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What I Could Do To You

Summary:

When Logan wakes up in a basement tied to a chair, the situation is decidedly not very good. Pulling against the restraints, he realizes that it’s not going to be an easy time getting out of here, not to mention the fact that he is very clearly not alone. Even in the mostly darkened room he can see a pair of eyes watching him, and he knows exactly who they belong to: The Duke.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

When Logan wakes up in a basement tied to a chair, the situation is decidedly not very good. Pulling against the restraints, he realizes that it’s not going to be an easy time getting out of here, not to mention the fact that he is very clearly not alone. Even in the mostly darkened room he can see a pair of eyes watching him, and he knows exactly who they belong to: The Duke.

The Duke has been becoming a talked-about villain in the city for months now, possessing powers Logan still barely comprehends. The extent of it is unclear, but Logan is aware that he has the ability to at least somewhat alter reality. He’d done so when they were fighting earlier, wrapping a tentacle around Logan’s leg and pulling him to the pavement. He’s fairly certain he’ll have a nasty bruise to show for that one.

Unfortunately, Logan couldn’t claim that he was overpowered by anything as intimidating as the alteration of reality; Logan had lost consciousness when The Duke clobbered him with his morning star. His head was still throbbing, though not as much as he might’ve imagined, but the ropes are tight.

“Well, aren’t you going to show yourself?” There isn’t any fear in Logan’s voice, not like with most of The Duke’s prisoners. If it surprises his captor, he makes no mention of it.

“Aren’t you just adorable, Calculator,” The Duke coos, throwing on the light switch and stepping forward.

Even being a superhero himself – Logan absolutely detests that word, it makes him feel as though the work he does is far less serious than it actually is – he has never had any interest in the pageantry of the costumes that some individuals wear. His outfit is simple and to the point. A mask that covers a great deal of his face, forcing him to wear contacts seeing as eye-glasses could very well get in the way of crime-fighting, a form-fitting navy-blue suit with an emblem of a white brain outlined in black on his chest. The necktie might be something that others find ridiculous in the outfit, but Logan’s always worn a necktie, even when in his suite.

The Duke’s costume, on the other hand, is everything Logan dislikes about super suits. It’s extremely tight – leaving very little to the imagination made of a sparkly black fabric that shimmers in the light. A green sash is tied around him as though the garb were perhaps meant for some kind of royalty, and there are designs of octopi all over the costume, the same lime green as his sash. It’s all so over-the-top, but from what Logan can tell, The Duke himself is very over-the-top so it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise.

“I’m not sure adorable would be the best way to describe me,” Logan said before glancing down at his restraints. “So…it seems you’ve got me. What do you plan to do with me?” The Duke stalks towards him as though he’s sizing him his prey, perhaps considering swallowing him hole. Logan wonders for a moment if he could do that, considering his alteration of reality. He wouldn’t put it past him.

“Look at you, all tied up and pretty like a Christmas present,” The Duke exclaims proudly, standing back with his hands on his hips and grinning wolfishly, “I’d just love to tear into you.”  

Logan doesn’t doubt that. The Duke has been known for committing some truly atrocious crimes, all of which on individuals who it could be argued deserved it. Rapists, known murders, abusers. That’s one of the reason Logan’s always had such a difficult time pinning The Duke down as merely a villain. He’s by no means a hero – considering the history of his crimes, as well as currently being in his captivity – but Logan isn’t so sure he’s the epidemy of evil either.

“Well then why don’t you?” The question evidently startles The Duke as he sees a look of confusion flicker in his eyes.

“What?”

"Tear into me,” Logan clarifies almost nonchalantly, “Why don’t you?” The Duke takes a step closer to him, a hand settling on Logan’s shoulder. The touch is burning hot and uncomfortable, what with The Duke’s long nails digging in through his clothes.

“Who’s to say I won’t, Calculator Watch? I know you’re practically powerless here, you can’t focus enough to get your shit together.”

