Elijah

Imagine:

Magneto had a son, Charles had found yet another child of his out there somewhere, living with a foster family since he was a toddler.

Apparently his powers had manifested, some form of kenisis (I like to picture Hydrokenisis but its up to you) , and he had run away and grew up on his own.

He was around 20-26, seeking answers from his biological father.

[m/n] is invited to the mansion to meet his father.

Things go fine, they talk, things settle.

They don't become really close, just enough for them to care about each other (emotional constipation runs in the family).

(I'd like to think Erik tried to bond with him with sparring or games of chess. Perhaps this is one child he can redeem himself with.)

(Maybe [m/n] hasn't heard of what Magneto's done and such, and or forgave him or gave him the benefit of the doubt.)

The X-Men become a family to [m/n], and he finds himself happy with where his life has brought him.

For some reason [m/n] wasn't involved in the fight with Bastion, so he wasn't there when most of them X-Men were split and sent to the past and future.

During the time he spent in the present can go many ways.

After being informed about the X-Men's whereabouts, he sets out to do what he can to help.

He could perhaps join either Bishop or Forge in their mission to retrieve the team from the past and future, or maybe he stays behind.

Maybe he joins Cable's X-Force, trains with them in their fight against Apocalypse.

Or he becomes some vigilante, fights against X-Factor and saves mutants from their possession.

Either path, [m/n] does his best to make the present less chaotic for when the X-Men come back, all the while he can't help but worry about his father.

He's less stressed when the team from the future manage to return with Forge, happy to see some familiar faces after being alone for the time they were gone.

But when the past team hasn't come back at the agreed upon time, he begins to worry again.

His mind starts trailing into worse territory than he liked.

And when only a part of the past team returns, he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Two members were missing, the Professor, and his father.

Hank caught him up with what had happened in the past, and hearing how his father was suddenly acting as some martyr, he began preparing himself for the worst, but he held onto a glimmer of hope that Magneto and the Professor would return.

Bishop had traveled back to the past to gather the rest of the X-Men, only to come back with one person, the Professor.

Charles carried the battle tattered, dented, scuffed helmet his father wore, a pained look on his face.

"I'm sorry, [m/n], your father.. He.. He gave his life for the better future of mutantkind. I wish I could've done more."

Though he was a grown man, in front of the other X-Men no less, all [m/n] could do was fall to his knees before Charles, staring at the helmet his father should be wearing right now, so many emotions swirling in his mind.

Sadness, confusion, rage..

Why would his father do something likes this? Why, when he had a child to come back to?

The real question is why wouldn't he?

Magneto cared about the future of mutants, this shouldn't have come as a surprise, yet it still hurt.

Tears flowed down his cheeks as he sobbed, finding himself hurting more than he ever thought he would.

Charles did his best to comfort the young man, though he too was just as distraught as he.

They were merely acquaintances, but Charles understood the pain of losing someone so suddenly. He had just lost his friend.

[m/n] cried, clutching Erik's helmet to his chest, trembling like a leaf in a harsh breeze.

He hardly knew the man, and Erik hardly knew him. But he was still his father.

And now his father was gone...

I CANT STOP CRYING 😭😭😭

I WAS JUST STARTING TO LIKE ERIK WHY DID THEY DO THIS!?!?!?

Arthur Morgan. He was a private man, kept his secrets locked up tight, and said only a few words. You know the type. But of course, people wouldn’t think said rough and tough outlaw would have a boyfriend of all things. Sure, he was an outlaw, but it could be a bit unexpected because of the times.

Yet, surely the man that stole Arthur Morgan’s heart must’ve been something grand, and it was only more of a surprise (mostly to the gang ofc), to meet the guy and see he was nothing more than an aristocrat horse racer. And a charming one at that. 

Where the two met was unknown, but everyone could see just how smitten the two men were for each other. The gang could see this man was good for Arthur, he wasn’t some stickler for the rules or an arrogant pain in the side. He was just happy to be around, maybe win a few games of cards and such. But, Arthur was still a private man, which proved to be a difficult habit to keep with [m/n].

