"Fuh So Long" (part one)
 
 
 

'Jesus H. Christ!!'

There was no way to avoid it, no matter where he went. He'd sought refuge in the
sub-basements as a last alternative, but it was there too.

'Fuck!!!'

He didn't run from anything. Not Juggernaut, not Mystique… not even that psycho
bastard, Sabretooth. But he was running now. If he didn't, he'd be deader than a
flamingo in an Anchorage winter.

Every single goddamn female over the age of twelve had her monthly. Eventually,
they all seemed to fall in line with Jean's cycle 'cause she
was the alpha female.

~ Drivin' him flamin' crazy. ~

The scent of blood made him nuts. But menstrual blood?

'Aw, man…'

He was probably the only guy in the world who not only liked it when a woman was
"on the rag", but he would actually seek them out. He loved to taste their soft,
tender, very sensitive pussies, especially at times like this. It was the only
way he could obtain that savory flavor without actually killing something. His
body craved it.

He could lie between a woman's legs fer hours and hours, just lapping away like
a kid with a popsicle on a hot summer's day.The funny thing was, once the ladies
got over the shock of him actually enjoying it, they got off on it too. Turned
'em all into nymphos. Well, couldn't blame 'em, cuz all the nerve endings in a
woman's body seemed to culminate at her clit and it was especially sensitive
during 'that' time of the month.

It was sorta like when he got a hard-on. Felt so fuckin' good to have a gal give
him head, and he was the kind of guy who was terminally horny.

~ Ya' know, healin' factor and all that shit. ~

But that was in the old days, before he was trapped in an opulent
mansion-turned-school with a bunch of them all cyclin' at the same time. If he
didn't get out, he'd end up rapin' someone.

'Not a friggin' option, bub.' He had to work with them, trusted them to watch
his ass. 'Nuh-uh, ain't gonna happen.'

So he packed up the necessary crap that he used to carry before he hooked up
with the X-Men, and headed off to the woods for some peace. It was a little cold
outside, but nothing he couldn't handle.

'Sleepin' bag'll help.'

And leaves would provide extra insulation if it started ta snow. He found a spot
that 'smelled right' and spread out his bedroll to grab some shuteye. But the
scent of females in heat was all over his clothes. His dick was already hard,
and it turned to concrete every time a wisp of wind blew the scent back into his
face.

'Miserable fuckin' nose.'

It'd be the death of him someday, he just knew it. Grumbling, he forced himself
out of the sleeping bag, turned it around so that he'd be facing downwind and
crawled back in.

'Godfuckin'dammit!'

His mind screamed as the breeze shifted again just as he got comfortable. He
turned his rustic bed around again and once more climbed inside, only to be hit
by the same flaming scent.

'Crap!!!!!!'

Frustrated, he scrambled out of the bag, throwing the cover off and kicking it
violently off his feet as it tried to wrap around him and hold him hostage. It
was absolutely pointless to try and doze with his clothes on.

Tearing off his shirt, he angrily threw it deep into the woods. Tomorrow'd be
soon enough to retrieve it. God knows he'd be able to find it anywhere. The
thing reeked like a slaughterhouse.

He sat back down on the bag, yanking off his boots so he could strip off his
jeans. He'd got them down to his knees when a light from the road briefly washed
over his semi-nude form.

He hunkered down on his belly, oblivious to the chilly earth as a taxi pulled up
to the mansion's gates. A tall, lanky body eased unsteadily out of the back seat
and shoved some bills at the driver. Logan recognized the slender form
immediately.

'Must've been an early night for the Cajun.' He smirked. It wasn't even 3:00
a.m. LeBeau usually didn't drag his sorry, soused ass in until about sunup.

Concealed by the foliage, he watched as Gumbo staggered to the gate lock and
searched for his key card in the deep pockets of his duster. The Acadian
shivered although it was about forty degrees or so. Logan snorted softly.

"Southerners." He smirked with a slight shake of his head.

Rogue was the same way. Unless it was ninety degrees outside, she was cold too.
But this Canuck was used to chilly climes and started sweatin' whenever it got
up to around sixty or so. Hank had told him once, that part of the problem were
his claws - and the adamantium lacing his bones.

