Here I Am

BY : Aja
Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Slash - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 4748
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Author: Kerry ~Aja

Pairing: Bobby/Logan, Bobby/Scott

Rating: R

Summary: Bobby realizes he shouldn't have gone for the second choice first. (Aja realizes she sucks at summaries.)

Note: Written after listening to Josh Joplin Group's "Here I Am"
Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters, I'm just playing with them. I'll put them back where I found them, honest. Fiction.



He looks up again, and away. There's no way he's letting Scott see him cry. He just pulls his knees tighter to his chin and mumbles, "go away."

"Not till you tell me, promise me, that you won't do anything stupid."

Bobby blinks, buries his face in denim. Entertains brief thoughts of smothering himself. He tries not to sound petulant, but thinks he probably does. "I'm just a teenager, remember? I'm prone to doing stupid things."

Scott sighs, then does the worst thing he could possibly have done. Ruffles Bobby's hair. He gets up without another word, the mattress instantly rising to extinguish all trace of him having been there. Bobby's shoulders shake as he sobs. He doesn't hear Scott leave, but when he has to lift his head just to catch a breath, the room is empty. He lifts the edge of his duvet to wipe his eyes on, gulping in air. His cheeks feel tight in places where some of the tears have stuck, frosty, to his skin. It makes him feel even more ridiculous.

'I really am a freak,' he thinks. 'Even for this place.'
"I "I don't belong here," he whispers, then says it louder. Just to hear the words. "I don't belong."

"Are you-"

Bobby's body jerks. Where the hell did Logan come from?

"-okay there, kid? Sorry. Didn't mean to do that."

Bobby stares. And maybe his mouth's open, maybe he should close it.


"Yeah?" Bobby croaks.

"You belong here as much as anyone else. Don't let ody ody tell you otherwise."

Bobby nods, and somewhere between the second dip and rise of his head, Logan leaves.


Bobby leans back against the tree, rubs a bit to sate an itch. He lifts his palm from the grass to see the dew has frozen, become star-shaped droplets. He's not sure if he did that without realizing, or if it really is that cold. He pulls one of the stars carefully from a thick blade of grass, and holds it up to the late dawn light. Rays refract, fragment, create a barely-there spectrum of colour. Why hasn't he noticed before? Has he not been paying attention?

He already knows the answer to that question. He's been too busy looking at Scott lately to notice much of anything. Even Rogue. Not that she seems to mind all that much. With Logan around, who would?

His hand stills. Did he just..? There it was again. An image of him. Flash - long claws shredding through bedclothes. Flash - head thrown back, jaw slack, mouth hanging open around a cry of pleasure. Flash - skin almost golden in the lamplight, shiny with sweat. Bobby keeps his eyes closed, tries to capture that image and imprint it on his mind.

Somebody clears their throat. Bobby jumps, almost smashes his skull, his head slams so hard against the tree trunk.

Rubbing his head, he looks up. He's ready to give whoever it is a piece of his mind, but stops. Logan. Of course it's Logan. It would make perfect sense after this crappy week. So he doesn't yell. Just winces and rubs his head some more and says softly, "you really should stop sneaking up on people."

Logan shrugs, but doesn't apologize this time. Instead, he drops down into a crouch. "What are you doing out here so early?"

"Couldn't sleep. Besides, it's not that early."

"Just early enough and quiet enough that you won't be disturbed. I hear ya."

Bobby slides his feet back, folds his knees up under his chin again.

"The thing is, Bobby, I really don't think you want to be left alone."

"I'm not alone now, am I?" Bobby drops the icy star and watches it shatter into dew.

Logan nods. Bobby looks up at him, curious. He seems on edge, uncomfortable with the question that Bobby can tell is on the tip of his tongue. So he saves Logan the trouble.

"You want to know why I was crying the other day, don't you?"

Logan nods, though his discomfort appears to remain. "Among other things," he replies.

"Well." Bobby pushes his hands against rough bark for leverage, feels it scrape his skin enough to draw tiny prickles of blood. "Sorry to disappoint you, Logan," he says, backing up. "But it's personal."

"Hey, hold on a-" But it's too late. Bobby's already running across the grass, towards the school.