And perhaps some of the gang got a peak of their romance, but he tried his best to keep the hand holding and smooching to a minimum around them, he wouldn’t be able to handle the teasing he’d hear after. That lovey dovey stuff was kept exclusive to the privacy of a hotel room or Arthur’s tent. It wasn't because he was ashamed or anything, he just wanted to keep his reputation as some cold hearted outlaw clean. (And because he got jealous sometimes..)

It didn’t help that his boyfriend was a sucker for public displays of affection. Nothing too crazy to make him uncomfortable, but he just had a knack for making Arthur flush in front of the others like it was a personal hobby of his. It was frustrating for the outlaw. But, he understood that [m/n] was just proud of their bond. Still, Arthur didn’t need Micah to have any more ammunition to shoot him with when he spoke the shit he did. And asking his boyfriend out for some alone time was always a pain. [m/n] loved making a big deal out of it, acting all flustered and batting his eyes obnoxiously. If Arthur weren’t so fond of the man he would’ve choked him out already. 

As Arthur checked his reflection in the little mirror he used to shave, adjusting himself as needed, he took in a deep breath. Going up to [m/n], who had to be around the camp, probably sitting near the lake or something, would be a feat. Avoiding everyone just to get to his man would definitely be a bit tricky this time a day, he could only hope he’d be left alone and that his boyfriend wasn’t in a teasing mood today.

He made sure to check all of [m/n]’s favorite spots to sit, near the horses, around Pearson’s wagon, and even near the lake, but he seemed to be nowhere to be seen. It was only then, a pit grew in his stomach when he saw his lover, sat at a table where he, Hosea, Lenny, and Uncle were playing a game of poker. God this would be harder than usual. 

Pulling [m/n] away from a poker game would be impossible, that man was more competitive than an angry badger claiming its territory. And asking him out for a date would be even more painful around listening ears and wide smirks. 

But he wanted to spend time with his lover, so he swallowed his pride and trudged over, standing behind [m/n] and peering over his shoulder at the cards he had in hand. He seemed to be winning.. This was good.

“Gentlemen.” Arthur gave a curt nod as he glanced around the table, a warm hand landing on [m/n]’s shoulder out of instinct. “Can I talk to you, [m/n]?” He wanted to call him sweetheart, like he always did, but he caught himself before he could, noticing the smirk on Hosea’s face.

“Course you can, Artie, whatcha need?” That goddamn nickname.

Arthur shifts, his boots crunching the earth beneath him. He clears his throat, feeling like a love-struck idiot as he looks away from the back of his boyfriend’s head. He already felt the embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. 

“Privately, I mean. Need ta ask you somethin’.” He was about ready to just drag the man away from the table, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate for affection or attention. He just knew someone would say something.

“Mm, can’t it wait? I got a good hand here, Darlin’..” [m/n] chuckled, glancing back at his boyfriend with a big grin, that competitive look in his eye. It made Arthur just want to kiss him right then and there, seeing all happy like that, and his heart was practically beating out of his chest at that term of endearment.

“I suppose.. But I’d like ta chat before sundown..” Arthur huffs, but he knew his man didn’t hear him, watching as [m/n] placed down his cards, revealing his winning flush to the table. Here comes the gloating.

Every man at that table groaned and threw in their cards, Uncle grumbled under his breath about foul play. [m/n] happily denied the accusations as he collected his earnings, stating “It’s just good luck, old man”.

Arthur rolled his eyes, stepping back as his boyfriend triumphantly stood up, his pockets now lined with the money he won. He was just thinking he’d be able to pull [m/n] away, but Hosea had to go and say something.

“Now, Arthur, I wish your taste in lovers had changed sooner! I haven’t had a good game of poker in years!” The silver haired man laughed, a wheezing sound that came with his old age. It was harmless, but it was enough for Arthur’s cheeks to set ablaze. Goddammit.

[m/n] laughed, his own cheeks flushing slightly. He liked the gang, all of these people were rather entertaining to be around. Well, except for a few of them, but he wouldn’t let a few bad apples ruin the batch.

“C’mon, old man, I can’t be that good.” [m/n] grinned, standing next to Arthur practically glowing with pride. And Arthur just stood there, his face on fire from what Hosea had just said. That old man knew how to just embarrass him, and he knew he was doing it on purpose by that same smirk on his face. 

