Chapter Text
PAST: Manhattan
Scott sat cross-legged on the carpet, a book open in front of him, while Remy lounged nearby, half-heartedly flipping through his notes. The low hum of life filled the space, punctuated by the soft purring of three cats sprawled around them—Oliver, Figaro, and Lucifer.
Figaro stretched luxuriously on Scott’s lap, his tiny paws kneading into Scott’s jeans as he let out a contented sigh.
“You’re spoiled, you know that?” Scott murmured, scratching behind Figaro’s ears.
“Don’t listen to him, mon chat,” Remy chimed in, cradling Oliver in his arms. The sleek gray cat blinked lazily at Scott, clearly unimpressed by the remark. “Figaro’s just well-loved, ain’t that right, cher?”
Scott chuckled but returned his focus to the index cards scattered in front of him. “Alright, Remy. One more time. What’s the definition of consideration in contract law?”
Remy groaned, slumping dramatically onto the couch as Lucifer, the grumpy black tabby, leaped onto his chest. “You tryna kill me, Summers? I ain’t built for this much brain work.”
“Stop being dramatic,” Scott said, trying to hide his grin. “Come on. You’ve got finals today. Let’s nail this.”
Remy sighed, holding up a hand. “Fine, fine. Consideration is… uh, somethin’ of value exchanged between parties. Gotta have it for a contract to be valid, yeah?”
“Exactly.” Scott smiled, setting the card aside. “See? You’re getting it.”
“Barely,” Remy muttered, rubbing his temples as Lucifer climbed onto the back of the couch, swishing his tail. "Wish Rachel was still around to help. She's the reason why I've been failing this semester".
Scott glanced at him sympathetically. Rachel had broken things off shortly after Remy adopted the cats, leaving him juggling law school, job, heartbreak, and a newfound obsession with Oliver, Figaro, and Lucifer.
“You’re doing fine,” Scott reassured him. “You just need to focus. And hey, the cats are great study partners, right?”
Remy snorted, lifting Oliver so they were face-to-face. “You hear that, Oli? You’re gonna help me graduate.”
In the kitchen, Logan was leaning against the counter with his phone pressed to his ear, listing off groceries to Kevin, who was on the other end of the call. Victor, Logan’s brother, sat at the table, chewing on the last slice of pizza while Kevin’s voice crackled faintly through the speaker.
“You ate it?” Kevin’s indignant tone came through loud and clear.
“Yeah,” Victor replied, not a shred of remorse in his voice. “You weren’t here to claim it.”
“That was mine, you overgrown bear!” Kevin protested.
“Don’t leave your food unattended, then,” Victor shot back, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.
Logan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Can you two knock it off? I’m trying to finish this grocery order.”
Victor shrugged, his sharp grin widening. “Can’t blame me if the runt doesn’t know how to guard his food.”
As Logan hung up the call, Victor turned to the pile of mail on the counter. He rifled through the stack, tossing aside bills and flyers until something caught his eye. “Hey, Logan,” he said, holding up a thick envelope. “You know a Mr. Jacobs?”
Logan frowned. “Yeah, he owns the bar. Why?”
Victor handed him the letter. “Looks like he’s looking to sell the place. Says he’ll be back in the States in two weeks to talk about it.”
Logan’s brows furrowed as he opened the envelope and scanned the contents. Kevin, having returned from his argument via phone, leaned over Logan’s shoulder. “What’s that about selling the bar?”
“Jacobs is thinking about selling,” Logan said, his voice even. “Wants to talk to me about it since I’ve been running the place while he’s been gone.”
Kevin’s eyes widened. “Dude, you’ve basically been keeping that place alive for the past year. You should buy it.”
Logan scoffed, folding the letter and setting it aside. “Yeah, sure. Let me just check my couch cushions for the cash.”
Victor grinned. “Come on, little brother. You’ve got the chops for it. Hell, you’ve already been running the show. This is just making it official.”
Kevin nodded enthusiastically. “He’s right. You know the staff, the regulars love you, and the place is actually profitable for a change because of you. This is a no-brainer.”