Just as the metal could retain the cold, it also held onto his body heat and
tended to raise his internal temperature if he didn't pop those babies once in a
while. Logan didnt know about all that scientific stuff so he'd just shrugged
and nodded at whatever Henry had to say.

Gambit was still searching in vain for his keycard, slapping at his pockets
futilely. Logan kept up his surveillance as the cinnamon-haired thief finally
dug into his duster for a piece of lint. Finding one, the little fuzzball
sitting in his hand began to glow and he carefully placed it in the lock.

Big surprise, the gate didn't blow. The tiny explosion did however cause all the
exterior floodlights on the estate grounds to turn on.

"Who is it??" An irritated voice said over the intercom, and Logan recognized it
as belonging to that cork-assed prick, Scott Summers. Uncharacteristically
clumsy, the Cajun lurched toward the squawk box.

"It Remy, homme. Open de gate, s'il vous plait," he slurred, leaning toward the
intercom while holding onto the gate with one hand to steady himself.

"Where's your key card?" Cyke asked, sounding pissed off.

"Dunno. Gambit mus've leff it in 'is room."

"You know the rules, Gambit. No key card, no entry until 8:00 a.m.," Scott
replied rudely, then snapped the 'talk' key off. The two-way speaker went dead
and then the lights went out.

Remy was left alone in the dark outside the main gate. Feeling abandoned and
unwanted, he leaned his back against the iron gate with a despondent sigh.
Shivering,
he pulled his duster tighter around his body. Remy wasn't sure which was colder
actually, the night air or Cyke's attitude.

"Bastid," Logan heard the hammered Acadian murmur just before he slid almost
gracefully to the ground and plopped on his ass. He'd spent the night outside
before, when he was a pup.

~ Hadn't been so krottin' cold don in Luzianne, but it was only fuh a few hours.
~

'Dieu. Could stan' a leedle nip o' bourbon raight now, stave offa chill.'

Logan watched the shakin' Cajun from a distance. Heard him start humming a tune.
Even drunk, Gumbo had a pretty fair voice. Wasn't Pavarotti, but wasn't Pee-Wee
Herman neither.

Mademoiselle, voulez-vous danser
La bastringue, la bastringue?
Mademoiselle, voulez-vous danser?
La bastringue va commencer

Logan'd picked up enough Quebecquois ta know a fella was askin' a girl to dance.

Weh Monsieur, je veux bien danser
La bastringue, la bastringue
Weh Monsieur, je veux bien danser
C'est pour vous accompagner

Apparently, the Cajun thought he was pretty good too, 'cause he started
bellowin' at the top of his flamin' lungs!

Mademoiselle, vous savez danser
La bastringue, la bastringue
Mademoiselle, vous savez danser
Vous allez vous fatiguer

It was bad enough that LeBeau was singing his fool head off at 3 o' fucking
clock in the morning. But it'd be even worse if Dickless had ta get up and haul
his carcass into the house to shut him up. Logan might not trust the Cajun much,
but he liked Summers even less.

"Hey, Gumbo!" Logan rasped from his cover.

"Eh? Who dat?" Those weird, bleary, scarlet eyes roved around.

"Over here, to yer right."

"Heh, mec! Let git us a drank!!" Lebeau almost screamed, very glad to see... or
at least hear him. 'Someone tuh pahty wit'.

"Shhhh!! Keep yer voice down," Logan rasped softly, pulling his jeans back up
and zipping them quickly as he stood up and made his way over to the tipsy
Cajun.

"Fuh why? De connard lock ol' Remy out de hawse an' won't let 'im in." He told
him. Logan hurried over ta the gate, and just as he got there the wind shifted.

"Christ, Cajun!! What'cha been drinkin'??" Logan hissed as the smell hit him.
LeBeau gave him an angelic, cockeyed smile.

"Leedle o' dis, leedle o' dat." He sang softly, pretending to point out
imaginary bottles of booze hanging in the air in front of him.

No shit. Kid smelled like a goddamn distillery. Scotch, bourbon, rye, whiskey
and rum were the main ones, but there was a little bit of everything.

~ Includin' those flamin' pheromones. ~

Logan snorted, to get rid of the influx of scents, as he fished his own card
from his jean pocket and slid it through the lock. Gambit tried to get to his
feet and failed, looking up at the looming, thick shape standing over him like a
sleepy kid who was up way past his bedtime.