“Well, if he’s so good then I should pull him away, save your pockets the hurt.” Arthur grumbles, almost pouting as Uncle laughed at him, Lenny had already stepped away, more interested in some book than teasing Arthur and his relationship. Hosea only smirked wider, waving the two men away, having had his fill of poking fun. 

[m/n] turned to glance at his boyfriend, smiling as Arthur suddenly took hold of his arm and began pulling him away from camp. He found a quiet spot around the horses, taking a moment to gather himself before he turned towards [m/n], pulling him closer by the belt loops of his worn out jeans. 

“You’re difficult to deal with, you know that right?” He mumbles, his hands heavy on [m/n]’s hips, his thumbs rubbing circles against the fabric of his shirt. He sighs, shaking his head as the other man just laughs, his arms wrapping around Arthur’s neck. 

“Am I? Maybe you just can’t handle me..” [m/n] hummed, tilting his head slightly, one hand toying with the hair at the nape of Arthur’s neck, a soft smile on his lips.

A comfortable silence settled between the two as they stood there, the sounds of the distant camp and snorting horses filling their ears. [m/n] watches Arthur closely, seeing that his boyfriend was holding something back, remembering the mention of him wanting to ask him something.

“What did you want to tell me earlier, hm? Seemed important.” [m/n] leaned in closer towards Arthur, looking into the pretty pool of blue and green that was the outlaw’s eyes. 

Arthur just hummed, glancing down at his boyfriend’s lips before looking into his eyes again. He chuckles lightly, his cheeks gaining a red color. 

“I just—I wanted to ask if you’d like to.. Maybe go out on a ride? Just us.”

“Mmm… Like a date?”

“..Yeah. A date.”

[m/n] huffed, a soft smile pulling on his lips as he cheeks flush darker. He seemed almost bashful, all that confidence he had early slowly disappearing. Being asked out on a date by his boyfriend always made butterflies flutter in his stomach, even though they’ve been on plenty of dates it still felt like the first time. God, if only this man knew just how in love with him he was.

“Where was you thinkin’ we go?” [m/n] asked softly, unable to fight the grin pulling on his lips. He felt like some schoolboy with a crush, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He feared he’d pass out with how giddy he felt.

“Dunno, there’s a few spots I’ve been meaning to show ya..” Arthur responds, feeling just as love struck as the man in his arms. The urge he had to kiss him stupid was hard to ignore, the longer they stood here the more eager he got to get out of camp.

And [m/n] say the longing in Arthur’s eyes, a small laugh leaving in before he leaned in closer, their breath mingling. In a matter of a second, their lips met in a soft, slow kiss. The rest of the world suddenly disappeared, it was just them, two men deeply in love. It was like time had slowed down, minutes feeling like hours.

Before the kiss could deepen, could get too heated and become sensual, the both of them pulled away. The risk of being watched was too high, not that anyone would likely care, they just weren’t those types of people. This would be done more comfortably in a hotel room or a private spot amongst the wilderness.

“Well, best we get goin’ then, hm?” [m/n] smirked, stepping away and pulling Arthur by the hand, leading him, almost beckoning him with the look in his eyes towards their horses. And Arthur went willingly, the both of them grinning like idiots as they both rushed off to their respected horses, mouthing up quickly and riding out of camp without any care.

Notes: I'm already out of ideas 😭

New members joining the team weren’t something uncommon for the X-Men, not entirely at least. Sure, they had new mutants join them at the X-Mansion from time to time, be it mutants looking for a place to stay or to become students or teachers, they were always welcome. But someone actually joining the team, becoming an official X-Man without the initial training, it was different. Rare even. And this new teammate, man, was he something. 

There was a certain order amongst the team, seeing as secondary sexes usually called for some sort of hierarchy. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded, there was a mutual respect everyone had for each other, as teammates and pack mates. It was important for the pack bond for there to be some sort of system, it just made things easier. But this new guy just seemed to disregard everything. He was skittish, distant, which was expected, but it was still a hard adjustment. The pack bond was struggling, and it was making everyone uncomfortable, but it got to Scott the most. 

As the pack alpha and team leader, it was his job to make sure the new member was settling in properly. He’d made sure the team would welcome him with open arms, make him feel like he belonged. But it was hard when you didn’t know someone’s designation. And [m/n]’s designation was somehow kept under lock and key, not a single word of what it could possibly be was uttered from his lips. It was frustrating, and Scott was getting antsy to know, and he knew so was the rest of the team.