The statement isn’t untrue. In order to fully access his powers, Logan needs to implement a great deal of concentration. His and The Duke’s powers aren’t so entirely different, all things considered. Logan’s powers also deal with manipulation, but in time rather than melting reality. He can turn back time, several hours at most, and speed it up for the same amount if he’s at his best. Freezing time is much more difficult process, and thusly something that he does not have the availability to use as frequently as he’d like.

It’s the fragility of his powers that make him looked down on by some, as well as the fact that he supposes he isn’t as sellable as some other more vocal hero’s. Princey, for instance, a friend of his in the real world, is a hero granted the ability of super-strength. He never shies away from the camera or denies attention from the press, aside from revealing his identity, of course. Logan on the other hand doesn’t bother with too much attention from others, especially not as a hero. It’s dangerous and more than anything, he doesn’t quite know how to deal with people. He can be a hero, he can save lives, but that doesn’t ultimately add to his social-skills in the least bit.

The limitations of his power combined with his inability to make himself out to be a very popular hero was what really encouraged Logan to learn as much self-defense as possible. He had become much stronger in the last few years and could take most anyone when also using his powers. Almost anyone, he supposes, glaring at his captor who grins over him.

“You haven’t done anything while I was unconscious,” Logan points out, earning a hum in response.

“That’d be low-down, even for me. Plus, that’s too boring! Where’s the fun in beating your unconscious body? The drama?”

“And now that I’m awake?” The Duke removes his hand from Logan’s shoulder, tapping a hand on his chin thoughtfully before curling the end of his moustache.

“I’m thinking…I suppose I could put out a ransom on you. But who’d be looking for Calculator Watch?” Logan knows that The Duke is trying to upset him, to play him for some kind of feeling sucker. But it won’t work, Logan would never let it. Never.

“I have allies among hero’s and you know it,” Logan says, for a moment considering he’s got back enough concentration to turn back the clock for a moment. But what would be the point? He’s still stuck to this chair with no means of escape. Not yet, anyway.

“I do, but if I did something to you now, none of them would be the wiser. I could slit your throat right now,” The Duke says, approaching a table in the room and picking up a large knife that glints in the light.

“But will you?” Logan should be afraid. Everyone’s afraid. The one’s who claim to be fearless are always screamers. Is Calculator Watch a screamer, he wonders.

“I could do anything I wanted to you,” he says, clutching the knife and bringing it to Logan’s jugular. If he pushes a little harder blood will begin to trickle down his neck and down onto the concrete. It’d stand out against the other splotches of blood on the floor, brown and dried. Maybe this place could use a little color, and crimson would do nicely. 

“Sure, you could,” Logan says, still sounding so sure of his safety, “But, as I asked, will you?”

“Maybe I’ll chop you up into little bits,” The Duke suggests, though he’s taken the knife away from Logan’s neck and is turning it over in his hand, “Or – or I could cut your tongue out of your mouth and force-feed it to you.” Suddenly, the knife that Remus had been holding turns into a human tongue, pink and wriggling like a dismembered tentacle. It doesn’t frighten Logan, he knows it’s merely one of The Duke’s tricks, but that fails to make it any less repulsive.

“I doubt that you will,” Logan says boldly, rolling his eyes as the tongue turns back into a knife, “What do you hope to accomplish having me confined like this? If you were going to do something to me, you would’ve already done so.”

“Are you calling me a coward?!” The Duke asks incredulously, the knife banging against the wall as Remus flings it behind him.

“No. I’m merely stating a fact,” Logan says. By now Remus is completely crowding any amount of his personal space with both hands digging into his shoulders, hot breath being blown in his face.

“Why aren’t you scared?!” The Duke asks, his voice sounding choked-up and dare Logan say, afraid, “Why aren’t you begging me to let you go?! Why aren’t you crying?! Why –.”

The Duke’s cacophony of meaningless questions ceases as he goes completely still, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide. It’s a wonder that Logan is able to even gain any semblance of concentration considering how loudly The Duke had been talking but Logan had to pause things, if only for a moment. Those eyes. He knows those eyes. Bright green and wild. How hadn’t he realized before, how could he be so dense not to see it?

“– are you so stupid? Huh? Oh – you fucking froze me, didn’t you? Why, you little –.”