"Ya' know what Cyke's gonna do ta ya' in the mornin'?" Logan warned.

"Remy don' cayah. He can bec mon chu!" He replied, raising his voice to shout
over his shoulder at the darkened house up on the hill.

Logan sighed, realizing he was going to have to carry the sloshed thief to the
back door. He reached down, hefted the Acadian over his shoulder like a bag of
potatoes, closed the gate quietly and started jogging toward the back yard.

"What's that mean, Gumbo? 'Bec mon chu'?"

"Kiss Remy's rosy red ayass!" the Cajun nearly crowed, making Logan chuckle.

"'R'member when Drake threw a snowball at his nads last month?"

"Weh." LeBeau replied in his lazy Cajun drawl.

"Ten hours a day in the Danger Room? Seven days a week fer six weeks. You want
that too?"

"Gambit don' like trainin', mi." The Acadian griped.

"'That's why ya' need ta shut yer yap."

"Weh, Remy be quite as a leedle mawsie. Shhhh." He whispered, putting his finger
against his lips as if anyone could see him do it. In his drunken state, and
flung over Logan's shoulder, he found himself pre-occupied with Logan's
waistband. He flicked at the belt loops, then slid his fingers into the back
pockets.

"Cut it out, Gumbo." Logan hissed, reaching around to slap the hands away from
his ass.

"Ye got a nice ayass, mi." Remy told him, pulling his hands free from Logan's
grasp and sliding them back into the pockets, feeling the hard muscles working
as the Canadian carried him up the hill.

"Swear ta god, Cajun..." Logan warned, trying to reach back with his free hand.

"Wha'?? Jus' sayin'..." Remy replied, as he slipped one hand under the waistband
and grabbed Logan's bare ass lightly.

"Get yer friggin' hands outta my pants, Gumbo!" Logan hissed.

"But, mi... ye' get a nice body, mi. Ye so hard." Remy whined in his own
defense, as if the man's hard body gave him the right to touch it.

"You have no idea." Logan replied under his breath. But he didn't need to be
groped by another guy, he didn't swing that way and didn't plan to start now.

Logan finally made it to the back door without further incident. They'd left the
sliding glass doors unlocked. They always did so he could walk off a nightmare
or go on patrol if he couldn't sleep. It was cheaper than replacing the doors
every time he wanted out.

Everything was dark and still, but the hairy Canadian kept his eyes and ears
peeled for any sound or indication of movement. Wouldn't do for Dickless to
suddenly want a glass of warm milk and discover them sneaking along the hallways
like a couple of cat burglars.

Barefoot, he padded down the long hallways toward the bedrooms. 'God, that smell
o' blood.' He tried not to breathe too much, or too deeply.

The Cajun's room was relatively close to his and he deposited the sloppy
Southerner in front of his door. Gumbo managed to stay vertical. Barely.

"Wanna naightcap, vieux?" Remy breathed, looking down at the compact man with
one of those trademarked shit-eating grins. A fragrant, tangy odor suddenly
wrapped around Logan's head - a scent of lust and spicy, lazy, hedonistic
pleasure. He wanted to walk away, but couldn't make his feet work.

~ Shit. ~

The tall, auburn-haired Acadian rested his long arms on Logan's thick shoulders,
absorbing the man's increasing arousal like a junkie with a fix. Scarlet eyes
flared, and black pupils dilated, as they fed off each other.

A web of ensnaring pheromones enveloped Logan like a fog. LeBeau caressed his
cheek where the black stubble didn't grow and then traced downward to his neck,
and on to hairy naked chest.

"C...cut it out, Gumbo," Logan stammered, but found he couldn't move.

"Neh, homme. Remy knowed yuh wan' dis fuh a long time." Gambit replied, refusing
to stop what he was doing. The tendons of Logan's neck stood out like bridge
cables, but he was hypnotized by the double scent of menstruating women and
horny Cajun.

The Acadian stroked his nails lightly across Logan's chest, weaving his fingers
into the thick chest hair and searching out the hidden nipples underneath.
Against his other instincts, Logan's eyes drifted shut.