Jean saw her husband’s frustration, it was hard not to with her mutant abilities and all. As an Alpha herself, she understood, but then again, she had control over her instincts a lot more than Scott did. Logan, an unlikely omega, liked making fun of him because of it. Remy, a sly beta, did too. Most of the team liked making fun of Scott, in a friendly way, of course, but even the pack alpha knew it was because they were itching to know [m/n]’s designation just as much as him. Anna-Marie, a charming alpha, would poke fun every once and a while, but she kept it to herself most of the time. Ororo, a kind beta, was as calm as always, never once letting the stress get to her. She was certain [m/n] would come around, there was no need to fuss about it. Kurt, the ever-caring beta, was neutral about everything, more worried about why [m/n] was so shut out in the first place than the fact that he was avoiding the bond. Morph, an annoyingly funny omega, of course, took the opportunity to join in on Logan and Remy’s antics, shifting into [m/n]’s form to tease their pack alpha. All of it just piled up.

Scott had eventually pleaded to Hank about trying to find out [m/n]’s designation, to which the blue omega told him he had no idea either, seeing as their new teammate apparently avoided the infirmary like it was the plague. Desperate, Scott even turned to Jean, telling his wife to just take a quick peek into [m/n]’s mind, see if she could get any inkling of what he was, to which the telepath would refuse, saying she wouldn’t invade someone’s mind over something like a designation. They could only come at this with patience, [m/n] would open up over time. Of course, Scott didn’t exactly like having to wait, he wanted [m/n] to be a part of his pack now. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about him, but he just had a feeling that he’d slot into the pack wonderfully. But fine. He’d be patient. They all will be. They can wait. 

[m/n], on the other hand, was sort of like a bad roommate. Or at least an annoying one. He helped around, sure, pulled his weight on missions and such. But he had his days. He seemed to have a bit of a temperament when the whole designation thing became the topic of conversation. One moment, he’d be lounging around in a nice, cozy spot, like some cat, catching some Z’s maybe, then the conversation he was allowing to happen around him switched gears, and he was stepping out of the room the moment certain words were said. It was like he was repulsed by it, which no one could tell if he was because his scent was absolutely smothered in scent blockers, only leaving a chemically, antiseptic type smell behind. It was truly rancid to those with sensitive noses, it was so strong that even Logan couldn’t get a whiff of his true scent, which was truly astonishing. 

[m/n] was just a walking mystery, a frustrating presence in the sanctuary of the X-Mansion. And though everyone on the team tried to be patient with him, it was only a matter of time before something would happen, before someone would snap. It seemed their new teammate needed a bit of a push in the right direction, and though it seemed a little forceful, desperate times called for drastic measures. 

.

It was later in the afternoon, a day free for the team to do what they pleased. It was a rare occasion, one to take gratefully. There were no villains to fight, no giant robots to stop, it was just a normal, quiet, relaxing day. It was not something to take for granted, and surely everyone would use the downtime carefully. 

The X-Men’s newest member had only just woken up, the time being around 12:30 pm. He was always a late riser, that one. He was only up early half the time if Remy would be making breakfast that morning, he just loved that man’s cooking. But, alas, he pulled himself out of bed, stepping over the mess on his floor, putting on some clothes he hoped were clean, and took his medication. He still looked a mess, but he didn’t seem to care as he padded out of his room, making his way downstairs to get something to eat. It was a rough start to the day, but he was sure he’d make it out alive, or at least scrape by somehow. 

As the feral mutant made his way to the kitchen, the pack leader himself caught a glimpse of him walking by the common room. To which the alpha followed, that itch in his brain telling him to assess his peer, fearing the worst only because he couldn’t get a read on his scent. He walked into the kitchen and found [m/n] helping himself to the fridge, rummaging around for something decent to munch on. His tail swished behind him, his ear twitching, obviously aware of Scott’s presence. Yet, he said nothing, only continuing his search for food to fill his grumbling belly. 

“Rough night?” Scott couldn’t help but ask, seeing as [m/n]’s appearance was disheveled and not as put together as usual. He seemed more tired than normal, and that only set off the alarms in his instinct-written brain, wanting nothing more than to pamper the mutant with love and affection he so clearly needed. But he was a grown man, and it embarrassed Scott that he had all these urges toward said grown man. 

