Animals
Chapter 2
by
Blu
Animals is dedicated to those who dream in shades of purple.
Please note that both characters in this story are of legal age.
It seems like a long walk to the lake. I've done it a hundred times before, more than that, prob'ly. It's the place I go to when I need ta think. Get things offa my chest. Usually there ain't anyone there. It's quiet - just the sound o' the waves on the stones. Reminds me o' my time in Japan. The best years in my life - the quietest.
Lately there's been a lot o' people comin' an' goin' from the mansion, an' I'm startin' ta feel a little claustrophobic. I don't like puttin' up with other people.
The cold, hard,small rocks feel good under my feet as I walk. I'm ready for a nice night alone, just me an' the stars an' the water.
He stood there, just lookin' at me, for a minute. Was prob'ly as surprised ta see me as I was ta see him.
"Hello Wolverine," he said.
"Hi," I said back.
Cable an' I were never real close. We weren't real buddy-buddy. Too much alike, I think. I can't work with him on missions, becase we both try to lead - we both try ot be loners and we're both as stubborn as bulls. 'Sides, the fact that he's s'posed ta be some future son of Scott and Jean's ... just don't sit with me real well. Too much 'in yer face' proof that Jean an' me just ain't meant for eachother.
We just kinda stare at eachother for a bit. I don't have anything ta say ta him, an' he's likely got nothin' ta say to me. It doesn't bother me. I'm surprised he's here but I can share my space. One thing we always did get about eachother - we need our space. Only another loner can know how important that is to someone like himself. We've always respected eachother.
He surprises me; speaks up. "What brings you out here?"
"Aww you know me, Askani - I'm always prowlin', these hours."
He grunts and gives a sort of sharp nod - and then looks at the lake. All dark face and glarin' eyes and hard jaw. "What about you? This ain't your kinda place."
He gives me just the side of his face, the eye with the burnt star scar around it. I'm not impressed by too much - I got tons o' scars all my own, but I always liked that one on him. It's got respect. Power. No fear. I can appreciate that in a man. "Logan, when did you ever know what 'my kind of place' is?"
I shrug. "I don't. But this ain't it."
I know I'm right and I know he knows it's right. He gives a dry chuckle. "I never could beat you at this game."
"Nope." I light up a cigar and walk out along the wooden pier that's been here for as long as I have. I go out to the very end and lay down, letting my body rest on my elbows, legs long out in front of me; take in a deep draw, put my head skyward, and then let it out, feeling it in my nostrils and rolling through my veins. A long sigh and then I'm content. The stars look ... they look ... they look so beautiful. More than I know how to describe. In my head I just get this feeling - like I wanna fall off where I'm sittin' and go to one of those stars. "Nice night," I add.
He gives me that sideways look again, then turns grim. "In my time, the stars were never visible. The nuclear fallout made a dust so thick it was like haze - day and night. During the day the sun was obscured and during the night the sky was black. The only light came from giant lamps left over from before the wars, and even that would be just like a fuzzed cloud of twilight - some orange-brown glow."
He cuts himself off and I don't say nothin'. Then: "Sounds kinda like hell."
He turns his full gaze on me for the first time since I got there and I see all of him. He's not young like most of the others - he's not old, either. Another thing he and I have in common. Neither one of us knows how old we are - and he grew up fast. Leading militia armies, rebel groups, looking out for his people. "It was. Sometimes. But when it's the only life you know ... it doesn't seem that bad. This," he puts an arm out and drags it over the night horizon, "this makes me think I was in hell. This is ..."
"Beautiful," I finish for him.
"Yes."
We're both silent for awhile, again. He's sat down on the rocks. I can see his arm glinting - the organic steel virus that his own twin infected him with ... that's somethin' else ... a future twin born as a clone from a clone. Scott's son but not Jean's. Stryfe. Responsible for the Legacy. An engineered madman, really. Apocalypse and Sinister had their fun with him, but in the end Cable beat him - on the moon of all places. I have to bite back a raw laugh as I'm thinking about all this. Sometimes my life, and these people, seem so fuckin' unreal I don't evn know if it's mine - if I'm the one livin' it, if they're who I really know.
"You know, we aren't so different," I tell him. "If I lived in your world - we mighta even been friends."
He gives a genuine laugh - and so do I. "Then I would know I was in hell."
"Come on," I say, still laughing a little. "Give me a little credit."
He looks at me, smiling. "You're not all bad, Logan. You've saved my ass a few times."
"A few!?"
"Hey - I saved yours more than I could count."
"Oh - when!?"
"You're in rare form, Logan. Did I ruffle your feathers."
"Lookin't the wrong guy, bub."
I kinda like the banter. We don't know eachother well enough yet to be second-guessing, like it is with every other goddam piece o' work in this joint.
"You're right," he says, lookin' thoughtful, "we might have been."
"Cable - ya got a girl, back in the future?"
"No."
"Must get kinda lonely, eh?"
"My life keeps me busy, Logan. I hardly have time to think on girls."
"What about boys? Ya hang with all them rough militiamen ... their leader ... the one they look up to ... their teacher." I been told I look like a demon when I'm hunting - and right now I feel like one. It gives me a rush to push people over the edge. It's like a need I have.
