Logan found himself back in the sterile, cold lab, lying on the same gurney he had woken up on earlier. The familiar, stark white light overhead hummed softly, casting sterile shadows around the room. He tried to suppress a growl as the young doctor moved around him, first padding down his limps,then gluing another set of electrodes to his broad, muscular torso. Logan’s eyes narrowed, studying the young man’s face with an intensity that seemed almost predatory. Benji’s dark eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, his lips pressed into a thin line as he carefully affixed the electrodes to Logan’s skin, his touch gentle and almost hesitant—like he feared he might cause pain if he pressed too hard. Logan felt the soft brush of Benji’s fingers trailing across his chest, leaving a strange warmth in their wake.

Benji avoided Logan’s gaze, his eyes flicking anywhere but directly at him. Logan could understand that; he had nearly choked the young man earlier. But somehow, the avoidance unsettled him more than it should have, a gnawing irritation that prickled at the back of his mind. A few feet away, Jean stood behind a monitor, her eyes vigilant, watching every move between him and Benji like a hawk. Logan could feel her wariness—she was more than just a second opinion here; she was a guard, ensuring he wouldn’t lash out at her colleague again. Logan could´t blame her, he wound´t trust himself either.

The silence was thick, almost suffocating. Logan, uncomfortable with it and the lingering guilt gnawing at him, finally spoke up.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, his voice breaking through the tense quiet.

Benji’s hands paused, and his fingers brushed lightly over a cable he was adjusting, his touch feather-light. “Sorry for what?” he asked softly, still not meeting Logan’s gaze. His fingers were like whispers against the cords, calm and controlled.

Logan nodded toward the faint red mark circling Benji’s throat, a ghost of the earlier violence. “For hurting you.”

Benji finally looked down at him, his eyes softening as he met Logan’s intense gaze. “It’s alright,” he replied, a small, understanding smile forming on his lips. “You didn’t mean to.”

The sincerity in his voice was disarming, and Logan found himself unable to argue. There was something almost too trusting in those words, a belief that Logan didn’t quite feel he deserved. He’d always meant to hurt people. It was the only way to survive. But for some reason, the thought of hurting this young doctor filled him with a strange kind of guilt.

Trying to deflect the awkwardness, Logan let a smirk tug at his lips. “Couldn’t wait to get my shirt off again, huh?” he teased, his eyes following Benji as he walked over to stand beside Dr. Grey. He was half-joking, half-testing the waters, wanting to see if he could make the young man blush again.

It worked. Benji’s cheeks reddened slightly, a flustered expression crossing his face. “Please remain still,” he said, his voice a touch firmer as he adjusted his glasses and nodded to Jean.

Jean pressed a button, a bit more forcefully than necessary, and the gurney sped into the MRI machine, the cold metal swallowing Logan up in darkness. A series of lights blinked to life one by one, encircling his body like a ring of electric eyes. Logan lay still as instructed, his muscles tense, as the machine began to hum and click around him. He felt the magnetic waves scanning his insides, and the sensation was oddly unsettling, like his bones were being exposed to the world.

When he was pulled out again, he was greeted by Benji’s eager face hovering over him.
“You are remarkable!” Benji exclaimed, his words almost sounding like a compliment, but the sadness in his eyes told a different story.

Logan’s brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you know that your entire skeleton has been coated in Adamantium?” Benji asked, his tone gentle but filled with a gravity that sent a chill down Logan’s spine.

“Adamantium?” Logan echoed, his voice flat, hiding his growing unease.

Benji nodded, his expression serious. “An alloy known to be one of the strongest substances ever discovered. The MRI shows it’s been surgically grafted to your bones. Whoever did this to you…they made you into something unbreakable, but at a cost.” His voice lowered, almost to a whisper, and he leaned closer. “May I… read your body?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Benji leaned in further, his gaze locking onto Logan’s with a mix of authority and compassion. “Just like our minds, our bodies hold memories. I can read them. It’s part of my power. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

There was a vulnerability in Benji’s voice that caught Logan off guard. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” he said gruffly, his voice rough.

Benji placed his hands on Logan’s shoulders, his palms warm and unexpectedly soft. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Logan felt a strange tingling sensation start at his shoulders and spread through his body, like an electric current was flowing from him to Benji. It was neither painful nor pleasant, just… strange.

Suddenly, Benji’s eyes flew open, and he recoiled, withdrawing his hands as if he had been burned. “Oh my!” he gasped, his breath ragged, his face pale.

Logan’s eyes sharpened with concern. “What is it?” he asked, his voice gruff but edged with genuine worry.

“The Adamantium,” Benji said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s poisoning you. If it weren’t for your mutation—your healing factor—you would have died on the operating table. And your body… it’s healed thousands of times. Your cells are screaming in agony.”

Logan’s expression darkened. “Can you tell who did this to me? Where I come from?”

Benji shook his head, regret evident in his eyes. “There’s too much pain… too much trauma. It clouds everything, like a thick fog. But from what I’ve felt, you’re much older than you look. Don’t you remember anything from your life before?”

“Not a single thing,” Logan muttered, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and resignation.

Benji sighed deeply. “Unfortunately, experimentation on mutants isn’t anything new. I’ve seen cases from different time periods—atrocities done in the name of science. But I’ve never seen anything like you.”

Logan managed a bitter smile. “Looks like I’m quite unique.”