"You're a tough one to find, Bobby."

"What the hell is your problem?" Bobby glances up from his textbook.

"My problem? I guess it's that you have one." Logan's fist clenches, unclenches. He's not good at this big brotherly stuff. With Bobby, it's mostly because he has no intention of being anything resembling a brother. "You want to talk about it?"

Bobby turns the page, tries to look like he's engrossed in what he's reading. "Not really," he mutters.

"Is it something to do with Rogue? John?"


"Teachers giving you a hard time? C'mon, Bobby. You're not going to get this from me very often, make the most of it."

Bobby finally gives up and slams the textbook shut. "Get what, exactly?"

"My ear."

Bobby's gaze inadvertently flicks to Logan's ear. Blood floods his cheeks as he imagines what it might taste like. And - fuck - there are those flashes again. Logan fucking him through the mattress. Logan's fingers caught in his, shift of palm on palm with every thrust. Logan's mouth wrapped around his-

"Bobby? Are you with me?"

"Why are you so bothered about how I'm doing?" Bobby frowns, meeting Logan's stare head-on. Only way to do it, he thinks. "Isn't there someone else you can go and bug?"

Logan grins. That damned irritating, self-assured grin of his. What's he got to be so smug about anyway? Bobby just glares, waits for him to say something.


"You really don't take hints so well, do you?"

Logan looks at him, his head slowly tilting to one side. Bobby feels like a moth. Caught, pinned down, inspected. "Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. This is one of those times when I don't." He studies Bobby again, and pulls in a deep breath. "So are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to go asking around everyone in this school?"

Bobby scrambles to his feet, the textbook falling to the ground. He considers standing on his toes, just to be at eye level with Logan. "There's nothing wrong. You know, if your head wasn't so full of met-" Bobby exhales mid-sentence. Looks at his feet.

Logan doesn't say a word, but Bobby can feel his eyes boring holes in his head. Shit, shit, shit. Should not have said that. That was just.. low. Great, now his eyes are stinging and he remembers that he cried in front of Scott so there's no way he's crying in front of Logan, too. "Sorry," he manages. Bends down to pick up his book, thinking of just running. Again. But when he straightens up, Logan's just right there. In his way. Like a brick wall.

"Just who is it that's got your head so messed up, Bobby? This isn't like you."

"What would you know about it? You never took any notice of me before, why is it I'm suddenly so high on your list of pathetic-"

"Bobby." Logan cuts him off, shuts him up. "Just tell me."

Something in Logan's eyes makes Bobby realize that the man's not going to give up. He's not going to go away, and if he does it won't be for long. So it's probably better just to get this over with, right? Just tell Logan about his stupid feelings, and about Scott saying 'no', and then, oh yes, his damned fantasies.

"Do you even like me?" he asks instead.

"What? What kind of a question is that? Of course I do."

"Okay." Bobby doesn't smile. "Well, excuse me. I've got to get to my next class."

Bosidesidesteps, but Logan catches his arm. "Oh, no you don't. You're coming with me."


"Fuck, Logan. What do you want from me?" That gets his attention. But not in the way Bobby had hoped. He bites down on his lip as the grip tightens around his arm. He thinks about calling out for help, but the truth is, he's not sure he wants to be rescued.

"Okay," Logan finally says, as he yanks open his bedroom door. He looks both ways but the corridor's deserted. Bobby lets himself be pulled inside, and tries not to worry or think too hard about why Logan closes and locks the door after them.

"Okay what?" Bobby asks, feeling brave. As much as a part of him just wants to get the hell out before he confesses to something that he'll regret, another part is clingontoonto a desperate hope.

"Okay," Logan repeats, turning from the door. "You want something from me. I can tell." He sniffs. "I can smell it."

Bobby's shoulders lift, though he knows that shrugging won't get him out of this. "I guess.P>
"That's it? You guess?" There's a faint tremor to Logan's voice, and Bobby forces himself to look up, look closely. Is Logan nervous?

"I don't want anything from you. I just want.." Bobby taa dea deep breath. Okay, if Logan's nervous, maybe he can just about manage to do this. "Just you. That's all."

"Even though I'm second choice?" He's definitely trembling, Bobby thinks. Not to mention completely off the mark.

