Logan was not an easy man to share a hotel room with. He grumbled about the smell (nothing Remy could pick up but animal senses, blah blah blah), the fact that he was sure the towels were mildewy (again, nothing Remy and his regular old senses got), the fact that they had to stay there at all and how he was going to tear Cyclops a new one when they got back. That last one was standard though, and Remy thought it probably didn't count.
Remy risked pointing out that he'd probably slept in far worse places over the years, but the Wolverine was in no mood for it. In fact, he took off a couple minutes later and--Remy assumed--hit the hotel bar. Well, at least if they had enough beer, it would keep the room quiet for a little while and let him get some much needed rest. And it gave him a chance to stretch out on the only bed in the room. After weeks of sleeping sitting up in the passenger seat of a beat up old truck, the thin mattress was a dream come true. Even Logan's bitching wasn't going to ruin Remy's first night of good sleep in far too long.
Remy would never know exactly what woke him up, but he found he couldn't quite... move. He turned to see Logan passed out next to him and curled around him. He looked almost peaceful or as close as he ever got anyway. Some of the frown lines softened and for a minute Remy got to see what was under the facade. He loved moments like that when Logan was unguarded. It made all the fighting, all the crap worth it for those moments so few people--as far as Remy knew--ever got with the dreaded Wolverine.
He smiled and rolled over to face the other man. "Dors bien, mon ami."