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Usually, being at the controls of the Blackbird would help calm Scott’s nerves, but it wasn’t helping this time. Although he had tried to bury it as far down as he could, there was still a distracting, fluttery, churning feeling in his stomach.
Behind him, the four others were sitting, two on each side of the jet, and were talking through the events of their mission. Jean and Hank were discussing the computer system they’d destroyed, and Scott could hear Storm’s soft voice as she compared notes with Logan about the fight. Every so often Logan would throw a barbed, teasing comment Scott’s way, and each time Scott didn’t respond. They probably assumed that he was too caught up in thinking about the mission debrief, and they would be partly right. The practical, logical part of his mind was running through the events of the night, trying to figure out if he’d been careful enough, quick enough, and done the very best that he could have.
But he also couldn’t help thinking about Logan and how he was running out of time. The moment the Professor announced the New Year fancy dress party was going to be “in pairs”, Scott knew exactly who he wanted to go with. The idea had gotten under his skin, and had defied all his efforts to compartmentalise it. He and Logan, at a fancy New Year party. Just the thought of it made his heart beat all the faster.
It wasn’t as if he’d wanted to feel like this about a man who continually pushed back against his orders and his authority; and they still fought like cat and dog. But somehow - in spite of the near constant verbal sparring and the miasma of cigars and beer - Scott had found himself drawn inexorably to the man’s steadfast nature, his loyalty and commitment to his friends and his innate animal magnetism. That and his amazing physique and the fact he looked like a movie-star. The more Scott had tried to deny it to himself, the more intense the attraction grew.
Everyone felt Logan’s presence. And that was Scott’s current dilemma. Because after the Professor had informed the School about the party, it felt as if everyone was vying for Logan’s attention. Suddenly, it seemed that Logan was never alone. Everyone seemed to be seeking him out whenever they could. There had been quiet conversations in the library with Kurt, private coffees in the kitchen with Ororo, training sessions with Hank, trips to the mall with Jean. Scott had wanted find a way to connect like that, to find common ground that didn’t involve arguing or bickering with each other, but he’d failed. They weren’t “friends”; Logan had never treated him like he treated everyone else. He poked and pulled and challenged Scott like it was his favourite hobby. Every conversation became a competition. It would have been easy to brush it off as just Logan being Logan if Scott hadn’t found him so attractive, and if he wasn’t so desperate for Logan’s friendship.
But instead, he’d just found himself getting more consumed by the crazy hope that maybe Logan might like him too. Scott was no expert in flirting, but perhaps the teasing, the wolfish grins, the arguing and Logan’s constant need for Scott’s attention meant something more than the idea that Logan just enjoyed pissing him off. It was highly unlikely, but once Scott let the idea into his mind, it refused to be forgotten. Not knowing was going to be unbearable. However painful the answer, Scott had to find out and asking Logan to that party presented the perfect opportunity to find out.
The first two times Scott tried to ask, he’d choked. Logan had been alone - or as alone as Logan got around the school when not surrounded by an infuriating gaggle of his adoring teenage fan-girls - once in a classroom, once at the corridor at the top of the main stairwell. Scott could have just come right out and asked ‘do you want to go to the New Year party with me?’. But he hadn’t. The words had gotten stuck at the back of his throat, then he had frozen like one of Bobby’s ice statues, as if he was a starry-eyed, love-struck teenager. Then, just to add to Scott’s frustration, there had been a pop and a puff of sulphur and Kurt had materialised close by, reminding Logan about their session in the Danger Room. The chance had gone, leaving Scott with the horribly familiar feeling of disappointment.
Third time, Scott thought it would be easier to ask him while they were somewhere without the kids around: in the meeting room downstairs, after a mission debrief. In principal the idea had been sound, but the next mission itself had been a near disaster, everyone was in a bad mood, especially Logan who had taken the brunt of the violence. Scott might not have the best understanding of interpersonal interactions, but even he knew that the correct response to a furious, blood-spattered man wearing a shredded uniform growling out “I need a goddamn case of beer” is not “come to a party with me”. So he’d muttered something non-committal and let Logan stomp off.
A day later, when Scott had tried again, he’d been interrupted just as he’d managed to get Logan on his own. There had been an urgent telepathic alarm from the Professor, and they’d had to rush off to get changed into their uniforms and go out on another mission.
That had been five days ago. Scott hadn’t had any chance to talk to Logan since and he was starting to feel that the universe was trying to tell him something: that it was a foolish dream and he should give up and let sleeping Wolverines lie. Maybe it didn’t matter how he felt about Logan, because maybe Logan liked everyone else better than him. Maybe he was just imagining that there was something there, underneath the snark and constant back-talk.
Besides, did he really want to go to the party anyway? Fancy dress had never been his forte. But this felt like an opportunity to express his feelings for Logan in a way that wasn’t too overwhelming, somewhere familiar, and where he wouldn’t feel too awkward. And now he’d started he didn’t want to give up, even if he’d nearly convinced himself that he already knew the outcome.