“Remus?”

The Duke – Remus – stares at him, his mouth agape and eyes full of what Logan can only call fear.


“What…what’re you talking about? Who’s Remus?” Remus had never been very good at lying, always one to be upfront about the truth no matter how ugly, so him attempting to play dumb is no exception.

“You are,” Logan says, sure of himself, cursing his brain for not connecting the dots sooner. “I – I can’t believe this. You have his eyes. How couldn’t I tell that you have his eyes?” Remus blinks, taking a step back from Logan and letting go of his shoulders, his arms falling like limp noodles at his side.

“Whose eyes did I steal? I mean, I can’t say that isn’t something I wouldn’t do, but I don’t seem to remember.” Logan wishes Remus would stop acting this way. It’s not going to get them anywhere productive.

“Roman’s. You have your brother’s eyes.” And it seems that was what it took to finally click things into place.

“L-Logan?” Logan sighs, seeing the wide, deer-caught-in-headlights look in Remus’s eyes, an expression that was so strange to see in him.

“Yes. It’s me.”

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Logan Croft? You’re Calculator Watch how the absolute fuck – oh my god. My brother used to call you Calculator Watch in High School – Jesus Christ!”

Remus looks as though he’s going through a sudden mental break down and Logan can’t say he feels too far off from that. After all, it’s been years since they’ve seen each other unmasked.

It wasn’t too bold to claim that Remus and Logan had almost been friends once upon a time ago. Being the twin brother of Roman, Logan saw Remus around at school and spent some time with the two brothers. Remus had been chaotic, even then a bit too much to handle sometimes, but it was all so strange now, facing one another in such a strange situation. Logan’s tied to a chair in Remus’s basement, for Christ’s sake.

Throughout his life, Logan has had a rather complicated relationship with his emotions. Most of the time he’s bold enough to claim that he doesn’t have any, but at this point even he knows that’s bullshit. Especially locking eyes with Remus Knight again…it’s been so long. They’ve both changed so much, and yet, here they are. How much have they changed really?

“I had no idea…Roman’s never said anything. I always wondered…”

“What happened to me?” Remus says, his voice strained and weary, lacking its usual buoyancy. Look at Logan, thinking about how Remus “usually” sounds, as though he knows him anymore. He doesn’t. and he doesn’t want to, either. Of course he doesn’t. Such a desire would be preposterous.

“Yeah, I think Roman might wonder the same thing. I’m sure he has a hunch of what’s become of me, but if he does he’s never cared to mention it. We haven’t spoken in years.”

Logan wishes more than anything that he wasn’t tied to this damn chair.

“Remus I... I wondered what had become of you. I tried to find you for some time, but you were so hard to track down. I – I can’t believe we’ve faced each other without knowing.”

“Why would anyone look for me?” Remus’s voice is raw and wounded, far more so than it appears he’s intending to sound, “Clearly my brother didn’t. He’s a big hot-shot now, god, of course he is. He’s always been so desperate for attention, and he’s the one with the flashy powers. All I’ve got is this,” Remus said, holding out his hand that sprouted human eyes.

Logan can’t argue on Roman’s behalf. The twin’s relationship had always been dubious to say the least and Roman hadn’t mentioned his brother in years. It wasn’t to say that Logan had ever forgot about Remus, far from it, despite how much he might’ve wanted to. Logan had become so busy in life and his line of work that thoughts of Remus simply failed to occupy his thoughts as much as they used to. And oh, how they used to.

"Your powers, while maybe not conventionally attractive to most people, are still just that: powers. You can do something that most people can’t, you’re gifted, and you can use that to your advantage.” Remus scoffed, tilting his head and glaring at Logan with a stare that burns right through him.

“Why are you saying this? I’ve got you tied up, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not even for kinky reasons! God, I wish it was…” Logan feels his face flush despite how much he wills it not to. How is it that even now, he’s helpless? He’d been so sure that it was gone, but everything’s coming swelling back at full force. This man has hurt people, he’s killed, and yet Logan can’t help but become swept up in memories of the past. When did he become such a sap?

