Logan stared down at the main hall in disbelief. Being mutants wasn't enough? They actually felt the need to dress up for Halloween? He would have figured that Nightcrawler and Beast would be satisfied just as they were, but they were just as decorated as the other children and staff.

Logan's eyes picked faces out of the crowd, rolling his eyes at some and just stopping to stare at others. Beast hadn't changed much, opting to go for a werewolf, or something similar. Storm was a witch, and Jean Gray was, surprisingly, dressed as a bar maid. That skirt shouldn't really be legal, he thought idly, swallowing as he tore his gaze away from those long, slender legs.

Ice Cube had dressed as a vampire, and spent his time chasing the girls and freezing the punch bowl. Even Chuck had joined in the festivities, though he just looked like a college professor. Still, it was different, and Logan chuckled lightly when the old man glanced up at him, having sensed his presence.

Logan, for his part, was just dressed in the usual. Faded jeans with natural tears and holes in them fit his hips and ass snugly, slipping into low-heeled cowboy boots. A white wife beater was covered by a warm flannel shirt that was left unbuttoned. The material was well-worn, and as soft and comfortable. All he needed now was a cowboy hat, and he'd fit right in, he thought wryly.

He sensed the other man's presence before he heard him. Gambit walked quieter than a damn mouse, and Logan turned to train dark eyes on Remy as he sauntered up to him, a small smile quirking his lips, his crimson eyes alight with amusement and appreciation. Logan raked appraising eyes over him, and then growled protectively. "I'm gonna have to beat 'em off with a stick, Cajun," he growled, and Remy tilted his head back and laughed.

"Ah, you do know how to flatter a man, non?" he asked charmingly, smiling gratefully at his lover. Bending down just a little bit, he kissed Logan lightly on the lips, the action gentle and chaste. Logan purred and wrapped his arms around Remy's neck, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. Remy pulled back only for a moment, startling Logan, before giving in and kissing him back just as hard.

Cheers, claps, and wolf whistles broke up the moment, and Logan pulled back abruptly, surprised. He had forgotten that everybody was downstairs, enjoying a party, and that they were supposed to be down there, too. They were completely visible up here on the landing, and if Logan was prone to embarrassment, he would have been blushing by now.

Remy just grinned down at their audience and swooped down into an elegant bow. "T'anks. Pretty, isn't he?" he teased, and was answered with whoops and laughter. Grabbing Logan's hand, Remy pulled him down the stairs and into the midst of the party. They were welcomed by their friends easily enough, and soon the party was back in full swing.

Logan eventually drifted off towards a corner of the room, content to watch the people most important to him having fun and relaxing. It wasn't often that the Institute held a party, so when Professor Xavier gave the okay, everybody went all out for the occasion.

Logan's eyes kept drifting back towards Remy, who was thoroughly enjoying himself, flirting with the girls and chatting up some of the boys as well. He left behind a lot of blushing faces, and more than a few disappointed ones, and Logan smiled. Remy was his, and nobody else was allowed to lay claim to him.

Comfortably in the darkened corner of the room, away from the worst of the noise and the crowd, Logan tracked Remy with his eyes, his ears alert for anything out of the ordinary. The Cajun was wearing skin-tight leather, and had opted to forgo his typical trench coat. Rather than having solid sides, the leather was held together at strategic points by silver o-rings that sparkled and glinted in the light from the chandeliers, showing tantalizing glimpses of smooth skin.

His eyes were done with a heavy black liner, his face appearing more exotic than Logan had thought would be possible. His crimson eyes shone out from the surrounding dark like rubies, sparkling as the natural seducer broke loose and enjoyed himself. Logan had never tried to curb Gambit's inclinations towards flirting and seduction, because they were an integral part of him. Asking him to stop flirting would be akin to asking Logan to quash his wanderlust. It couldn't be done, and the attempt would make both of them miserable, which was the last thing Logan wanted.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Logan admired Remy's long legs encased in all that black leather. The pants led into a pair of knee-high boots, also made of leather, with thin black ties that wound up the back, ending in a small bow just below his knees. Remy's hands were encased in fingerless leather gloves, and his shirt was made of a smooth silk material that had been left half-unbuttoned, revealing a tantalizing strip of pale flesh as he moved and flirted and danced.