“Somethin’ like that..” The feral mutant responds in a mundane voice, pulling out a container of last night’s leftovers. He ignored the label plastered onto the lid, not exactly caring that someone had called dibs on it already. He was hungry, he had no time for words. He simply popped off the lid, the claw on his index finger extending to poke into the meatball, skewering it on his digit to lift it to his lips and scarf down the meat in one go. Why use utensils if you have ten of them with easy access?

“Is that what you’re gonna eat for breakfast?” Scott glanced down at the container in [m/n]’s hand, reading the sticky note pasted to the tossed aside lid, Logan’s name written in bold letters. This guy had a death wish, eating Logan’s leftovers was a cry for trouble. “Ain’t exactly mornin’ any more..” [m/n] hums, already shoving another meatball into his mouth, lazily staring at Scott, unfazed. 

Sometimes it was hard to tell if [m/n] was purposely acting stupid or if he was being genuine. Not knowing anything about this guy was infuriating on its own, but the way he acted grated Scott’s nerves more than Logan’s constant smoking in-doors or Morph’s mocking teases. But at the same time.. It was almost endearing? Maybe he was comfortable enough with the team to act this way without fear of backlash. Or maybe it was a trauma response, a defense mechanism to make himself undesirable. 

“You just gonna keep staring, Summers?” [m/n] suddenly spoke up, arching a dark brow at Scott, who was apparently so lost in thought he didn’t realize he was staring. Scott, of course, panicked slightly, not wanting to come off as creepy or rude and scare the new guy off. He clears his throat, glancing away in an attempt to save himself the awkwardness. [m/n] still seemed so unfazed, swallowing down the last meatball in the tupperware before capping it back off. He turns back towards the fridge, opening the door and placing the now empty container back where he grabbed it from, surely leaving Logan an unpleasant surprise to discover at lunch. What a dick.

“That wasn’t yours, you know.” the team leader states, gaining back the confidence he lost under [m/n]’s gaze now that he was turned away. He was staring at his back, the kitchen light reflecting off his ruby lenses. That shirt he was wearing was damn thin, he swore he could see the lines defining each muscle on [m/n]’s back, it made heat creep up his neck.

“I know, but what’s he gonna do? Stab the rookie?” the feral scoffs, laughing lightly as he pushed the fridge door shut, seemingly uninterested in anything else inside. His eyes roam around the kitchen, eyelids heavy, his gaze uncaring. He eyed the fruit bowl on the island counter, mostly to ignore Scott as he pondered on what fresh fruit he’d like to devour next. 

“He might, not that I’d let him.” Shit, was that too forward? Scott cursed himself in his head, feeling stupid for sounding like some overprotective alpha male. It made him cringe, and it obviously amused [m/n] as he saw him snicker. “You think I need protectin’, Summers?” he rumbles out, reaching for a banana as he smiles a sly grin at the alpha. He peels the potassium-filled fruit slowly, his eyes lingering on Scott before he focuses on his snack.

“N-No! It’s just.. It’s not good comradery to be stabbing your teammates. As a leader, it’s my job to regulate things, including tense situations.” Scott stiffens up, feeling dumber by the second as he fumbles with the words that come out of his mouth. He’s never heard [m/n] talk so much in one setting, nor has he been so.. Flirty? Or was he just imagining things? “Not that I think you couldn’t handle it! I would just like to avoid an altercation between teammates. The more we all get along the better.”

[m/n] hums, taking a bite out of the banana slowly, his ear flicking as he leans against the counter. A fight with the resident grumpy Canadian sounded interesting, but he wasn’t interested in losing a limb today, that can be saved for another time. He simply takes the time to enjoy his banana, taking a few bites before he turns his gaze towards Scott who was impatiently awaiting a response. It was funny. He was like a damn pup, sitting there waiting for some type of reward. He almost laughed.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Summers. I’m not in the mood for a scrap with the mutt.” He chuckles around the fruit in his mouth, his lips looking incredibly soft around the pale yellow pulp of the banana. Scott’s mind was wandering, to which he shook his head in a scrambling attempt to clear his thoughts. He was meant to be respectful, thinking like that was the opposite. He could chalk up these thoughts flashing in his head to the unattended instincts he was trying so hard to ignore for the sake of his new teammate. A lot of good that was doing him. 