“Why did you capture me, Remus?” Remus shrugs.

“I dunno, bored I, guess. I did it because I could; I’m unpredictable like that!”

Remus is trying, in vain, to sound unphased. He’s doing everything in his power to appear menacing, to paint on a toothy grin that’ll make Logan’s stomach churn. Except none of that is going to work, not knowing what he knows now.

“And what is it that you plan to do with me?” Remus’s smile drops.

“Well, now that you know who I am guess I’m gonna have to kill you!” Remus says it gleefully, as though the idea of ending Logan’s life will bring him immense joy. Logan couldn’t pin-point the lack of fear he felt in The Duke’s presence, but it all makes sense now. Remus won’t kill him, he’s almost certain he won’t even hurt him past the minimal damage he’s already done.

"You wouldn’t do such a thing.” Remus knits his eyebrows together, a twisted, pained expression settling over his face.

“How would you know what I am or am not capable of? I’ve done things you can’t even comprehend.”

“You’ve killed bad people, Remus. Individuals who I doubt will be missed.”

“I’m surprised at you, I would think you would argue all murder is a no-no.” Logan rolls his eyes.

“I’m not Patton. I recognize that there are exceptions to every rule, even that of murder.” It’s strange, Logan breathing out the name of an individual who they once both spent time together. He can see it weighs on Remus too, thinking of their past together.

“You don’t know the things I could do to you, Logan,” Remus says, standing over him and pressing an accusatory finger into his chest, “I could just rip you apart.”

Logan doesn’t want to indulge it, doesn’t want to admit it, but Remus’s voice is steeped in want. He’d know it anywhere; even now he remembers the way that Remus spoke to him, how there was always something sinisterly unspoken between them. There have been many moments in which Remus and Logan have wanted each other and this is no exception.

“What do you want to do to me?” The question throws Remus for a loop, it’s evident for the look of hopefulness that crosses over his face.

“Well, saying would spoil all the fun, now wouldn’t it? I don’t know why I’m even indulging in this conversation. You’re a very boring prisoner, do you know that?”

“My apologies,” Logan dead-pans. Remus snorts.

“You haven’t changed much, have you? Still always the nerd, and unrelentingly tied down to your emotions in the end.” Logan knits his eyebrows together, though it isn’t visible under his mask.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re being nice to me, Dork. I’ve captured you, I’ve hit you over the head – god, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m sorry for that. Hitting you, I mean. If I had known, it was you I woulda hit you much harder!” Logan rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure.”

“You’re indulging in my ever-so tragic backstory, you’re listening to me. Why? What do you have to gain from me?”

Logan considers the question. He thinks of the desire that’s festered deep beneath the surface for so many years, a desire he can tell has been reciprocated. He also considers the fact that indulging in such things could have very serious repercussions. Surely it would be illogical to give into such things. Logan's smarter than that. And yet…

“I think we might both have something to gain,” Logan dares to say, seeing that pent-up, jittery look in Remus’s eyes. He likes that look, likes the implications of it.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Why don’t you untie me and find out?” Logan’s never been like this, so direct. That had always been Remus’s department, and yet nothing had ever occurred between them. He’d wanted it to, despite how much he denied it at the time.

“And who’s to say you’re not going to kick the piss out of me when I untie you? How can I trust you?” Logan leans forward as much as he can in the restraints, seeing the hungry expression Remus wears. He looks like he could just eat him up, and maybe Logan’s going to let him.

“Come now, Remus. I think we can drop the false pretenses. Untie me.” It’s an order, and before he knows it Remus is working to undo the ropes. Logan flexes his hands, moving his arms that are sore from the restriction of movement. Remus pulls the mask from his face slowly, his stare intense and awed.

“Damn, you’re a cute little nerd, aren’t you? Who would hide a face like that behind a mask?” Logan surges forward, seizing Remus by his collar and pulling him into a heated kiss. Logan had wondered for years what it might be like to kiss Remus, and never in his wildest fantasies had he imagined he would be the one to initiate it. Remus’s hands settle onto his waist, clutching tightly as Logan holds the back of his head, pulling him closer still, as close as he can get.