Entranced by the stunning, breathtaking picture his lover made, Logan was only vaguely aware of the shift in mood, but it was enough. Suddenly on high alert, Logan's sharp eyes roamed the main hall. Sensing nothing amiss, Logan slipped to the side and headed for the outdoors. Something felt wrong, but it seemed like even the Professor hadn't noticed it yet. So Logan would go and check it out, and if it was anything that needed their involvement, he'd call the Professor. Riiiight.

Slipping out the front door, Logan's eyes rapidly adjusted to the darkness. There was a full-moon tonight, and the sky was littered with stars, which made the transition easier, but it also made him very clearly visible to whoever was out here. His gaze roaming over the property, Logan caught sight of a large form moving quickly along the edge of the yard, near the gates. He growled. Sabertooth.

Leaping lightly down the stairs, Logan padded over towards Sabertooth, who had stopped just on the other side of the gate, smiling ferally at Logan. Looked like Victor wanted a fight, Logan thought grimly. Figures that he'd have to pick tonight, when Logan would much rather be inside where it was warm, and where he could stare at his lover and just enjoy the happiness that had suffused the entire Institute.

Sabertooth was going to pay for ruining his evening, Logan scowled fiercely. Not bothering to open the front gates, Logan reached up and climbed them swiftly, hopping easily down onto the other side, bracing for impact. As soon as he landed, Sabertooth was in front of him, but he had anticipated the immediate attack and was already throwing himself backwards, away from the wall that surrounded the Institute.

"Shouldn't you be off scarin' little punks somewhere?" Logan growled, his claws sliding out with a quiet 'snikt'. Sabertooth just bared his fangs and launched himself at Logan, who ducked under the leap and swiped his claws across the blonde's abdomen. Sabertooth snarled at the sudden pain, but he was grinning manically, his eyes alight with battle lust.

"Awww, the runt doesn't want to fight?" Sabertooth jeered. "Are you having too much fun in there? Or is that cheap little whore that's caught your attention?" he taunted. Logan growled, seeing bright red as he attacked, fury lending him strength as he forced Sabertooth to take several steps back, slicing up his arms and hands as he did so. Sabertooth just laughed, knowing he had hit a sore point.

"He's in there seducing all the men, too, isn't he? You certain you should be out here, runt?" Sabertooth grunted, taking a swipe at Logan and sending him flying into the nearby trees. Logan hit with a crunch and a snarl, and was back on his feet, the bruises and scrapes from his contact with the rough tree bark already fading.

Muscles tense, he and Sabertooth circled, Logan trying to calm his rage and think rationally. Charging in recklessly had never won him a fight against this particular mutant. Sabertooth was stronger than Logan, and he was bigger. Logan's smaller size made him lighter, and gave him an edge in speed, but neither of those things would do him any good if he just rushed in without thinking.

Sabertooth continued to taunt him. "Tell me, runt, did he fuck you out of pity? Or because he didn't have a choice? Did you force him the first time?" Logan snarled, the words stabbing deeply. He had warned Remy almost a month earlier that he played rough, and was afraid he might hurt the other man. Remy hadn't cared, and had in fact encouraged him in his pursuit.

The first, and only, time he had bedded the Cajun had been hard on both of them. Gambit didn't heal like Logan did, and so when he was hurt, it took him a while to recover. And when Logan came down from his high, and saw how badly he had hurt his partner, the guilt overwhelmed him, and it took Remy several hours to bring him back around. Still, Logan's fear hung over them, and they hadn't done more than share a bed and a few kisses since then.

"Oh? I see. You hurt him, didn't you? Heh. I told you we were more alike than not," Sabertooth grinned maliciously. Logan growled, but it was helpless sort of growl, because he knew that Sabertooth was right. He couldn't control himself when it came to mating, didn't know how to be gentle, how to keep from hurting his partner.