Benji returned the smile, though his was softer, tinged with empathy. “I’m certain you are,” he said, his voice gentle, almost comforting while offering a fragile sense of connection that Logan hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

-X-

There was something magnetic about Benjamin Xavier that Logan couldn’t quite shake. The young man had an energy that pulled him in, and Logan found himself deeply fascinated, his eyes following every movement. As Benji moved around the guest room, his presence seemed to light up the space. With a flick of his wrist, he switched on the lamps one by one, each soft glow casting warm highlights over his young features. Logan felt a deep commection simmering in his chest, making it almost feel like it was crackling with electricity whenever Benji turned to steal a glance at him. It was like Benji had left a mark on his body as he had read it, as if he had touched his soul and it now needed readjust.
His curiousity still unsatisfied, Logan only half-listened to his explanation about the room’s comforts and the general amenities of the mansion. His mind was elsewhere, caught up wondering what else the other mutant was capable of and was brought back to the present only when Benji turned fully toward him, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“My room is right across the hall,” Benji said, his voice low and inviting, still so welcoming it was almost impossible for Logan to handle that level of kindness “So if you need anything, feel free to come knock.”

Logan’s lips curved into a smile. “I’ll make sure to remember that,” he murmured, his tone strangely thick with implication. He took a moment to pretend to inspect the room—the bed, the windows, the closet—though his attention was wholly on Benji. It was a thinly veiled excuse to be near him, to drink in every detail of his presence that could tell him more about his intentions.
“So you’re a telekinetic and an empath?” Logan found himself  asking, his voice casual but laced with genuine curiosity.

“Something like that,” Benji replied, watching Logan with those deep, captivating eyes that seemed to see right through him.

“What else can you do?” Logan pressed.

Benji’s lips quirked in a faint, almost teasing smile. “I’m a fast learner, if you will,” he said, his tone light but mysterious. “I also have some telepathic abilities.”

“Like the professor?” Logan arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Not as powerful, but yes. He’s teaching me.”

Logan took a slow step closer, his gaze never leaving Benji’s. He lowered his voice, a rough, sensual edge slipping into his words. “I’m sure he is.”

He closed the distance between them until he was standing right in front of Benji, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. Logan could see the rapid rise and fall of Benji’s chest, could hear the slight hitch in his breath. He liked that—the effect he had on him. “So, read my mind,” Logan offered, his voice a deep, velvety challenge. He knew he was enjoying himself a little too much.

Benji’s breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly as he looked up at Logan, his gaze caught between caution and something more. “It’s better if I don’t,” he breathed out, his voice trembling with restraint.

So, the strange attraction was mutual. Logan couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across his face. “Come on,” he teased, leaning in a little closer, his breath brushing against Benji’s skin. “Afraid you might like it?”

Benji gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Logan could see the conflict flicker in his eyes. Then, Benji shook his head softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m afraid I might stir it.”

Their gazes locked, a silent dare hanging in the air between them. Logan’s eyes flicked over Benji’s face, searching for any sign of hesitation, any reason to pull back. But he found none. He only found an invitation. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Benji raised his hands until his fingertips rested lightly against Logan’s temples. The touch was so gentle, so careful, that Logan leaned into it instinctively.

Benji let out a slow, heavy breath, his eyes focusing intensely on Logan’s for a moment before closing. The sensation that washed over Logan was strange, like a whisper brushing against the edges of his mind, searching, seeking. It was an oddly tender moment, filled with tension and a sense of connection that felt almost too intimate.

Then, the moment shattered. Cyclops appeared in the doorway, his figure backlit by the hallway’s harsh light, his presence immediately disrupting the charged atmosphere. Benji’s eyes snapped open, his hands dropping from Logan’s face as if he’d been caught doing something forbidden. Logan felt a sudden, unwelcome emptiness where Benji’s touch had been, a hollowness that he instantly blamed on the interloper.

“Jean is looking for you, Ben,” Cyclops announced, his tone clipped and almost possessive. Logan could have sworn that, even behind those dark, protective glasses, Cyclops’s eyes were glaring daggers at him.

Benji, visibly flustered, nodded quickly. “Oh, okay,” he stammered, clearly thrown off by Cyclops’s sudden appearance. He glanced back at Logan, his voice dropping in a shy tone again. “Good night, Logan,” he said, and then he hurried out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Cyclops stepped aside just enough to let Benji pass, then he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossing over his chest. Logan could see the tension in the set of his jaw, the way his lips thinned in a tight line. Logan bit back his irritation and forced a smug, mocking smile onto his face. “You here to tell me to stay away from your boy toy?” he drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Cyclops’s lips twitched in a scowl. “He’s not my boy toy,” he snapped back, his voice taut with hostility. “I’m with Jean.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, catching the undercurrent of jealousy in Cyclops’s demeanor. “Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered, his grin widening as he watched Cyclops bristle.

Cyclops straightened up, his posture tense, and his voice lowered into a more serious tone. “Stay away from him,” he warned, his words sharp as a blade. “He doesn’t need a mud like you dragging him down.”
Logan huffed, “If he doesn’t need me, you have nothing to fear”

With that, Cyclops turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Logan standing in the doorway, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he watched him go. If Cyclops really thought he would listened to him, he could never be more wrong. The only one who could tell him to stay away was Benji himself. And from what they just shared, Logan was confident he would never.