The Cajun's scent mixed with the influx of pheromones that already clouded his
mind: it was a heady combination and Logan couldn't ignore it, no matter how
hard he tried.

LeBeau watched as Logan's features relaxed. His eyes were now closed and his
head was tilted slightly back. His chest began to heave beneath Remy's hands and
his nostrils flared as he breathed in the different scents of sex that
threatened to suffocate him. Against his normal judgement, he let himself become
immersed in the sensual feel of the Cajun's gentle touch.

A soft smile appeared on Remy's lips as he watched Logan's reaction to his
ministrations. He continued to sweep his hands slowly across the massive torso,
lulling the Wolverine into a deeper state of relaxation. At the same time Remy
used the power of his charm to draw out Logan's need to be pleasured... and the
animal's primal need to mate.

Logan let out a moan that sounded like a soft growl and he swayed slightly on
his feet as he began to lose himself in the Cajun's charm. Remy never used his
charm power on his friends in order to manipulate them, but he had no problem
using it to lightly stroke an already existing desire into full awakening.

And the Wolverine's need to mate, to find sexual release and gratification under
the onslaught of so many femmes being 'in heat', and in such close proximity was
driving Logan close to the edge of sheer madness.

Remy wanted to give him that release, he'd wanted that for a very long time. He
wanted to feel that powerful body thrusting into him. He wanted to feel those
hard muscles beneath his hands, bunching up and relaxing as they worked
feverishly to bring him to his own orgasm.

LeBeau kept his eyes on Logan's face as he slowly lowered himself to his knees,
his hands gliding smoothly down to his teammate's narrow waist and that hard,
well-defined abdomen. Through his empathy, he'd felt the feral's arousal from
the moment they'd faced one another outside the front gate. Now, kneeling in
front of him, he could see Logan's arousal prominently hidden under the denim of
his jeans.

Gambit bit lightly on his lower lip as his eyes came to rest on the button at
the waist of Logan's pants. That was definitely the Cajun's favorite little
thing. Yeah, that whole combination. Hard muscled belly over narrow hips...
hairy, shirtless torso and... yeah... that button. That little tiny button. That
little tiny button unsnapped, to be precise... just like it was right now,
taunting him.

Remy leaned forward into Logan, still holding the man by the waist and opened
his mouth with only one thought... to feel the form of that erection beneath the
stretched material. As Remy pressed his mouth against Logan's crotch, feeling
the heat from within, he moved his lips very slowly along the bulge of the
hardened shaft. He felt it jump as Logan's belly tightened beneath his hands.

Logan gasped, and opened his eyes with a soft groan. Looking down at the
gorgeous creature kneeling in front of him, he reached forward to stroke the
Cajun's silky soft hair. He revelled in it's texture, softer than any woman's
he'd ever known. His skin was like fine porcelain and his lips... that mouth...
looked good enough to fuck.

Remy's strong, yet gentle hands with their long slender fingers worked magic
against his sensitive skin. And Logan's hands in the Cajun's hair - petting and
massaging - fueled Gambit's own arousal. Remy moaned into the hot denim sending
hot air and a slight vibration across the hardened shaft beneath making the man
above him growl softly.

Remy's eyes were closed and Logan gazed down at the long, thick lashes resting
against the pale cheeks, the sultry lips that were kneading his cock through his
jeans and, in reflex, he thrust forward slightly at the very sight of him.

Remy acknowledged the motion and slid his hands around Logan's hips, grabbing
his ass in both palms and pulling the man into him. Logan groaned and both his
hands came to rest atop LeBeau's head.

Realizing what he'd just done, Logan removed his hands from the soft red hair
and instead reached down to wrap his hands around Remy's arms. Logan applied
slow upward pressure, fighting the urge to let the Acadian continue and gently
pulled Gambit to his feet.

It took LeBeau a moment to realize that Logan was attempting to guide him away
from his throbbing cock. He resisted for only a moment, hoping Logan would
change his mind, but didnt want to force the man against his wishes and finally
relinquished his hold with a disappointed moan.

His disappointment lasted only a few seconds though. As he was pulled to his
feet, Remy came face to face with the shorter man. Looking down into Logan's
eyes, he could see they were now dark with heated lust and hidden passion.