Sabertooth's next attacked caught him in the ribs, and Logan grunted as he was thrown across the grounds, skidding along the grass before coming to a rest. He picked himself up, but his reaction time had slowed, and Sabertooth was on top of him all of a sudden, grinning triumphantly as he choked the breath out of Logan.

Logan reached his hands up and gripped tightly onto Sabertooth's wrists, trying to drag them off of him, but Sabertooth just laughed at the attempt. "What? No claws, runt? Or did you want to die?" Logan glared up to him, his claws sliding back out as he released Sabertooth's wrists, preparing to drive his claws into the larger mutant's sides.

Quicker than he had expected the brute to be, Sabertooth had his wrists pinned above his hands, his claws rendered useless as his remaining hand tightened around Logan's throat. Logan struggled, but already his body was demanding the air that would not come. Sabertooth pinned him to the ground, keeping him from twisting or bucking, chuckling as Logan's vision slowly darkened. When he woke up – if he woke up – he was going to kill the son of a bitch, and enjoy every moment of it.

Suddenly, a loud crack sounded right above him, and Sabertooth's body was forced off of his with a snarl. Blinking to clear away the spots in front of his eyes, his bruised throat already healing, even as he gulped in much-needed air, Logan rolled onto his side, looking up to see Gambit standing there, his trench coat thrown over his outfit as he glared across the field at Sabertooth, a handful of charged cards in his hand.

A quick flick of his wrist sent the cards flying to land just behind Logan, who winced at the loud noise, but rolled forward, climbing quickly to his feet. Gambit wouldn't forgive him if he let his efforts to save him go to waste, after all.

"Well, well, if it isn't the runt's bedmate," Sabertooth laughed, and Remy flinched, crimson eyes flickering briefly to Logan, who couldn't hide the pain that the other mutant's words caused. Logan watched as Remy put two and two together and came up with four, his eyes narrowing in anger. Some of it was directed at Logan, but most of it was meant for Sabertooth.

"Ah don't see where t'at's any of your concern, Sabertooth," Remy scowled, sending a few more cards flying. These ones landed to Sabertooth's right, and he jumped out of the way, right into Logan's claws. As the adamantium sliced across his side, Sabertooth snarled and took a swipe at Logan, who ducked, pulling his claws back out with a sharp twist that made Sabertooth wince.

Grinning manically, Sabertooth wisely retreated, but not before taking a last shot. "If you wanna know why the runt plays rough, just keep this in mind. I was his first," he laughed, quite obviously pleased with himself.

Logan saw red; Sabertooth had no right to bring that up! Not after the way they had parted. Darting forward, Logan would have pursued the bastard, but he was stopped by arms around his waist, wrapping around him from behind, a head pressed firmly against his back as Remy dug his heels in, stopping Logan's forward momentum. Unwilling to fight the Cajun, Logan threw his head back and screamed his rage to the heavens, howling and snarling, adamantium blades clawing at the air until long after Sabertooth was gone.

When he finally calmed, Remy brought them both to the ground, twisting so that Logan was leaning against his chest, panting with his eyes closed as he tried to steady his heartbeat. He was murmuring nonsensical words in his native language, and Logan let the words soothe him. Remy hadn't pushed him away yet, which he took to be a good sign, his body slowly relaxing as Remy rocked them both.

Once he was deemed calm enough, Remy opted to talk, one hand stroking gently through Logan's hair, occasionally scratching along his scalp. "How badly did he 'urt you?" was the first question, and Logan frowned. What sort of question was that? It was Sabertooth. Wasn't that an answer in and of itself?

Still, he figured he ought to try and at least answer the question. "It hurt, but I healed. The pain never lasted, and it was all I knew at the time. We had always fought, even before we started having sex" – he refused to call it making love – "and so it was a natural progression. But because I healed, it didn't matter to me if he was rough. At least, not at the time, it didn't," he admitted softly, as if afraid to spill his secrets into the open air.

Remy just tightened his hold on him and kept up the steady rocking. It was an unusual feeling for Logan, who was so used to doing the comforting, rather than being the one who was comforted. It was a nice feeling, though, and it reassured him. "It didn't matter until after we had broken off, and I found myself attracted to a woman. The first time I bedded her, I very nearly killed her. I was too rough, my grip too tight, nails digging into sensitive flesh."