It was such a mess of contradictions and he hated this feeling of being in limbo. It reminded him too much of the utter disaster with Jean. It had taken three years to pluck up the courage to tell her how he felt. Three years he felt he wasted pining for someone who hadn’t been interested. He’d seen attraction rather than just affection, and that mistake had twisted him up so much that he hadn’t looked at anyone else since. Until Logan burst into their lives.
He didn’t want to repeat that with Logan. He wasn’t going to pine for Logan the way he’d pined for Jean. He had to know, even if he got a fist in is face for the trouble, but that potential outcome didn’t douse the growing heat in his chest when they were in the same space, or made his lonely heart ache any less.
Somehow, he had to find out.
Scott had been so engrossed in his thoughts that the abrupt flash of the proximity light made him jolt back to the present with a flicker of worry. They were flying home, there wasn’t supposed to be any trouble, they were…
The screen showed the details of the mansion just ahead. They were a minute away at best. Somehow, as well as musing on Logan and their strange, confusing dynamic, he had managed to flawlessly pilot the jet back to the mansion without consciously having to think about it.
Landing needed his full attention, so Scott pushed notions of parties and partners out of his mind, while he manoeuvred the jet back into its hanger without so much as a bump. Once on the ground, Scott heard a relieved huff that could only have come from Logan, and smiled to himself.
Behind him, the others unbuckled themselves and gathered their equipment, ready to disembark, he didn’t bother to listen to what they were doing or saying. Instead, Scott ran through the post-flight checks and made sure his jet was none the worse for wear.
Working methodically through his mental checklist, it took nearly ten minutes before he was finished. At last, he gave a sigh and sat back, rolling his shoulders. He needed to get to the debrief with the Professor and-
Scott turned in his seat, then jumped in surprise. There was still one person left in the jet with him.
Logan.
Still sitting in his seat. Waiting. Watching him.
Scott felt his stomach drop as they looked at each other. Words formed in Scott’s head but resolutely failed to make it even close to getting out of his mouth.
Logan watched him for a moment, head cocked slightly to one side, then said, with an edge of impatience:
“Okay, Slim. Ya wanna tell me what’s got ya wound so tight this time?”
Instead of answering, Scott swallowed hard. This was getting out of hand. Logan had noticed he was acting strangely, he was probably here to tell him to stop being such a dick and embarrassing him in front of his friends.
But this was also the perfect moment to ask and know. They were alone. He was never going to get a chance like this again. And if Logan threw a punch, no one was going to see it.
Logan looked at him, his expression filled with a little confusion and, to Scott’s mind, a lot of irritation.
It’s now or never, Scott told himself. Ask him!
“Do you want to go to the New Year Party with me?” he said.
Well, that’s what Scott’s brain told him he said, but what he actually heard was “doywnagotonewyearpartywme?”
Scott cringed. For fuck’s sake, he was twenty-seven not seventeen! He had to pull himself together.
He was about to ask the question again, more coherently, when it became clear that Logan had heard him speak and understood. He blinked, slowly, his mouth half-open in what Scott took to be shock, and for a second Scott thought it was all going to go up in flames. Then Logan flared his nose and took a long deep breath. A moment later, a pleased smile spread over his face, as if he’d just found a large stash of beer. It was definitely not the usual sharp smirk he had when they were bickering. This looked completely different, and Scott realised he liked it. A lot.
“The New Year Party, Slim?” Logan asked. “Wow. Y’really do like planning ahead, dontcha?”
Blushing, Scott ducked his head, feeling utterly out of his depth.
“I wanted to ask you before anyone else did,” he admitted. “I thought, y’know, it would be fun, to go. Together.”
“Together?” Logan queried. “As in a date together?” Scott nodded. “To the New Year party?”
Only after Scott nodded again did Logan’s smile grow wider, and Scott could only stare at him. The pause was probably excruciatingly awkward, and maybe later Scott would feel that it was, but at the moment that didn’t matter. That smile mattered. That and the fact that Logan hadn’t dismissed the suggestion out of hand.
“I knew ya liked to be organised,” Logan said. “It’s one of my favourite things about ya.”
It was Scott’s turn to smile at the compliment.
“But,” continued Logan, “y’know, we could go on at date a little sooner than New Year. I mean, if y’wanna? Like, tonight? We could grab a beer. Maybe find a quiet spot to hang out together somewhere around the School.”
Scott’s heart leap at the suggestion. Tonight!
“Yes,” he replied instantly. This had gone so much better than he’d dared to dream. They were going to hang out together tonight!
Grinning, Logan pushed himself standing, stepped close and slung his arm around Scott’s shoulder to pull him closer.
“Then let’s grab some beers and go to the garage. No one will find us there.”
“We need to debrief wi-”
Logan snorted, shaking his head.
“Boy scout!” he muttered, but there was no sting in the nickname, only warmth and affection. “Okay, after seeing Chuck.”
Scott grinned back and, heart pounding, he snaked his arm around Logan’s waist. It felt a little awkward, a little different, new, but it was definitely something that Scott could get used to.
“So y’wanted to get in first before anyone else?” Logan asked as they moved towards the door.
“Did someone-?” Scott started.
Logan shook his head, still smiling like he’d won a lifetime’s supply of beer.
“Nah, ” he said. “It’s only July. No one else has even thought about it.”
End