Logan sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned to Kevin, narrowing his eyes. “Speaking of the bar, you set everything up for tonight, right?”
Kevin grinned. “Of course. The decorations are up, the chips, peanuts, sodas, and cake are all there. Everything’s good to go. It’s going to be a hell of a party for Scott’s lecture and Remy’s finals.”
Logan smirked faintly. “Good. Better not screw it up. I want it to be perfect for them.”
Kevin clutched his chest mockingly. “Boss man has such a soft side. Don’t worry, Logan. The place is ready to go, and the cake’s the good kind.”
Logan rolled his eyes but looked satisfied.
Scott chose that moment to enter the kitchen, carrying Figaro in one arm and Remy trailing behind him with Oliver and Lucifer. “What’s going on in here?”
“Logan’s gonna buy the bar!” Kevin announced gleefully, clapping Logan on the back.
Scott’s eyes widened in surprise, then lit up with excitement. “Really? That’s amazing, baby!”
Logan raised a hand, shaking his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not a done deal. I’ve got to crunch the numbers first.”
Scott set Figaro down gently on the counter and approached Logan, his expression still bright. “Still, it’s a big opportunity. I think you’d be great at it.”
Logan gave him a small smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “We’ll see.”
Scott glanced at the clock on the microwave and straightened. “I’ve got to get ready for my lecture. Remy, you’ve got finals today, right?”
Remy groaned. “Don’t remind me. But yeah.”
“Then let’s get moving,” Scott said, heading toward the door. He paused, turning back to Logan, and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Good luck with everything, okay?”
Logan nodded, watching Scott and Remy leave the kitchen. As the door closed behind them, Victor smirked.
“You know, Summers is right,” Victor said, crossing his arms. “You’d be damn good at running that bar.”
Logan huffed, shaking his head as he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. “We’ll see.”
The bar hummed with low music as Scott and Remy stepped through the door. Scott tugged at the collar of his suit jacket, trying to shake off the nerves from his lecture earlier that evening, while Remy clutched his backpack, a victorious grin plastered across his face.
“I still can’t believe you aced those finals,” Scott said, laughing as he patted Remy on the back.
“Believe it, cher,” Remy replied, swaggering forward with his usual flair. “Ain’t nobody better under pressure than me.”
Their conversation trailed off as they stepped further into the bar, and both men stopped in their tracks, their jaws dropping slightly. The space was decked out with string lights, balloons, and a congratulatory banner that read: “To Scott & Remy: Cheers to Success!”
The room was alive with people—Logan, Kevin, Victor, Jean, Ororo, Marie, and her brother Kurt were scattered around, along with a handful of Scott and Remy’s law school classmates.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Scott muttered, blinking in surprise.
“Didn’t see this one comin’,” Remy admitted, his grin faltering slightly when his eyes landed on Marie, who was standing by the bar, laughing at something Kurt was saying. The brief flash of awkwardness on her face when their eyes met didn’t go unnoticed.
“Scott! Remy!” Jean called, hurrying over with Ororo in tow. “Congratulations! The lecture and the finals—we had to celebrate!”
Scott rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
Jean raised an eyebrow. “Logan insisted,” she said, gesturing toward the bar. Logan was behind the counter, pouring drinks with practiced ease. His rugged charm was on full display as he smirked in their direction and gave Scott a subtle nod.
Scott felt a warmth rise in his chest. “He did, huh?”
“’Course I did,” Logan called, his gruff voice carrying over the noise. “Had to make sure you two had a proper celebration.”
Remy laughed, shaking his head as they approached the bar. “You’re full of surprises, Howlett.”
Kevin leaned against the counter, already a drink in hand. “Told ya it’d be good,” he said to Logan, clinking his glass against Victor’s.
Victor, however, was already several drinks in, barely upright in his seat as he muttered something incoherent.
As the evening went on, Scott and Remy made the rounds, greeting classmates and thanking everyone who had come. Remy and Marie exchanged a polite, somewhat stiff hello before quickly retreating to opposite corners of the room. Kurt watched the interaction with raised eyebrows but said nothing, sipping his drink in peace.
