Not Now, Please

“So… how long you been doing that?” Logan asked with a slight gruff to his deep voice.

He and Hank were standing outside on the balcony connected to Hank’s bedroom, a few stories above the entrance and main corridor. Logan assumed Hank chose this space to be his because it was quiet, reserved, away from prying eyes. That theory seemed to fit his idea of this younger version of Hank, anyways. The cool wind blew across their faces, brushing them with a delicate chill that reddened their noses. They were leaning against the balcony rail, looking over the field into the vast forest beyond. Charles’ school truly was a beautiful sight, even without considering the building itself. The stone mansion was built upon acres of untouched, wild land that seemed to expand forever. Logan liked it here, with this young Charles and even Hank. He liked the peace that emanated from the walls of the school, maybe due to nostalgia and the memories he had made here. Realizing he had been thinking for minutes without a response from the younger man, Logan turned his head to look in Hank’s direction.

Hank sighed deeply, “Don’t do that.” He told the older man, though his command sounded more like a pitiful request.

Hank was tired, exhausted from the trip and the fight and the mental throes that came with it. He was angry, at Erik, at Raven, but mostly at himself. He couldn’t fix anything. Couldn’t save anyone. Even now, standing out in the dim light of the moon with someone from the future next to him, all he could think about was what he had looked like. Sounded like. Acted like. He hated every minute he had to spend inside of his own meat suit. He was embarrassed, too. He was a grown man throwing a fit and hurting himself because what? He didn’t like what he was met with in the mirror? Pathetic, really. ‘And anyway, what business is it of this guy’s?’ He thought to himself, side-eyeing the man to his side. ‘He thinks, what, that this will be some bonding experience? I don’t even know him. Plus, he doesn’t seem like the comforting type. He’s only here because Charles sent him after me. Because he couldn’t stand to do it himself.’ His thoughts were negative, he knew. He was being harsh and he knew that, too. He would love to admit that he couldn’t help it, but he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He knew so many things, yet was in control of so very little. All this knowing, and where did it get him?

“Do what?” Logan asked, perking his eyebrow up in genuine inquiry.

Snapping back to the present, Hank retaliated, “The thing where you act concerned when really you aren’t. And, honestly, it’s fine that you don’t care. Preferred, even. Just don’t pretend to try and get me to open up to you, or, whatever.” He explained, profusely refusing eye contact with the metal-clawed man. His words came out harsher than he meant, but he was tired of being gentle and patient. He was just tired.

Logan scoffed at his reply, “Come on, you really think I’d be up here with you if I didn’t care? You think late-night touchy-feely chit-chats are my go-to? No. That’s not my thing, kid. I don’t do the warm soft thing. I’m just worried about you.” He paused for a second, then, “The Hank I know- knew- will know- whatever-” He grunts, and after a moment, reorients his thoughts and continues, “He isn’t… like this. He doesn’t act like you, you know? I guess I’m just a little thrown off is all.”

Logan looked off to the side after getting his words out, ‘why is this so difficult?’ he thought as he similarly refused to look the other man in the eyes. He decided that this somewhat immature behavior could be due to the fact that he felt a little guilty for what had happened with Hank. After all, he didn’t know how his visit to the past could affect the people here. That was really why he had asked Hank the original question in the first place. If this was Hank’s first time, it could definitely be Logan’s untimely visit’s fault.

Hank sighed again, longer, quieter. Less aggravated and more accepting, like he was giving up a fight he went into knowing he would lose. “It’s been a few years, maybe.” He states, looking up over the balcony and watching the clouds float aimlessly in the dark sky. The side of his mouth twitched when he spoke, almost like a nervous gesture.

Logan nods in understanding, subconsciously feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. ‘So it wasn’t my fault… good to know.’ A few minutes of silence pass before Logan realizes he might have needed to say something. ‘Sorry? Oh? That’s rough?’ He was in unfamiliar territory here. And he could smell the anxiety radiating off the other man in waves, crashing against him hard. He needed to do something.

“Uh, look this isn’t really my thing, ok? But, I am sorry. I… I know what it’s like to- to want to do that to yourself. Y’know, hurt yourself.” Logan eventually spoke up, his tone gentle and softer than usual. Hank looked at him at this, surprise written over his face. Logan keeps forgetting that Hank doesn’t know him in this time. Oh well. He was going to find out eventually, even if it was supposed to be in a few decades.

“I- I don’t know what to say… I’m sorry. I’m sorry you feel-” Hank started, reaching a sympathetic arm out to the bigger man.

Logan batted his arm away, scowling. “Are you serious? I’m trying to comfort you! You can’t just turn it around on me like that.” He hissed, brows furrowed and muscles tight.

“Wh- sorry I didn’t mean to- I- I wasn’t trying to-” Hank stuttered out, fidgeting with his hands as his nerves took control of his limbs. It was like he was short-circuiting. His mouth didn’t know how to cooperate with the very coherent sentences his brain was trying to translate.

Logan watched Hank flail around his own awkwardness for a few rather painful seconds, and then made a haste, in-the-moment decision.

Hank was trying to explain himself still, “I was just trying to show you that I acknowledge your pain and-” He was cut off by the older man swiftly bringing his arms over Hank’s shoulders and embracing him.