“Oh, you’re a feisty little thing,” Remus says, shut off immediately as Logan goes in for another kiss, searing and desperate. He bites Remus’s bottom lip, earning an absolutely lewd moan in response and allowing his tongue to slither inside his mouth.

“I – I apologize," Logan sputters, pulling away momentarily, "I should’ve looked for you harder, I should have –.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, you nerd,” Remus growls and he does. He kisses the man who ensnared him. A man who so many consider to be a villain. Remus certainly isn’t a hero, but a villain? Logan doesn’t think so.

Logan feels another pair of hands on him, startled for a moment before realizing Remus has created two more false hands, both of which roam Logan’s body freely. If I had the ability to focus on any one thing, maybe he’d freeze the moment, take in Remus, beautiful and disheveled and kissing him and touching him. He’s far too worked up for that, though, and it appears he’ll simply have to enjoy what’s happening in the present.

=+=

Logan wakes in the middle of the night, wondering how long he’s been in Remus’s bed. He remembers stumbling up the basement stairs and stumbling into the bedroom and all that followed that in every beautiful, burning detail, but falling asleep seems to have left his memory.

He’s held in Remus’s loose embrace, The Duke laying asleep against his chest. He holds a hand to the back of his head, wincing slightly at the welt Remus’s morning star had left. Really, it should be the least of his concerns, at this point, considering the bruises that now litter his body. The one's not related to fighting, that is.

This moment should be a teenage fantasy come true, and to some extent it is. He’d gotten something he’s wanted for such a long time, but a nagging question comes to mind: What now?

Despite what he might want to believe, his actions weren’t purely driven by lust. These feelings, goddamn feelings, go deeper than that, in an ugly, fragile place in himself he hardly understands. Regardless of everything that logic tells him, Logan doesn’t want this to be a one-time affair. Is it selfish to want so much? Especially in such a strange, complicated situation.

“You’re being too loud,” Remus groans against him, his voice sending a shiver down Logan’s spine.

“What?”

“You’re thinking too damn loud, I can hear your mind screaming.”

“I wasn’t aware that thoughts were capable of making a sound,” Logan says dryly, watching in the low-light as Remus sits up, his skin pale like the moonlight that shines in from the window.

“You know what I mean. It’s too late for taksie-backsies, you know? Well…maybe not for you. Can you go back that far, if you want to?” Logan sits up too, shaking his head.

“I don’t regret this, if that’s what you’re implying. I don’t want to take anything back.” Remus grins, a genuinely happy expression that Logan can’t help but adore. How long has it been since he's seen him like this, happy?

“Me neither. I remember dreaming about this back in high school.” A sigh rolled past Logan’s lips.

“Me too.” The admission seems to surprise Remus. He tilts his head.

“Really? You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this back then?”

“I suppose so…”

Fucking hell, Logan. I always kinda figured you thought I was a freak and pitied me by keeping me around. We were hardly even friends.”

“I never thought of you as a freak, Remus.” There’s an intensity in Logan’s voice that he wants to blame on his sleepiness, on the dramatics of how this day has progressed, but he can’t. He means it with the utmost sincerity, as terrifying as that is. “You were my friend. I suppose I was…” Logan swallows thickly, struggling to find the words. Feeling-fueled confessions had never been his strong suite, “…afraid of what feelings for you could mean.” Remus quirks an eyebrow.

“And you aren’t afraid now?” Logan pales slightly at that, wondering if Remus notices.

“I never said that.”

“God, I can’t believe I kidnapped Logan Croft! I just thought you were some supper who I could fuck with a little bit and release or something. I planned on trying to convince you everything was a dream – I can do that, y’know? Isn’t that ridiculous to think about? You’d never fall for something like that. Some of the other idiot super heroes, but not you. You’ve got too many brains in your head for that.”

“Do you consider yourself a villain?”

“Look at you, asking the big tough questions,” Remus says, though the discomfort is evident in his voice, “Why, you embarrassed for fucking a villain?”

“No, certainly not.”