Gambit's heart leapt to see such wanton desire in the Wolverine - a need so
powerful that it nearly overwhelmed the man - a need he knew Logan could no
longer ignore.

Remy exhilarated at the thought. He was going to get the chance to experience
that intense primal passion. Finally. He wanted to experience those dark animal
desires that belonged to the beast.

LeBeau reached behind him and slowly turned the doorknob. His bedroom door swung
open with a slight push as he stared into Logan's eyes, but Logan wasn't looking
back. He was staring unfocused ahead of him, drowning in the Cajun's charm,
immersed in the shared empathy - their shared arousal.

Remy could feel the animal's raging excitement through his empathy, but a bit
deeper down he could feel Logan's hesitance and confusion.

Patiently, Remy gave him a soft inviting smile, wrapped a hand around Logan's
arm and led him into the room. Logan followed without question. His mind was
blank, his need for release so great he couldn't think past it if he tried.

Inside the room, Remy guided the Wolverine behind him so he could close the
door, and did so quietly. As he turned around again, his hand still on
Wolverine's arm as he intended to lead Logan toward the bed, a large strong hand
grabbed him by the wrist.

Remy turned with a question already on his lips. 'Why you stop, mi? What da
problem, mec?' - that would be his rebuke of the man's refusal. Disappointment
rising quickly to the top, he turned sharply toward the Canadian, but stopped
himself before the words actually escaped him.

He could see it in the Wolverine's glare, in the jaw muscles spasming as Logan
clenched his teeth, in the tense rigid muscles, the flaring of nostrils as he
sucked in copious amounts of the Cajun's scent.

Gambit smiled warmly at the barely sentient man standing before him. He reached
up with one hand and placed his palm gently against the Wolverine's stubbled
cheek. The man-animal tilted his head into Remy's hand, pressing his face into
the warmth of the touch.

Feeling the animal's need becoming more desperate with every passing second,
Remy wasted no more time getting what he'd wanted for so long. And what he'd
wanted for so long... was this man, known by others as "The Wolverine".

This man. His teammate. His partner. His friend.

His desire, and his longing. His heart. His soul. His...

Logan.

He'd dreamt for so long, of Logan lying beside him. Feeling him in the darkness,
curling into him against the cold of the night. Feeling his presence there,
making him feel safe and warm and wanted.

Remy wanted to feel his breath against his face. His teeth against his flesh.
Hear his words whispered in breathless passion, or growled out in heated lust.
He wanted to feel that hard body against him. He wanted to smell the man's
sweat. Wanted to feel all that repressed power going through him. The strength
of the man, the power of the beast... he wanted to feel his hands, his mouth,
his...

~ Okay, truth be told... ~

Remy wanted to feel Logan's cock in his mouth. He wanted to feel that hot, hard
flesh sliding between his lips, engulfed in his warmth, gliding in and out over
his tongue... yes, tasting Logan's salty heat.

He wanted to feel Logan's cock lurch and surge as he finally comes deep in his
throat, shooting a thick jet of creamy spunk over and over again. Filling him
up, claiming him. Hear him howling his release as he - Remy imagined - swallowed
hard and fast trying to keep up with him.

Gambit couldnt hold back any longer. He knelt down again in front of Logan
cautiously, looking up at the shadowed face now looking down at him. He watched
the Wolverine for any sign of aggression as his hands slowly caressed Logan's
thighs.

Seeing none, he lowered his eyes to his target and absently licked his lips, as
he stared at that little silver button hanging open above the bulging zipper.
Remy reached up with one hand and laid it upon Wolverine's chest. Then he let it
glide downward, arousing the man more as Remy made his way toward his prize.

Logan's hand reached out and gently laid upon the Cajun's head, fingers petting
the silky mane as Gambit pinched the tab between his fingers and pulled the
zipper down slowly. As the denim separated on its own from the pressure of
Logan's arousal, Remy's eyes sparkled and a delighted smile arose on his lips.

There beneath the denim, lying just below his navel... "a treasure trail".
Well, that's what LeBeau liked to call that little strip of hair that led from a
man's navel straight to his pubis. As if pointing the way to the "hidden
treasure".