"Second choice?" Bobby almost laughs, would laugh if he wasn't afraid it'd make Logan think again. Not that Bobby can even guess at what he's thinking right now. "What makes you think you're second choice?"

That makes whatever confidence Logan was still trying to hold onto stumble a little. He looks uncertain, something Bobby doesn't remember seeing on him before.

"Why the hell would I be the first?" he wants to know.

Bobby swallows, cheeks slowly turning red as he realizes how close to Logan's bed he is. "Why not?"


"Does that satisfy your curiosity? Can I go now?"

Logan doesn't move away from the door. Barely moves a muscle. "Do you want to?"

"I'm thinking I should. Before I do something you'll regret."

"Just go ahead. There's not much you can do that I don't want."

Bobby stares. What? "What? But I thought you.."

"It's why you're so high on my list of, what was it? 'Pathetic' mutants to help out. Which doesn't mean I'm doing this out of charity, so don't look at me like that."

Bobby feels his shoulders sag. He hadn't realized he was looking at Logan in any way.

"What now?"

"Well, I'll be honest with ya. I'm not really up on how this whole thing works with.. Well, with men. But I'm thinking if you just come over here and kiss me, that'd be a good start."

It takes a few moments for Logan's words to sink in. He's never done this before? Bobby grins, practically launches himself across the room and pins Logan to the door with his whole body. He knows Logan won't stand that for more than a minute, but it's long enough to close the distance between their mouths, for Bobby to slide his tongue across the seam of Logan's lips, seeking entry.

As expected, Logan doesn't take long to reverse their positions and regain control. Bobby has little choice but to let Logan plunder his mouth, feel his lips bruise under the insistent attack. For somebody with little experience, Logan sure knows how to kiss a man. 'Boy', Bobby thinks, blinks at the intrusive thought. He thinks again, 'man', and tugs Logan closer still.


Logan's eyes beg, because he can't bring his voice to do it. Bobby says, "not like this"d tud turns over onto his back. The hands tell him this is better, lips busy devouring any words Bobby might have said. Bobby bends his knees, gives Logan a nudge with his foot until he gets the idea.

The mouth on Bobby's loosens, forms an 'oh' of understanding. Fumbling fingers prepare, and Bobby can't believe that Logan's blushing. Chooses to put it down to the heat that's coming off his body.

There's a moment of stillness, and then..

and then..

Bobby's mouth mirrors Logan's, muscles flex and relax, hands clench in hair. Logan's fists make indents in the pillow to each side of Bobby's head, push down harder, harder. Bobby should feel helpless, pinned by Logan's weight, but he doesn't. Ice crystals form in Logan's hair, Bobby moves his fingers and feels them melt. Logan doesn't seem to feel them, he's generating too much heat of his own. Bobby gasps, fits the 'O' of his lips to the 'O' of Logan's, and lets himself be carried by quick, urgent thrusts. Harder still, closclose to his ears, the strange hiss of metal through skin, metal through cotton, metal through the mattress, and Logan's buried.

"Fuck" when Logan loses it, heaves and pants, trying not to collapse on Bobby, only his claws supporting him.

"Fuck" when Logan loses it, and Bobby's head jerks with his own orgasm. The strange hiss of metal through skin, and searing pain.

Another "Fuck" when Bobby loses it, and Logan forces open heavy lids to see a line of red, almost black, across one pale cheek. "Bobby.. Bobby, open your eyes." The claws disappear, skin heals instantly. Logan pulls away, pushes on Bobby's knees until they fall, and removes the condom. He leaves it on the sheets somewhere behind him, doesn't care about the mess. It's his room, isn't it? Bobby groans, and Logan remembers tenderness, reaches to stroke his thumb over Bobby's closed eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Cut mysel Bob Bobby whispers, wonders how many fa of of Logan he still has to see. His cheek stings, Logan's left him breathless and sated, ice forming under fingers that clutch the sheets.

"I see that."

"Can I stay?"

Logan looks down the length of Bobby's body. He won't admit it aloud, but he thinks it's beautiful. "Don't you have a class to go to?"

Bobby opens one eye. "Are you serious?"

"No, are you?"


"Then stay."


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