, his eyes crinkling softly in the corners, as he watched the small mutant sleep, the soft curves of his body resting trustingly against the older man as he dreamt. It was the weekend and they had no where to be.

So, the Canadian shifted gently back under the blankets, pressing a tender kiss to the alabaster shoulder that peeked out from the large sweater the boy was wearing as he settled back into sleep. Everything he had ever needed, laying warm and safe in his arms.

...

Scott felt the hand travel up his waist as he dozed, the familiar warmth of Charles hand resting gently in his hair, brushing some of the baby soft strands back to kiss the unburdened brow. It was nice, waking up like this, cocooned against the older man's body as he dozed. The hand in his hair drifting down to reclaim its original position, wrapped around Scott's waist.

"We should get up soon. The others will be wondering where we are." Said Charles, his eyes soft as he pulled his surprising pliant love closer, drawing the blankets up higher on to the younger man's chilled shoulder.

The drowsy man grunted, pressing his face into the telepath's chest, reluctant to rise from the warmth of the bedclothes. Charles laughed softly, careful not to disturb the brunette resting against his collar bone, his recently placed hand now reaching up to trace the small circular scar on Scott's neck.

Scott paused, uncomfortable, but unwilling to pull away, he endured the touch, shivering as the sensitive skin was manipulated by his professor's fingertips. "Does it still hurt you?"

"...I think it's phantom pain. It doesn't bother me though." Said Scott, his voice a dry whisper fresh from sleep.

Charles nodded, threading his fingers into the soft tresses at his protege's neck, pulling gently to lift the familiar face to look into his before pressing a soft kiss to pliant lips. The pair lingered, the touch warm and comfortable, secure in the home they had built around each other, now just beginning to be inhabitated.

When the couple pulled apart, Scott's pupils slightly enlarged, his breathing irregular from the emotion behind the kiss. Charles looked down at this young man, whom he had known for many years, amazed by the range of emotion expressed in facial features. "I adore you." He whispered, his eyes soft as they traced the outline of Scott's features.

The younger man smiled gently, reaching up from where he stayed cradled in the crook of Charles' arm to pull the telepath on to his body, the man's useless legs slipping between Scott's thighs. "I love you." Scott breathed, opening himself to the man resting on his arms above him, a tender smile breaking over his face as Charles gingerly pressed into his body.

Once fully encased, Charles looked to note any change in his lover's features, searching for any indication of pain. "I'm fine." Scott breathed, his fingers grasping the older man's wrist to interlace their hands. Charles nodded, smiling as he set a gentle pace, his own telekinesis sustaining the couple's momentum as they worked together toward completion.

...

It was around noon, when Harry finally left the warmth of Logan's bed, the older man out cold from the looks of it. The ache in his body too much to ignore. He needed to feed soon, but he could hold off looking for Bobby until he had showered and dressed. So, he helped himself to the sleeping man's bathroom; turning on the shower and ridding himself of the oversized flannel pajama pants and cotton t-shirt.

Harry stood bare infront of the mirror, simply looking at the body that was so familiar to him and yet would always be foreign. He didn't do this often, preferring to avoid any reflective surfaces when naked and closing his eyes when he washed. It was always best not to look. He knew he wasn't natural.

It was as Harry was stepping into the shower that Logan shifted reaching out to the still warm bedclothes, as if to pull Harry closer, only to find the now vacant space cold and the shower running. The older man smiled, memories of peace times with Harry springing to the forefront of his mind as he listened to the small paramour singing softly against the spray of the shower, the soothing tunes an old Irish lullaby adding colors and smells to the already vivid picture captured in Logan's mind.

"Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen and down the mountainside

And Summer's gone and all the leaves are falling

Tis you, tis you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when Summer's in the meadow

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow

Tis I'll be here in sunlight or in shadow

Oh, danny boy, oh, danny boy

I love you so..."

Logan stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the forest that surrounded the small cottage that Hayden had worked hard to restore after the returning home from France when the fighting had finally stopped. Logan and Victor followedfrom Russia a few weeks later, both on edge from the stress of the war and Victor's slipping control, they traipsed through tall summer grasses and across running brooks, searching for any tell tale signs of the small mutant's presence.

