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“I’m sorry. It’s called what again?”
“A superhero convention.”
“But no superheroes actually attend?”
“No.”
“Then why is it called a superhero convention?”
“Because it’s for the fans.”
“Fans?”
“Don’t play dumb, Cyke. Ya know superheroes have fans.”
“For most superheroes, fame is the byproduct of what they do. It doesn’t define who they are. It shouldn’t define who they are.”
“Yeah well, byproduct or not, superheroes have fans and those fans show their appreciation by gettin’ together and celebrating their heroes.”
“How do they celebrate?”
“They have panels and games and discussions. They cosplay.”
“Cosplay?”
“Yeah, it’s when people dress up as . . . never mind.”
There was a pause.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because some of the kids wanna go and I think it’s a good idea.”
“The kids want to go to a superhero convention.”
“I know you’re not deaf, Cyke. So why d’ya keep repeatin’ what I say?”
There was a long-suffering sigh.
“The point is you’re a stickler for chaperoning. If the kids wanna go, I gotta run it by you first.”
“You’re willing to chaperone?”
“Not by myself.”
“Who else did you have in mind?”
“You.”
“Me? What would I do at a superhero convention that’s not for superheroes?”
“Live and learn, Cyke.” Logan paused. “I don’t think ya get what a big deal this is. It’s not just ‘cos the kids wanna go, but there’s an actual panel for the X-Men.” When Cyclops didn’t respond, Logan repeated, “A panel for the X-Men.”
“Now who’s repeating things?”
It was Logan’s turn to sigh.
“There’s a panel for the X-Men at a superhero convention,” Logan said in an attempt to fulfill the adage that the third time was the charm. When Cyclops still didn’t make the connection (or at the very least, didn’t acknowledge the connection), Logan explained with exasperation, “It means we’re being seen as superheroes, not as vigilantes or terrorists or a group to be feared. We have fans who want to celebrate the X-Men.”
Still no response.
“I think it’s good if the kids are exposed to that kinda positive attitude,” Logan went on. “So they see that not everyone hates and fears us.”
Silence.
“Cyke?”
More silence.
“Can ya give me a sign here?”
“How much is this going to cost?”
“The kids have saved up their own pocket money.”
Summers looked dubious. “Convention tickets aren’t cheap,” he pointed out. “The school can subsidize fifty percent, maybe more. Let me do the math. How many kids want to go?”
“About fifteen.”
Logan was inwardly grinning. Cyclops wasn’t a tight-ass all the time.
* * * * *
Fly High (“It’s a metaphor,” Logan had said and Scott tried very hard to wrap his head around the idea of Logan speaking in metaphors), the Superhero Convention in upstate New York, was nearer to Westchester than Scott had anticipated. Transportation wasn’t an issue and in the end only a dozen kids had signed up so two chaperones was adequate for the trip. He still wasn’t entirely certain how Wolverine had managed to talk him into being one of those chaperones, but Logan had those rare diplomatic moments that could catch him off guard. This appeared to be one of those times.
“Conventions can be a lot bigger than this,” Logan was saying as they milled about the crowd, keeping track of the kids ahead of them as they flitted from booth to booth. “There’d be a lot more traction in the city, but it’s kinda nice to be somewhere a little out of the way.”
“You sound like you know a lot about conventions,” Scott commented. This was obviously his first superhero convention.
“Maybe,” Logan hedged. At Scott’s pointed look, he added reluctantly, “Jubilee’s into them.”
“So this was Jubilee’s idea?”
“Does it really matter whose idea this was?” Logan said a bit defensively.
“I’m just curious,” Scott replied but before he could say anything else a loud voice interrupted them.
“Scott Summers!”
Scott turned around, his right hand instinctively going to his temple even though he was wearing his glasses and not his visor. There was no trigger to push.
“Do I know you?” Scott said, startled by the reaction.
The stranger, a man in his early twenties kept on talking as though he hadn’t heard Scott speak.
“Man, that is the best Scott Summers cosplay I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed. “You’ve really nailed the look: the oxford pants, the crisply ironed tucked in shirt, those red shades. Dude, you’re even the right height and have the right hair.” He applauded. “Subtle but perfect!” Then he looked at Logan and crossed his arms in front of his chest in the symbol of an ‘X.’ “See you guys at the X-Men panel later!” he said before disappearing into the crowd.
Scott watched the stranger go before turning to Logan. He noticed, for the first time, that Logan was wearing one of the black leather jackets of the X-Men, the gold X insignia shining brightly on both sides of the jacket’s round collar. In fact, now that Scott thought about it, all the kids were wearing something that associated them with the X-Men.