The celebration stretched late into the night, and eventually, people began trickling out. Jean, Ororo, Marie, and Kurt were among the last to leave, the four of them giving Scott and Remy hugs before disappearing into the cool night air.
By the time the bar emptied, only Logan, Scott, Kevin, and Victor remained. Victor and Kevin were slumped together in a corner booth, too drunk to function, while Logan and Scott busied themselves with cleanup.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Scott said as he wiped down the counter. “But… thank you. It means a lot.”
Logan shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You deserved it. Both of you.”
Scott hesitated, feeling the familiar pull in his chest as he glanced at Logan.
Logan grabbed a bucket and some tools, gesturing toward the back. “Gotta check the restroom. Victor broke the damn sink again.”
Scott laughed, shaking his head. “Of course he did.”
Logan disappeared into the restroom, leaving Scott to finish wiping down the counter. But after a few moments, curiosity got the better of him, and he followed.
Pushing open the door, Scott found Logan crouched by the sink, inspecting the damage. “Need any help?” Scott asked, leaning against the doorframe.
Logan glanced over his shoulder, a playful smirk on his lips. “Nah, just gotta patch this up for now. You can babysit the drunks if you’re bored.”
Scott chuckled but didn’t move. His eyes lingered on Logan’s broad shoulders, the way his shirt stretched taut over his back. Logan must have felt the gaze because he straightened, turning to face Scott fully.
“You look so hot in that suit,” Logan said, his voice low and rough.
Scott’s breath hitched, heat rushing to his cheeks. “You think?” he asked softly, unable to hide his surprise.
Logan stepped closer, his hazel eyes locked on Scott’s. “Yeah.”
Before Scott could respond, Logan closed the distance between them, capturing Scott’s lips in a hard, intense kiss. Scott immediately reciprocated, his hands reaching out to grab the front of Logan’s shirt.
Logan pressed him back against the restroom wall, his hands firm on Scott’s waist. His kisses moved to Scott’s neck and collarbone, his tongue tracing warm, deliberate paths over sensitive skin. Scott let out a soft moan, his fingers raking against Logan’s shoulders and down his back.
“Logan,” Scott murmured, his voice breathy and needy.
Logan growled low in his throat, his hands wandering lower until he felt the growing heat between Scott’s legs. Scott shuddered at the touch, a louder moan escaping him as Logan’s hand teased him through his suit pants.
“You like that?” Logan murmured against Scott’s collarbone, his lips brushing against the skin as he spoke.
Scott’s head tipped back, his breathing ragged. “Yeah… yeah…”
Scott’s hands found their way to Logan’s chest, then down to the hem of his shirt, gripping it tightly. Logan pulled back just enough to look at him, his gaze dark and filled with want.
Scott leaned forward, his lips brushing against Logan’s ear as he whispered, “Fuck me.”
Logan’s breath hitched, his grip on Scott tightening. He captured Scott’s lips again, his hands sliding lower.
PRESENT: England
Scott stepped inside the main cabin alongside Hank his steps careful as he tested his ankle. It was still slightly numb from the morning hike, though he did his best to mask the discomfort.
“You’re limping,” Hank observed, his tone lightly chastising.
“It’s nothing,” Scott assured him, brushing off the concern. “It’ll be fine by tomorrow.”
Hank wasn’t convinced. “You’re stubborn, you know that? If it gets worse, I’m getting Jean to check it.”
Scott smiled faintly, though his focus was already drifting. Across the room, Logan stood near the bar, talking to Kevin and Remy’s older brother, Robert. A couple of Remy’s cousins had joined the group, their boisterous laughter drawing attention.
Scott’s gaze lingered on Logan, his mind replaying the moment from earlier that morning.
"You know the reason… you’re the reason."
The words echoed in his head, bringing with them a rush of emotions he wasn’t ready to unpack.
“Scott?” Hank’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Scott blinked and turned to his friend, who was eyeing him with suspicion. “Sorry, what?”
Hank smirked knowingly. “Nothing. Just wondering where you drifted off to.”
Before Scott could reply, a familiar voice called out, “Ah, mes amis! You’re here!”