“Right, good.” Scott lets out a sigh, already knowing this very moment would be keeping him up tonight. Jean was going to have a field day.

.

Quiet days went by fast, they were over almost as soon as they started. Surely, tomorrow would hold a grueling mission for the team. Perhaps a few giant purple robots, or some anti-mutant group would infiltrate a local shelter or something equally as frustrating to deal with. But as the day winded down, the bright skies changing color, now dark with shimmering speckles of the stars, the mansion fell into a routine silence. 

Most, if not all, of the team had retired to their respective rooms, ready to turn in for the night and rest up in preparation for the next day. Yet, [m/n] had yet to return to his space, seemingly more awake than ever. He had a habit of prowling during the night, enjoying the freedom in the night because he practically had the common areas of the mansion to himself while everyone else was asleep. Was it avoidant behavior? Yes, he knew it was. But he found himself not caring most of the time, he liked having time to himself, even though he knew he was driving the whole team crazy with his constant distance. 

Having the common room to himself for once was amazing. It was practically routine for him to crash out on the couch the moment the clock struck 2 am. That time specifically was the prime timing that ensured everyone would be in their rooms, and that gave [m/n] free region of the spaces that were usually so crowded.

Sprawling out on the couch, [m/n] flicked the Tv on, flipping through the late night channels with a bored expression on his face. The volume was turned low, practically silent so as to not alert anyone with more sensitive hearing. He was cocooned in a thick blanket, seeing as the common room was freezing at night. It was a communal blanket, and as dirty it could possibly be, it was damn comfortable. [m/n] would never admit it, but he loved the mixed scents that clung to the fabric of the blanket, his nose constantly pressed against it to breathe in the smoothie of smells.

He could smell almost everyone on the fabric. It made him slightly dizzy. Despite his reluctance and overall avoidance of pack bonds and admitting designations, he was rather infatuated with each and every unique scent of the X-Men. Taking in their scents soothed a part in his brain, and with how long he had deprived himself of blending into a pack, it really helped him keep his sanity. And maybe it was creepy, but no one was around to judge.

Settling on some nature documentary, [m/n] leaned back onto the couch cushions, the blanket wrapped around him with his nose buried in the soft cloth. Each breath was filled to the brim with intoxicating aromas, and his brain could sort and pinpoint each and every one. 

The heady mix of Remy and Anna-Marie’s scents, the couple having been the last to use it. Leather mixed with spices, earthy tones and slight sweetness, it was a calming scent despite the hosts being absolutely mouth watering. Lingering scents hid behind the initial smell, hints of ozone and cigar smoke, likely Logan and Ororo. Even a peak of Scott’s cologne and Jean’s perfume mixed in. It may be overwhelming to someone else, but to [m/n], it was enough to make the tension in his body disappear. 

He was sure he’d fall asleep like this, relaxing for once when he was so used to being on edge in order to hide his designation. His eyelids grew heavy, a soft rumbling vibrating in his chest, the omega part of his brain not hidden behind a wall of stubbornness. He allowed himself the luxury of just being, purring quietly as he slowly drifted off to sleep. 

This beat sleeping in his cold room all alone when everyone else most definitely had a partner to snuggle with tonight. It made him feel less alone. But he knew he’d have to wake up in the early hours of the morning to avoid being found out, but for now, he’d take what he could get..

Notes: RAHH, I LOVE THE OMEGAVERSE!!! Anyways.. I hope yall liked this, I definitely wanna do a series with this, but I’m a lil dumb so I may need some ideas idk. Also if you want me to add more characters lemme know, I feel bad for not including Bishop and the others I left out, if ya want em added just tell me what designation you'd like em to be and I'll consider it!!

Being an X-Men was a tiring experience. Sometimes days seemed endless with constant problems arising, things like rogue mutants or a concerning rise in anti-mutant groups, to literal aliens. It was hard sometimes, and that’s why getting to catch a break was almost God sent. 

Logan had managed to get him and [m/n] away from the team for a few days, using the excuse of some personal business coming up, and adding on the fact he only trusted [m/n] to help him out. Sure it caused some backlash (mostly from a frustrated Scott), but it got the job done, and soon enough [m/n] and Logan were able to ride away in Logan’s beat-up pickup truck.