“What just happened?” Scott asked.
“You were just complimented,” Logan said, grasping him by the arm and propelling him in the direction of the students that had gone ahead of them.
“Complimented?” Scott repeated. “How did that guy know who I am? I’ve never seen him before.”
“He didn’t.”
“He called me by my name.”
“Yes,” Logan said patiently, talking to Scott as if the other man were five years old. “Because he thinks you’re cosplaying as Scott Summers.”
“I am Scott Summers.” Scott paused. “You still haven’t explained what cosplaying is.”
“It’s when fans dress up as their favorite characters from movies, books or video games. Or, in this case, as their favorite superhero.”
“So that guy thinks I’m a character?” Before Logan could respond, Scott continued. “But if that’s the case, then shouldn’t I be dressing up as my alter ego? As Cyclops?”
“You mean like that?” Logan suggested as they both stopped and watched a Cyclops cosplayer together with a Wolverine cosplayer walk right in front of the them. The two cosplayers were arguing. “That’s pretty accurate, dontcha think?” Logan said appreciatively.
Scott wasn’t sure if Wolverine was referring to the costumes or to the arguing so instead he said, “That Wolverine is too tall.”
“I’m gonna let that one go, Slim,” Wolverine growled.
Scott began walking again. “I still don’t get why anyone would . . . cosplay . . . as Scott Summers,” he said, clearly perplexed by the whole scenario.
Logan sighed as he fell into step beside the other man. Why couldn’t Cyclops see what a huge compliment the guy had paid him? It meant he thought that Scott Summers was a superhero. And he was! Uncertain that he could get that idea across, Logan reminded the other man, “Your identity’s been public for a while now, Cyke.”
“So is yours,” Scott returned. “You’re not just an X-Man. You’re an Avenger too. This place should be crawling with Wolverines, together with Captain Americas and Iron Mans.”
As if on cue, a group of Avengers passed in front of them composed of Captain America, Iron Man, Thor and the Wasp.
“Are people doing that on purpose?” Summers wondered aloud.
“C’mon, Cyke,” Logan said, grasping the other man’s arm again. “The kids are over here.”
* * * * *
Logan had signed them up for the X-Men panel after lunch. The kids showed unanimous solidarity by sitting at the front of the room, while Scott and Logan occupied seats in the back row.
“Should the kids be so . . . close?” Scott asked, sounding a little nervous.
“Quit worryin’,” Logan reprimanded him. “The kids are fine. They’re enthusiastic.”
“I don’t understand what this panel discussion is going to be about when the X-Men aren’t even involved,” Scott said.
“Let’s just leave it to the experts.”
“There are X-Men experts?” Scott repeated incredulously.
“Shhhh,” someone turned around and admonished them. “The discussion’s starting.”
“Sorry,” Scott said, providing an automatic but bewildered apology.
Logan crossed his arms, leaned back in his seat and grinned to himself. The panel discussion proved to be engaging and he knew that Cyclops was sold on the idea when Summers leaned forward in his seat to get a better view. There were several presenters and they all talked about relevant topics such as mutant rights, the philosophy of the X-Men, a few of the X-Men’s more memorable battles (beside him Logan could feel Scott fuming at some of the erroneous interpretations of their battle tactics, about which Summers would not rudely correct the speaker). On the whole, the level of discussion seemed to be quite high for a fan convention. At times, it felt like they were at a proper conference if it weren’t for . . . well . . . all the ‘X-Men’ sitting around them and the more informal atmosphere of the room. The kids also made them proud, asking thought-provoking questions of the panelists during the Q&A sessions in-between the presentations. There would be one final, big Open Forum at the end of the session.
It was the last speaker, though, that Logan had been waiting for and he was heavily invested in Summers’ reaction to the speaker’s topic. When the speaker stood up and took the podium, announcing his presentation to be on “Master and Commander: The Homoerotic Subtext of Cyclops and Wolverine’s Relationship,” Scott almost spit out the water he’d been drinking.
“The what?!!” he said.
There was a loud ‘shhh’ from a woman in the row in front of them and this time Scott did not apologize. He looked at Logan and repeated, “The what?”
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, as if the topic were news to him as well.
“Homoerotic Subtext?” Scott was saying, sounding close to distraught. “Where would he get that from?”
“Beats me,” Logan said, his heart sinking a little. This was not the reaction he’d been hoping from Cyclops. “Let’s just hear what he has to say, yeah?”
Scott’s brow was furrowed and he nodded at Logan’s words absently. The presentation began and Logan could tell that Summers was growing progressively more agitated. At the ten-minute mark, Scott had had enough and he stood up hastily, muttering a quick “Excuse me,” as he brushed by Logan and the other people sitting in the back row and left the room. Logan waited a full thirty seconds before standing up and following.