"What about YOU, Logan?" is his dry answer. I give him a half-grin. Smoke a little.
"We ain't talkin' 'bout me."
"Why not? Got something to hide?"
I look at him. He's got a grin on his face - I can see it, even though he's tryin' hard not ta show it. "Ya didn't answer my question, sweetcakes."
"'Sweet -- !? YOU didn't answer MINE!"
"I asked first."
"I told you - there wasn't any time --"
"For girls. Or do you like them a little tighter'n that?" I lean forward and say it low. I've got a rush like I can't explain. I ain't tryin' ta be mean. I like to press buttons.
"Either!" he finally says, an' I can tell I've got him a little flustered.
"So," I lean back casually, "you do. Like boys. Then. Right?"
He just looks at me. Then he's all business again, like he suddenly realized he's been actin' a pansy. "This conversation is over, Logan." He gets up. "You're right - you and I aren't so different. But we won't ever be friends." He starts to walk away. I toss my smoke in the water. He's entering the trees when I pin him. I got my claws out and three-inches in ta the tree trunk in front of his face. He turns around. He's calm. I can smell that he isn't even nervous. I respect that. "Are we going to play 'who's the bigger alpha male' Logan?"
"You'd lose."
"I don't think so."
Our voices are low. Hard. Desperate for a way out. Challenging. The only smells between us are pride and sweat - that blood-flushed skin-scent that men get when they remember their primal roots in the back o' their heads. I know it better'n most - I live it everyday. Animals.
We just stare at eachother.
"I'm getting out of here," he says.
"Fine." I let my claws out of the tree and open his path for him, stepping aside and even pointing the way with my arm. He's walkin' by and I can't help myself. I'm the predator. "Don't worry - I won't tell your daddy that you like to fuck ass just like he does."
I'm up against a tree before I can blink - there's no air in my lungs and my body burns from the impact, but I'm smilin'. He walks up ta me from 20 feet away, where we were at. I'm still pinned and the closer he gets the more I feel like I'm in a vice.
"You never answered my question."
"Lemme down and I'll answer it."
"Bullshit."
I do my best ta give him a sincere look, but I know I look more like a ragdoll just then. "Prom - promis ..."
"What's that?" he holds a hand to his ear. I gotta give him credit - he's got balls. I could gut him if I really was mad. I ain't tho. Not mad. Just hotter'n hell from the fight. He's red-faced and sweatin' and he's so close I c'n feel the heat. He puts his metal arm up ta my neck and squeezes, then he's in my face, breath hot on me. "What?"
I can't really say naything now. Outta air. So I just stare at him. He lets me down.
"Thanks," I say.
"Answer."
"Oh that." I shrug. "Why such a big deal. Ain't nothin' wrong with it. Love a man, love a woman - same thing. Just different parts. If I wanna fuck a man who the hell needs ta know? What difference does it make? It's like eatin' a damn sandwich - or ice cream. I might just FEEL like it."
"Then it's your choice?"
"It's not anything. I don't think about it like it ain't normal or regular. It just IS."
"Warrior love ..."
"Somethin' like that."
Animal love, maybe.
I c'n feel him thinkin'. I step up ta him and put a hand on him. There. I can feel him hard an' warm. "Whaddoya say?"
Neither one of us says anything. Somewhere deep down we connect at a level that only two men can connect at - not love. I don't love people. Not like that. Not anymore. But some kinda respect passes between him an' me. We ain't the two alpha males fightin'. Not now. No. We're the two leaders and we've finally managed to just shut up and see inta eachother. See past all the bullshit exterior and all the hard faces and grim expressions.
I'm on the ground and he's heavy on top o' me, his arms are on either side of me. I'm not playin' passive. It's not even that way. There aren't any labels on us. We're not making love, we're not having a conversation, we're not even bein' friends. Not that way. No. We're on the ground, and we're makin' sound and we're hot, wet - sweat scents and men scents and teeth. It'skinda crazy but it's always that way fer me - the rush I get. Like ridin' a bike at 80 at night. Like diving off a cliff. Like knowin' I'm gonna die and then beatin' it.
I can feel 'im hard against me. Pressed down on me. Cold naked steel on one side of my chest and hot skin on the other. Drenched all over with his sweat. And mine. He's got a kiss that sets my mouth on fire. Down on my neck and over my chest. I pop my claws and rake his back - not hard. I don't even scratch. Then I'm on top of him, looking at his back, his neck - and I bite down lightly while I enter him. Jam my claws into the ground and all there is is sound and sweat and hardness until I'm so fuckin' crazy high I can't even find a focus.
My arm is around his neck, and we're melded to eachother at the mouth when I feel it. It's like ... it's like nothin'. Pure primal need. An urgency and a feelin' so good that I can't even understand or comprehend anything, and I don't wanta. I don't. I just let out a pounding growl and he's incoherent under me, seizing tremors racing through us both.
No ifs ands or buts afterwards. Wrap up and go our separate ways. Bonded. Don't need ta speak ta him any more'n I did before. But when I think back on it. I wish I knew him better. Maybe ... living in the future with him ...
Just that, things aren't that way. Maybe, somewhere deeper. Never be friends, though.
Animals
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