Work Text:
FIRST LIGHT
by Techie
I woke suddenly to see Logan sitting on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair.
He looked better - somewhat.
At least he didn't look like he was waiting to welcome death.
I watched him, facinated by the elegant movements of his hands, the unreadable look on his face, the play of emotions reflected in his eyes.
He was beautiful.
Not just handsome.
Certainly not merely attractive.
Beautiful.
Logan glanced back at me, and my tentative empathic touch bounced into - something.
Flicked back, away, before I could fully sense what happened.
The man cocked his head, nostrils flaring a bit, brows furrowing, almost like a wolf scenting the air.
Reaching out, I lightly caressed over his knuckles, saw his eyes turn toward me, and threaded my fingers through his, watching his response.
"Logan?" It wasn't exactly a question, but I felt the tension of his muscles, then the relaxation. Almost too quick to be noticed, but it made me think.
Did Logan equate touch to pain?
I lightly caressed his hand, fingertips against his warm skin.
Tension.
Relax.
My heart ached then, because I knew.
In Logan's tormented past, his body knew touch only as a precursor to pain, to being hurt.
He hid it well, but I knew - I knew that no-one had ever tried to reach out and bring his body pleasure, to get past the long isolation that kept him numb and aching.
"I won't hurt you." I whispered it in his ear, and his eyes closed, breathing picking up just a little. Slowly, I ran my fingertips along his arm, up to his shoulder. "It's all right." I soothed, as he tensed, like a wary predator not sure of what was coming. "Let me show you, Logan." I kept using his name, so short for such a complex, beautiful man, to keep him with me. His eyes came up, met mine, and I knew what I was asking.
Trust was a fragile thing - so difficult to win, so easy to break.
I kept caressing his arm, not moving my hands lower or higher, just softly touching him.
His eyes were closed, and his head cocked slightly, then tilted back.
I felt a scar near his wrist, faint but there.
Was it from Weapon X, where he learned how vile a human being could be to another?
Did they teach him that touch, contact, was pain?
If not, they certainly hammered the lesson home.
And I hated them, so burning hated them, for that.
"Logan, listen to me?" I made it a request, gently, into his ear.
He turned his head, breathing still a tiny bit faster than normal. His eyes - beautiful, golden eyes - were dialated a little, emphisizing their color.
"Touch...it hurt you, didn't it?"
Logan's head tilted back defensively, ready to back away, clear his personal space, perhaps crack a joke.
Distance himself.
I watched him, heart breaking, making no sudden moves.
Then, "Yeah." It was a choked sound, and he frowned a little at the hitch in his voice.
I made a soothing sound, my fingertips caressing his forearm, over his knuckles, up the inside of his arm. Predictable, loving, gentle movements, not rushed or harsh, just letting him know where I was, what I was doing.
He watched a long moment, gaze changing from guarded to puzzled.
"It can be beautiful." I said it softly, saw his gaze flicker a moment, but despite it, he was still listening - and more importatnly, he hadn't wrenched his arm out of my grasp. "Touch, it can be wonderful."
Logan's arm gave the faintest shiver, and I caressed the tension away, still moving slowly, but relishing the warmth and power leashed there.
"Will you let me show you?" I leaned a little closer, showing the back of my neck, letting him know I wasn't a threat, in voice and action. "Will you let me touch you?"
His breath came in just short of a gasp, but he was staring at me, expression strangely bewildered.
I caressed up to his shoulder, down the back of his arm, along his knuckles again.
He looked down, at where my hand rested on his own, then back up into my eyes.
Though not sure what he saw, I leaned a little closer, slow and careful, and he let me close.
I felt an inward flare of warmth and told him, in a voice full of love and soothing, "I'll never hurt you. I'll tell you before I do anything - and we'll learn what we need, if that's what you want."
Logan's voice was faintly choked. "Yeah." he breathed it out, as if afraid to let me - and more afraid not to.
I stroked his arm lightly, and with infinate tenderness, I began.
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