It was quite rough, and forceful, and felt more like a yank and a clutch that he couldn’t really escape, but it was… comforting. In an odd way. The sudden impact was nice, and rather stimulating, it helped distract him from his previous stammering. Hank blinked a few times, dumbfounded, before registering what was actually happening. When he finally realized that this was Logan’s idea of a comforting, supporting action, he decided to go along with it. Not that he had much of a choice, it seemed. He slowly brought his arms up along Logan’s back, reciprocating the gesture. He was hesitant, his hands slow and shaky. It had been a long time since Hank had hugged someone. Years, even. He allowed Logan to hold him. He felt kind of childish, really, but he appreciated the warmth of the other man pressed against him. Logan was strong, built, shorter than Hank, but sturdy. He felt safe and surprisingly comfortable in the older man’s arms. He breathed out the gulp of air he had lodged into his chest in the beginning of their talk, his shoulders slumping and body relaxing with the exhale. Logan must have noticed his change in demeanor, as he repositioned himself to cradle Hank rather than squeeze the life out of him. Hank closed his eyes and pressed himself into the embrace fully, gripping at the back of Logan’s worn-down shirt and shoving the side of his face into the man’s shoulder.

Logan smiled softly at the younger man in his arms, holding him close. He hadn’t known what to expect from the scientist, really. Hank was always kind of odd, and apparently more so in this timeline. He supposed it made sense, that younger Hank would be more awkward and less sure of himself, it was a shock to the system nonetheless. Hank seemed so… fragile here. In his arms, clinging to some sense of security, someone who can tell him, ‘it’s going to be okay.’ Logan felt like a fraud, slightly, because he couldn’t honestly and surely tell Hank that. In his universe, or timeline, or reality- whatever it was, his world- Hank is gone. He’s dead. Hank isn’t okay and neither is the state of the world. Hell, that’s why he’s here. Because everything isn’t okay. Looking down at the younger man now, seeing how raw and exposed he was in this moment, Logan began to feel that familiar sense of grief pull at that damned organ in his chest.

Dr. McCoy had been one of Logan’s closest friends. They weren’t just X-Men, or just teammates, they were companions. They had tea late at night, and Hank would explain the insanity that was the science behind Logan’s ‘beautiful mutation,’ as the doctor had dubbed it, while Logan resisted falling asleep from boredom. He was a huge nerd, and a real Beast in combat- pun intended. He was intelligent, wise, strong, patient, gentle, kind- all the things Logan wasn’t. And now, looking back, he hadn’t even been there when Hank went. He was just… gone. Logan assumed he’d never see the Beast again, until taking a trip to the past… and here he was. Currently holding his dear friend who doesn’t even really know him yet. Trying to provide a sense of comfort and guidance to a young man who desperately needs it, but not knowing how. That was Dr. McCoy’s thing, not Logan’s.

“Hey, Logan.” Hank said quietly, not moving from his place in the other man’s arms.

Logan, drawn out of his thoughts, a bit more misty-eyed than he’d ever care to admit, looks down in acknowledgement. “Hmm?” He hums, giving Hank the necessary cue to continue.

“It’s going to be okay.” Hank told him resolutely, moving his head from his place on Logan’s shoulder to make direct eye contact with the shorter man.

Logan looked at Hank, a little shaken, “What?”

Hank smiled and looked down for a moment before making eye contact again. “I said, ‘it’s going to be okay.’”

Logan kept the baffled look on his face a minute longer before huffing out a sigh of disbelief. “You’re kidding me, right?” He asked, a little stupefied.

Hank chuckled at the other man’s reaction, placing his hand on Logan’s toned muscle, “No. I can smell you too, you know. Whatever happened, we can change it. It’s going to be okay, I know it.”

Logan quirked his brow comedically at the smell-comment, but let it go. He couldn’t believe it. Even after everything that’s happened, even though he is decades younger, Hank still has those damned resolute, confidence-inspiring words of wisdom. His phrase, albeit younger and less defined, still rings in Logan’s ears the same way his dear friend Dr. McCoy’s did. Logan smiled at the younger man, genuine and tear-stricken, and quickly embraced him once more.

Logan went in for another hug, this time his arms came under Hank’s, gripping his waist for what seemed to be dear-life. Even in such vulnerable, heartwarming moments, Logan was a soldier through and through. Hank let out a grunt at the impact but returned the hug with just as much force. This embrace was much shorter, ending after only a few seconds, but it seemed the two had made strides in their relationship. Hank opted for not mentioning the obvious tears behind the Wolverine’s eyes, as he’s sure Logan caught a glimpse or two of Hank’s own.

“So, do you want some tea?” Logan asked the younger man, hastily wiping his eyes and sniffing his nose.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Hank replied, a dorky smile on his face as his eyes lit up just a tad bit more than Logan had yet seen in this reality. The two walked to the kitchen, being mindful not to wake Charles, who was probably fast asleep by now- if he was lucky. Hank prepared his favorite tea, Oolong, while Hank picked out black tea. The two took the warm mugs back out to the balcony and conversed into the hours of the night.

Logan had forgotten how well he and Hank got along, even if this Hank was much younger than he was used to. He was passionate and energetic when talking about some preposterous theory he had read about, and he was intrigued by some of Logan’s stories from the future. Logan decided it was probably best to leave ‘internet’ out of the conversation, in fear that Hank would simply implode. They spoke so easily with each other, both eagerly and patiently listening when the other spoke.

After a while of talking, Hank realized he quite liked Logan’s company, and even began to consider him a close friend. He was curious about the older man’s world, of course, but it was more than that. Logan was familiar. The way he spoke and his gestures and movements, his emphasis on certain words and his dramatic retelling of stories. Hank felt a weird sensation in his chest when he realized that Logan almost began to feel like… family.