Remy approached them with his usual flair, arms wide as he pulled both men into quick hugs. “Welcome, welcome! Glad you could make it. And just in time for some wine!”
Scott chuckled, shaking his head. “Congratulations, Remy. This place looks amazing.”
“Merci, but it’s all Marie’s doing,” Remy replied, waving off the compliment. “She’s the mastermind behind this whole thing, although I suppose she only nod at whatever Kurt and Kitty were asking her. I just show up and smile.”
Hank raised an eyebrow. “And the bachelor party? Was that her idea too?”
Remy grinned mischievously. “Non, non. That’s all me. An hour after dinner. Don’t worry, no strippers—Kurt vetoed it.”
“For the better,” Scott said with a small laugh, exchanging a look with Hank.
Remy handed them each a glass of wine. “Now, find your seats. Marie made the arrangements, so don’t blame me for anything... surprising.” He winked before slipping away to greet more guests.
Scott frowned slightly, confused by Remy’s comment, but he shrugged it off and followed Hank toward the table assignments. His confusion turned to dread when he spotted his name card.
There it was: Scott Summers, placed neatly beside Logan Howlett.
Hank gave him a sidelong glance, clearly noticing Scott’s discomfort. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Scott muttered, though his pulse quickened as he moved to his seat.
Logan arrived a moment later. He nodded at the group and sat down beside Scott, his movements calm and deliberate.
“Hey,” Logan said quietly, his voice low but carrying. “How’s the ankle?”
“It’s fine,” Scott replied, his tone clipped but not unfriendly. “Thanks for helping earlier.”
Logan shrugged, brushing it off. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”
From across the table, Kevin leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched the interaction unfold. He sipped his wine slowly, clearly enjoying himself.
“Not gonna drink that, Logan?” Kevin asked, motioning to the untouched glass of wine in front of Logan. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed it, swirling the liquid lazily. “No? Lucky me.”
Logan shot him a flat look but didn’t protest.
Scott, distracted by the conversation, reached for the glass at the same time as Logan, assuming it was his. Their hands brushed against each other, the unexpected contact sending a jolt through Scott’s arm.
Both men froze, their fingers still resting on the glass. Scott’s breath hitched as the warmth of Logan’s calloused hand registered, painfully familiar despite the years apart.
“Sorry,” Scott mumbled, pulling his hand back quickly.
“It’s fine,” Logan muttered, his voice quieter than before.
The moment stretched unbearably long, interrupted only by Alex’s exaggerated clearing of his throat. Scott glanced at his brother, who was staring pointedly at their hands with a raised eyebrow.
“Interesting seating arrangement,” Alex remarked, his tone dripping with disapproval.
Scott ignored the comment, busying himself with his glass of wine. Logan, however, glared at Kevin, who was now grinning like the cat that caught the canary.
Before anyone could comment further, Kitty’s voice rang out, accompanied by the clink of a spoon against her glass. She stood at the front of the room with Kurt by her side, both of them smiling brightly.
“Everyone! If I could have your attention, please,” Kitty began, her tone cheerful. “Kurt and I would like to say a few words to celebrate this amazing couple—Remy and Marie!”
The room quieted, all eyes turning toward the couple of the hour. Scott exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, grateful for the distraction.
As Kitty and Kurt began their speech, Logan leaned over to a nearby waiter, gesturing toward the table. “Can I get another glass of wine?” he asked, his tone low but polite.
The waiter nodded and disappeared, returning a moment later with a fresh glass, which Logan accepted with a murmured thanks.
The speech wrapped up with a heartfelt toast to love, and the room erupted into applause. Scott lifted his glass avoiding Logan’s gaze as the clinking of glasses filled the air.
Scott sat on the edge of his bed, carefully folding a stack of neatly pressed shirts. The cabin’s small bedroom was lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, casting warm light over the partially packed suitcase resting open on the floor.
Two days. Two days, and he’d be back in Chicago, back to his routine, and away from… everything.
His fingers hovered over the collar of a shirt, pausing as the memory of Logan’s voice from earlier that morning echoed in his head.
"You know the reason… you’re the reason."