Outside the room, Logan easily traced Summers’ scent round the corner where he found Scott slumped against the hallway that led to the restrooms. He approached the other man slowly. Summers had taken off his glasses and was rubbing the bridge of his nose. He slipped the glasses back on just as Logan reached him.
“Too weird?” Logan said.
“I’ll say,” Summers agreed. He seemed uneasy. Logan could smell the nervousness on him. It was an alien scent for the leader of the X-Men.
Just then two cosplayers stumbled out of the men’s room. They were unsteady on their feet and Logan smelled the alcohol on them from where he was standing. They laughed as they almost tripped over each other and it took Logan a moment to realize that they were the same two cosplayers that had walked in front of he and Scott that morning. One of them had three protrusions that were clearly meant to be blades on his hands, while his companion wore Cyclops’ uniform and a visor. Logan knew that Scott was watching the two men as well so they both saw the moment when the Wolverine cosplayer grabbed the Cyclops cosplayer and kissed him. The action may have been uncoordinated at first but ‘Cyclops’ reacted immediately by pinning his companion against the wall and returning the kiss forcefully. Through his peripheral vision, Logan saw that Scott had averted his gaze. Public displays of affection always made Summers uncomfortable and this one had really taken the cake. Logan shamelessly continued to watch the two men, feeling a slight stirring in his groin at their desire. They were hot. It was a fantasy he’d played over in his mind again and again coming to life before him. Eventually, the two men broke apart, breathless and grinning.
“Fuck.” Logan’s keen hearing picked up what his counterpart said. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”
They walked by Scott and Logan, leaning on each other for support and disappeared around the corridor. Logan returned his attention to ‘his’ Cyclops, his arms now crossed so that he didn’t reach out and touch the other man. Scott’s gaze was still averted, directed at the floor somewhere beyond his left foot.
“Maybe that’s where the presenter got those ideas about us,” he said weakly.
It was a feeble attempt at a joke and neither of them laughed.
“I guess you don’t feel that way at all then,” Logan said flatly after the silence had stretched out for too long between them.
Scott looked up. “Feel what way?” he asked, confusion coloring his tone.
To hell with it, Logan thought. This was a good a time as any, possibly the only chance he’d ever get. Scott would probably hate him afterwards, but Cyclops was the consummate professional and Logan didn’t think his breach of conduct would permanently damage their working relationship. The friendship, yes. But the working relationship? Definitely not. With his mind made up, Logan’s answer was to lean forward, bracing his hands on either side of Scott’s head as he kissed him.
Scott was pinned in place and his reaction to Logan’s kiss was to freeze. Logan felt the other man’s body go rigid with surprise and confusion and his heart sank a little more. He’d given Scott a chaste, closed mouth kiss; just the press of lips against lips but even that had been too much. He felt the ache of bitter disappointment and was about to pull away when suddenly there were hands around his neck, holding him in place, the warmth of a mouth opening up, and the wetness of a tongue as it darted out and traced the seam of his lips. Logan’s body was reacting before his brain could process what was happening and he was kissing Scott back, pressing him even further into the wall, the arms that had pinned the other man now wrapped tightly around him. He knew he was holding on too tightly but he couldn’t ease his grip for fear that the fantasy would slip away and reality would once again take hold. He felt breathless when the kiss ended and it was gratifying to see that Scott was breathing hard as well, his cheeks slightly flushed.
“Wolverine,” Scott said, his voice remarkably steady given what had just happened between them. “I’m starting to think you planned all this.”
Logan fought the smile that was threatening to break out on his face as he mirrored Scott’s serious manner. “I’m not the strategist, Cyke,” he reminded the other man.
Scott held his gaze a moment longer before he disentangled himself from Logan’s embrace and smoothed down his shirt and pants. Logan reluctantly let the other man go.
“What else is on the schedule for today?” Scott asked calmly.
Logan shrugged. “It’s up to the kids, really,” he replied. “All I did was sign us up for the X-Men panel. Thought it was important we all attend.”
“For educational purposes?” Scott prodded.
“I found it informative,” Logan said. “I’m pretty sure the kids did too.”
Scott nodded, finally smiling. “We should get back,” he said, turning around.
As the two of them walked down the hallway back to the room where the X-Men panel was being held, Scott didn’t object when Logan slipped his hand into Scott’s, who lightly returned the grip. Once they were back at their seats, Logan’s hand now resting on Scott’s thigh, he sent Jubilee a text message.
“Tell the kids dinner’s on me.”
Fin.