“I don’t know what I am, to tell you the truth,” Remus admits after a moment, “I’ve killed, but all those folks were real fucked up people. I’ve bashed a few skulls, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually genuinely injured someone who didn’t deserve it.”

“What do you use your powers for, then? Why do it?”

“I’ve got a writing side-gig, did you know that?” Remus asks changing the subject, as if Logan had access to such information, “I go by a pen name, I’m not too popular, but it’s nice. I write horror shit, not that I imagine that surprises you. Roman never encouraged my writing…always said how dark and deviant it was.”

Logan’s never wanted to punch his friend more than he does now. But what would Roman think, knowing the day he’s just had with Remus? At this point, he's not sure he cares what Roman would think.

“I’m sure your writing is wonderful,” Logan says, despite the fact that he’s never cared much for horror, “I’d love to read some, if you’d let me.” Remus’s lips curl into a smile.

"Yeah?”

“Yes. Now, as I asked before, why is it that you utilize your powers in this way?” Remus shrugs.

“Attention, I guess. I dunno.”

“And if you could get attention from something else, something more positive, would you?”

Logan doesn’t know what he’s doing, but at this rate, he can’t stop himself. He’s baring his soul to Remus, broken and desperate and ugly, something he’s always been so good at keeping under wraps. Remus had always been so good at getting him to face his emotions, even when it was unintentional.

“Lo – what’re you implying? Because whatever it is, it sounds dangerous. Messy…”

“Maybe it is,” Logan says quietly, taking Remus’s hand in his own, rubbing gently over the bumps of his knuckles, wondering absentmindedly how many times they’d been broken, “I’m not used to feeling so…”

“Emotional?” Remus supplies softly, far too soft for Logan’s liking. Remus is so bold, so loud and larger-than-life. Soft doesn’t suite him.

“Yes, that’s it. But it’s…nice, seeing you again.”

“Did ya see more of me than you bargained for?” Remus asks smugly, as though they aren’t both still nude.

“More than I expected. But that doesn’t change the fact that –,” Logan has to bite back the word love because it would be absolutely ridiculous to say such a thing. At least…right now, it would be. “– I care for you very deeply, Remus. It’s been such a long time and I’ve admittedly missed your company a great deal.” Remus’s eyes meet his, burning with what he can only pray is hope.

“I like you too, Lo,” he says, squeezing Logan’s hand, “God damnit, I’ve liked you for a long time and I never thought I’d see you again but you’re here! You’re really here.”

“I am.”

“I don’t want to not see you again,” Remus says clumsily, “I don’t. I, uh, really am sorry about hitting you over the head, by the way.”

“It’s quite alright.”

“You were one of the only ones who understood me, at least I think you understood me. Maybe you still do.”

“I’d like to think so.”

“If I go back to sleep, are you going to be here when I wake up? So we can like, talk about our feelings and shit?” Logan scoffs.

“Imagine us, talking about our feelings,” he says, as if they hadn’t been doing just that. “I’ll be here in the morning, if that’s what you want.”

“It is. It really fucking is. Nothing good has happened to me for so long but this? You? You’re real good.” Sleepiness seeps into Remus’s tone and Logan kisses him softly, lacking the passion of their earlier embraces but encompassing the compassion nonetheless.

“Go to sleep, Remus. It’s alright. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Remus curls close to Logan again, shutting his eyes and quickly drifting off. Logan means it, too. Despite how complicated all of this is, despite the fact that Remus had kidnapped him, despite all that he knows could go wrong, he gives in to a years-long-desire.

What their morning conversation about “feelings and shit” will entail, Logan doesn’t entirely know. And daunting though it is, Logan can’t help but look forward. It’s been so long since he’s had something to look forward to.

 

=+=

 

Notes:

Hoooo boy this was supposed to be like 2,000 words at most but I couldn't get them to shut up. Needless to say, I had a ton of fun writing these. This was done as a request on my writing tumbler @/exhaustedfander. Send me a request over there, if you want, that'd be cool. Kudos and comments are always appreciated and make my day. As always, have a wonderful day/night!