Scott closed his eyes briefly, his chest tightening. The truce they’d established was meant to make the week bearable, to keep things civil until the wedding ended. But it had done more than that—it had unearthed emotions he thought he’d buried for good.
A soft knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. “Scott?” Jean’s familiar voice called from the other side.
Scott straightened up, pushing his suitcase slightly to the side. “Come in.”
Jean stepped into the room, dressed casually in comparison to the elegant gown she wore at the rehearsal dinner a couple of minutes ago,
as she shut the door behind her and leaned against the frame, arms crossed.
“Packing already?” she asked, her tone light but curious.
Scott gave her a small smile. “Yeah. I figured I’d get a head start since I’m leaving in two days. The less I have to do at the last minute, the better.”
Jean tilted her head, studying him. “You’ve been quiet since dinner. Something on your mind?”
Scott hesitated, his hands fidgeting with the hem of the shirt he’d just folded. “Not really,” he said, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears.
Jean raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his weak attempt at deflection. She moved closer, taking a seat on the bed beside him. “Come on, Scott. I know you better than that. What’s going on?”
Scott sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s nothing, Jean. Just… thinking about how this will all be over soon. It’s weird, you know?”
Jean’s gaze softened. “You mean the wedding? Or something else?”
Scott looked down at his hands, avoiding her eyes. “This. All of it. Seeing everyone again. Being here.” His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “Seeing Logan again.”
Jean didn’t respond immediately, giving him the space to find his words.
“We’ve been… fine,” Scott continued, his tone distant. “This truce we have—it’s working. We’re being civil. Amicable, even. But once the wedding’s over, that’s it. I’ll go back to Chicago, and he’ll go back to his life, and… that’s the end of it.”
Jean frowned, her expression gentle but firm. “And you don’t want it to be the end of it, do you?”
Scott’s throat tightened, but he managed to nod. “No. I don’t.”
The silence stretched between them for a moment, heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, Jean broke it.
“Scott,” she said softly, “Be honest with me, are you still in love with him?”
Scott didn’t answer right away. His hands gripped the fabric of the shirt in his lap, his gaze fixed on the floor. When he finally spoke, his voice was weak, barely audible. “Yeah, I am.”
Jean placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Then tell him.”
Scott shook his head, his brow furrowing. “Telling him won’t change anything. It doesn’t mean we’ll get back together or that we’ll figure things out. There’s too much—too much history, too much that’s broken.”
Jean’s eyes narrowed slightly, her voice firm but not unkind. “Don’t fool yourself, Scott.”
Scott glanced at her, startled by her bluntness.
She softened her tone, her expression compassionate. “At least telling Logan how you feel will bring you both the closure you’ve always needed. But honestly?” She smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with something hopeful. “I think the outcome will be a lot better than you think.”
Scott’s heart twisted at her words. He frowned, unsure of whether to feel comforted or more anxious. “What do you mean?”
Jean stood, brushing nonexistent dust off her pants. “I mean,” she said, a playful smile tugging at her lips, “that I should grab my purse. The girls are expecting me for the bachelorette party in town.”
Scott opened his mouth to press further, but Jean was already heading toward the door. She paused, turning back to him. “Think about it, Scott. Don’t let this be the end if it doesn’t have to be.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving Scott alone with his thoughts and the half-packed suitcase at his feet.
He leaned forward, running a hand through his hair as her words echoed in his mind.
“Don’t let this be the end if it doesn’t have to be.”
The cabin buzzed with energy as the bachelor party kicked into full swing.
Remy was at the center of it all, his laughter carrying above the clamor as he convinced Bobby to join him for an ill-fated karaoke duet.
“C’mon, Bobby!” Remy urged, thrusting a microphone into Bobby’s reluctant hands. “This is my night! You can’t say no to me!”
Bobby groaned but climbed onto the makeshift stage anyway. “Fine, but don’t blame me when everyone’s ears start bleeding!”
Scott Summers watched from a corner of the room, holding a drink he hadn’t touched in a while. He couldn’t help but laugh as Remy and Bobby launched into a wildly off-key rendition of Livin’ on a Prayer. Bobby’s voice cracked on the high notes, and Remy’s thick Cajun accent turned the lyrics into an unrecognizable drawl.