Now it was just Logan and his man and the open road, Johnny Cash low on the radio as they drove down the rural roads of New York. Open fields and lush trees, it was a literal breath of fresh air, compared to the city air it was like night and day.

[m/n] sat pressed up against Logan’s side, his legs spread over the rest of the bench seat. He wasn’t asleep, just resting his eyes. They’ve been driving for hours, and he definitely wasn’t complaining, he was just getting a bit restless. Being near his boyfriend eased the tension enough to calm him, breathing in his scent, feeling his warmth, it almost made him purr.

Logan was relaxed for once, one hand one the steering wheel and the other wrapped around his darling. Driving kept him awake, but with his man against him, he wanted nothing more than to find some rest stop along the road and snuggle up with [m/n] and sleep for a day, maybe too. 

A rumble coming from his boyfriend’s stomach snapped him out of his smitten thoughts, his eyes briefly looking away from the road to glance at his boyfriend, the corner of his lips quirking up in a slight smile.

“Hungry?” 

“Mm..”

Logan huffs, his arm around [m/n] tightening slightly, his eyes scanning the road signs for any indication of an exit. The next exit was 30 miles out. He pressed on the gas a bit harder, accelerating slowly. If his man was hungry, it would be his mission to get his man fed. 

About a half hour later, pulling off the long winding roads, the couple found some lakeside park, which seemed to be hosting a small food festival. Perfect.

Pulling in and finding a parking spot, Logan and [m/n] got out, both their noses picking up the delicious scents of fried foods. They scour around the stalls for a moment, noses instinctively in the air and they sniff out the most appealing foods for their starving stomachs. 

“They have hotdogs over there..” [m/n] mutters close to Logan, almost acting like an excited puppy with how excited he was. 

“You want a hotdog?” 

“...Maybe.”

Ordering two hotdogs, a beer and a soft drink, [m/n] set out to find them a spot to sit and eat while Logan paid. There were quite a few people about, families and other couples, but after he spotted an empty picnic bench he quickly made his way over to claim their seats, sitting there somewhat impatiently as he waited for his boyfriend.

Logan found [m/n] easily after receiving their food, practically smelling the excitement and hunger from across the park. He smiled softly as he plopped down on the opposite side of the bench, sliding a hotdog and his drink over to his boyfriend. He set his own food and drink down, chuckling quietly as he saw his boyfriend pounce on his food like a starved animal. 

How romantic. Sitting under a tree, shaded from the afternoon sun, a nice view of the lake, the whole park is active with movement of other people. This was nice. There was no fighting, no giant robots or hate groups they had to worry about. It was just them, unbothered.

Logan began to eat his meal, managing to pop off the cap of his beer with the edge of the wooden picnic bench, taking a few gulps. The hotdogs were mediocre, drenched in mustard and ketchup, but to them, it was almost gourmet. And before Logan was halfway done with his dog, [m/n] had already finished, sipping on the last of his drink.

“Ya satisfied?” 

[m/n] nods his head, feeling a little sheepish for devouring his food like a hungry wolf. “It was good.. Thanks.”

Logan hums, continuing to eat as [m/n] looks out towards the lake, resting his head in the palm of his hand. It’s quiet in their little section of the park, comfortable and warm. It wasn’t the unbearable heat some summers brought, but like the warmth of the day that was just right, not scorching, not humid. Just right. 

“Logan?”

“Hm?”

“Can I hold your hand?”

It made Logan snort, not in a mean way, it just made him laugh that his boyfriend felt the need to ask even though they’ve been together for a few years. It was cute. And without any hesitation, Logan held out his hand, allowing his man to take it. Their hands lay against the table intertwined, calloused palms and warm fingers. 

They just sat there, holding hands and appreciating the sights around them. Now their bellies were full, and those instincts that were going crazy for the wilderness had been sated. It was peaceful, it almost felt normal. And they wouldn’t let anything come in between it. (Unless it was an absolute emergency of course.)

The day still had a ways to go until its end, there was a lake right there, maybe they could find a secluded cove and go for a dip. Or maybe they could pile back into Logan’s truck, and keep driving, maybe have a catnap or two in the truck bed.