Logan trailed off, trying not to remember the fear in the woman's eyes, the urge to dial 911 if only she could move enough to do so. "I turned myself in that time," Logan murmured. "Called an ambulance for her and turned myself in to the cops. It wasn't a good time for me," Logan muttered. The cops had been worse than the inmates had been. At least with the other prisoners, he knew where he stood. He left them alone, they'd return the favor, usually.

The cops, on the other hand, would beat him just because they could, because he'd heal almost immediately so that they could claim that they hadn't ever touched him. A couple of them even tried to rape him, but he had put a stop to that real quick. Guilt or no guilt, he wasn't going to just take whatever they wanted to do to him. The beatings, he dealt with, because he understood them, and because he healed from it. He hadn't cared at the time whether or not their punishments killed him, but he had known that they wouldn't.

Deciding to skip over that entire period of his life – a relatively short one, considering how long he had lived – Logan sighed. "It was the same with a man. He'd catch my eye, chat me up, try to bed me, and wind up hurt. But I quickly found that men could handle my rough behavior better, that some of them even expected it, or enjoyed it, more than they probably should have."

"But about three decades ago, I lost my last lover to cancer, and haven't had one since. I'm always real choosy about who I take to my bed, and I don't like hurtin' them," he growled, his words growing choppy as his guilt returned. "Like I hurt you, Cajun. I don't know how to be gentle."

Remy tilted his chin up with his hand, until Logan met his gaze, and then he smiled. "You didn't finish de sentence, mon amour," he murmured gently. "You don't know 'ow to be gentle. T'at doesn't mean you don't want to learn, though, righ'?" he asked softly. Logan nodded at the accurate assessment. "'ave you ever considered bein' on the bottom?" Remy asked next, and Logan blinked.

Remy met his gaze calmly, and Logan frowned. Had he ever considered being on the bottom? Yeah, he had, but he couldn't make himself do it. He couldn't give up the control that he'd need to in order for it to work out. He had promised himself that he'd never, ever give up control again. It left him open and vulnerable to being hurt.

"Ah," Remy said softly, and Logan's dark eyes snapped up to stare at him, curious. "Sabertooth topped?" he asked, his voice gentle and his eyes reassuring. Logan hesitated only a moment before nodded, and Remy sighed at the confirmation. "Ah see. T'at would explain why de Wolverine doesn't like to give up control," he smiled.

Looking down at Logan, his expression grew serious as he asked, "Do ya trust me, Logan?" There was no hesitation this time as Logan nodded. He trusted the Cajun, perhaps more now than before. He had stuck with Logan after being hurt by him, and had listened to everything Logan had told him, and not flinched. Instead, he had remained a steadfast presence, persistent and patient as he waited for Logan to come around.

"Trus' me now, mon amour," he murmured, "And Ah'll show you 'ow good it can be, 'ow to be gentle, and to make love to your par'ner." Logan nodded readily enough; he could do that. He could give up enough control to let Remy take the lead.

His eyes warm and affectionate, Logan responded, "Then teach me, Cajun. Teach me everything!" Stretching up and forward, he kissed Remy there on the lawn, under the moon and stars, the costume party forgotten. As Remy bore him to the ground, he closed his eyes and surrendered. Remy was his, and he was Remy's. So for tonight, he'd hand Remy the reigns and let him be the teacher, and guide him in this ritual.

Still, he had one more question, and he was determined to get an answer. Breaking from the kiss, and doing his best to ignore Remy's wandering hands, which were doing the most pleasurable things to his body, Logan gasped out, "Who're you supposed to be?"

Remy just stared at him blankly for a moment, before grinning roguishly. "Why, you can't tell that Remy was dressed up like Adam Lamber'?" His crimson eyes glinted in amusement, and Logan tilted his head back and roared with laughter.

Reach up, he wrapped his arms around Remy's neck. "You're much prettier than he is," he growled out approvingly, and Remy rewarded him with a bright, genuine smile and another kiss. Logan hummed approvingly, his arms falling to his sides. Yeah, Remy was definitely prettier.