“Dear God, make it stop,” Alex muttered beside Scott, though he was smiling despite himself.
“Never,” Kevin chimed in, raising his glass in a mock toast. “This is the entertainment we deserve!”
The room erupted into cheers and laughter as the song ended with a dramatic finish, Bobby and Remy bowing like they’d just performed a sold-out show.
“Alright, alright,” Kevin called, taking the mic and waving for everyone’s attention. “Time for a game! Let’s make things interesting.”
Scott raised an eyebrow as Kevin grabbed a bottle of tequila and a stack of shot glasses. “Never Have I Ever,” Kevin announced with a grin. “And we’re playing with shots. Don’t wimp out.”
The group settled into a loose circle, filling their glasses as Kevin readied the first question from his phone.
“Alright,” Kevin began, his voice carrying a mischievous edge. “Never have I ever… slept with someone older than me.”
Scott, Kevin, Hank, Remy, Bobby, Alex, and Robert all took their shots, earning a round of laughter and knowing smirks. Kurt, sitting primly at the edge of the group, crossed his arms and shook his head.
Kevin smirked as he continued. “Never have I ever… had sex in a public place.”
The laughter grew louder as nearly everyone but Kurt reached for their glasses. Logan, seated across the circle from Scott, answered nonchalantly, “My bar's restroom.”
Scott froze mid-laugh, his face instantly heating up. He avoided looking at Logan, instead focusing intently on the rim of his glass. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck, the memory of those nights with Logan inside him, moaning and groaning in his ear telling how he was his pretty boy while nibbling at his earlobe, flashing unbidden in his mind.
Remy whistled low. “Classy, Logan. Real classy.”
Logan smirked but said nothing, his hazel eyes flicking briefly toward Scott before returning to his drink.
Kevin, clearly enjoying himself, read the next prompt. “Never have I ever… given someone a fake number.”
A few of the guys drank, laughing at the memories. Bobby snorted. “Gotta love college parties.”
Kevin grinned, reading the next one. “Never have I ever… cheated on my significant other.”
The room fell quiet. No one drank, but the silence was heavy.
Scott’s gaze drifted toward Logan, and he realized Alex was doing the same. Their eyes met for a brief second before both returned to Logan, who sat motionless, his expression unreadable.
Scott felt a numbness settle over him. His fingers tightened around his glass, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched Logan’s face for any sign of dishonesty. Logan’s hazel eyes were calm, steady, and painfully honest.
It hit Scott like a punch to the gut. Logan had told him the truth almost six years ago, and he hadn’t believed him.
His vision blurred as tears welled in his eyes. A couple escaped, trailing down his cheeks before he could stop them.
Logan’s sharp gaze flicked to Scott, his brows furrowing slightly. “Scott—”
“I’m fine,” Scott said quickly, his voice tight and strained. He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he excused himself. “I need a minute.”
The room fell silent as Scott left, the door creaking shut behind him.
Hank started to rise. “I’ll check on him.”
“No,” Alex said firmly, already on his feet. “I’ll go.”
Outside, Scott leaned against the railing of the cabin’s porch, staring out of the faint shimmer of moonlight on the lake.
His breaths came in uneven gasps as he struggled to collect himself.
Alex found him moments later.
“You okay?”
Scott laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Not really.”
Alex moved closer, leaning against the railing beside him. “What happened in there?”
Scott wiped at his eyes, though the tears kept coming. “I don’t know why I believed you and Gabe,” he said, his voice breaking.
Alex stiffened. “Scott—”
“You told me Logan cheated,” Scott interrupted, his tone laced with pain. “You told me he was lying, and I believed you. I let you and Gabe convince me to walk away from the one person who—” He stopped, his throat tightening as more tears escaped.
Alex’s jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face. “We were trying to protect you,” he said quietly. “Gabe and I—we thought we were doing the right thing.”
Scott turned to him, his eyes red and filled with anguish. “It wasn’t the right thing, Alex. It was cruel. And now… now I don’t even know if I can fix it.”