It wasn't until it was nearing dusk that they saw a house on the edge of the forest, a low stone wall, the only thing to keep the intrusion of brush and small animals from violating the tranquility of the isolated home. A light shone from the window, the presence of an inhabitant casting shadows against the panes of glass.

The brothers smiled as they watched what was obviously Hayden move about in the warm glow of his house, both hesitant of disrupting the peace and solitude that the younger male craved after seeing the horrors of the recently finished war. It wasn't until the door opened, a crack of light streaming from the house, that the two men took their cues and approached the wall, opening the slightly creaky gate and entering the home.

There was an air of calm about the house as the brothers entered, the warmth from the large fireplace encasing the front room in golden light, a kettle of water whistling quietly, as ferals listened as someone moved suredly behind the door that must have led into the kitchen, the smells of food wafting from the space between the floor and the door.

"I hope ya boys are hungry, I made fried chicken with all the fixin's." Hayden shouted from the kitchen, the door swinging open to reveal the small paramour, his hands holding two plates heaping with steaming chicken. Both brothers stared as the small mutant moved placing the precariously loaded plates on to the small wooden table, before looking up, his eyes a soft sea green as they flickered fondly over the war weary men, still dressed in the olive green of fatigues.

Victor was the first to break the silence that had descended over the trio, rushing forward without warning to wrap his arms gingerly around Hayden, pressing his face into the pulse point on his neck, breathing deeply the smell of Summer and green apples. Logan stood to the side, his eyes shifted away from the scene unfolding before him as he had many times before, his own arms heavy with the need to hold the small mutant to him as well.

Secure in heavily muscled arms, Hayden sagged against the broad chest of his lover, the stress and hunger from the past few years suddenly weighing on his form as the need to feed rose. "You've lost weight." Said Victor, his eyes sharp, almost animalistic against the usually kind face.

Hayden remained silent, burying himself deeper into the strong arms that held him. He spotted Logan, hiding in the shadows, his eyes watching the pair for any sign of violence, but unlike most of Victor's encounters, there was nothing.

"Big papa." Hayden murmured, pulling gently away from Victor and pointing him in the direction of the kitchen. Logan stepped forward, meeting the small mutant half way, before surrendering to his own longing and pulling the paramour into his arms, pressing his nose into the soft, dark curls as Hayden pressed closer.

"God, I missed you." Whispered Logan, brushing the errant strands hair that fell across the youthful mutant's face, pressing a kiss to the smooth forehead.

"I missed ya too. Let's never go do another war again, I can't stand 'em." Whined Hayden, looking into the deep brown eyes, his hunger and loneliness rushing to the forefront as he relaxed.

Logan sighed, looking over the paramour's shoulder to see Victor, his eyes hungry as the room was suddenly flooded with pheromone. The younger feral's eyes narrowed, unaffected by Hayden's mutation, trying to establish himself, once again, as the small male's protector, even if it was from his own mate.

Victor straightened, snarling silently as he gave in to Logan's positioning and sat silently at the table waiting for the other two to join him.

...

Logan sat against the headboard, trapped in thought as Harry came out of the bathroom, hair wet, dressed in one of the older man's flannel shirts. "Hey," the small mutant whispered against the large feral's ear, pressing his thin chest to Logan's broad shoulder as he shivered gently from the cold of the room, "whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

The older man smiled, pulling the tiny male into his lap and wrapping his arms around the fragile form. "I adore you." He whispered, his eyes soft as they looked into Harry's soft summer green eyes.

He expected laughter, or embarassment, even anger at his admission, instead he saw tears, somehow marring the moment with sadness. Hayden looked up, haunted and so lonely wrapped in Logan's arms, "I love you, so much." He whispered, though the look in his eyes lingered.

Logan smiled, gently brushing the tears away from his charge's eyes, "Why the tears then? Something you're not telling me?"

"I'm just so sorry for what is going to happen."