His eyes followed the trail to the thick dark hair nestling the base of Logan's
cock. He'd have to free it from its confinement and Remy's own cock sprang to
life at the thought of finally getting his heart's wish.

All he ever dreamed of lately was touching Logan and that beautiful hard cock
now hiding beneath the denim. Remy slid the jeans down off of Logan's hips just
far enough to let his erection pop free.

'Merde', Remy exclaimed silently at the sight of it. 'Nine inches o' thick hard
achin' meat strainin' fuh m' touch.'

Gambit reached up to stroke Logan's cock lightly with his fingers, just to get a
feel for the steel-hard appendage. His feather light touch produced a growl of
desperate need from the Wolverine, and Logan's knees buckled slightly as he
thrust forward involuntarily.

Remy grabbed onto him by the hips to steady him and looked up to meet a golden
gaze. The Wolverine didnt move. He barely blinked as he looked down upon the
Cajun at his feet.

"Ye' so beautiful, chere." The Cajun whispered softly, then he tugged the jeans
farther down Logan's thighs, to get an overall view of that incredibly hard
body.

Remy let his eyes drink in the form of the beautiful male creature standing over
him. Everything about the man was gorgeous. Everything.

He let his hands trail up and down the massive thighs, then up across the hips
and torso. Wolverine's eyes closed again, his breathing deepened as Remy's touch
sent him soaring.

Then one hand came down to cup his balls gently, to feel the weight of their
fullness. The hand massaged him gently and Gambit was rewarded with a deep,
reverberating sound from the Wolverine's chest.

'Ye' need release bad, mi.' Remy empathized silently.

Then, without any warning, Remy reached around with both hands to grab Logan's
ass again. He pulled Logan's hips forward and at the same time he buried his
face against the Canadian, taking him in full to the hilt in one move.

Unprepared, and taken by surprise, Wolverine yelled out. Pushing Gambit's head
away, he pulled back from the overwhelming sensation of those soft warm lips
suddenly engulfing him.

Remy pulled away to give him a moment to adjust, his hands still feeling the
muscles of an incredibly hard, round ass. He nuzzled his face against Logan's
hips, from one side to the other, moving his face along the sensitive lower
belly.

Gambit nuzzled against him, feeling the Wolverine's strong hands against the
back of his head. He whispered soothingly, as he let Logan's erection glide and
bob against his throat and chest. He let the man feel him. Let him get used to
the feel of him, before wrapping his mouth - more gently this time - around the
wide angry head again.

Hands came down to grip his hair tightly in response, as a throaty groan escaped
the man/beast before him. Gambit worked him slowly, more gently than he first
intended to, letting his tongue and throat muscles do incredible things to
Logan's senses.

It didn't take long for the two men to find a rhythm that suited them both. Remy
rocked back and forth, in unison with the hands pulling him gently forward then
letting loose, in perfect partnership.

Logan was everything that Remy'd dreamed. Hard and needy, passionate and
wanting, salty and hot. Oh yeah... hard, hot and tasty. Then Logan began to move
his hips, unable to stand still any longer. He had to pump, he had to thrust, he
had to fuck.

'Mon Dieu'.

The stocky man began to grunt and groan repeatedly, his thrusts becoming
stronger, his hands gripping LeBeau's hair almost painfully as his orgasm
neared. Remy could taste the syrupy sweetness of Logan's extreme arousal, as his
cock drooled in preparation. Pre-cum flowed steadily, filling the Cajun's mouth
and forcing him to pull back a bit to swallow over and over again.

The tightening of Remy's throat and the play of his tongue against the underside
of his cock, made Logan groan loudly with the pleasure of it. Alerted by the
sound and the forceful thrusts as Wolverine tried to push his cock straight down
Remy's throat, Gambit backed off a ways and concentrated on sucking around the
head.

Remy felt Logan's cock expand slightly in the heat of his mouth, the sensation
of suction and tight friction bringing him right to the very edge of climax.
Then Wolverine growled out loudly, as the Cajun relaxed his throat and took him
in all the way to the base.

Remy worked his tongue like a tightening, rolling wave against the sensitive
underside of Logan's member. Kneading the flesh, milking it, letting his tongue
snake up and down the steel-hard shaft as he lightly massaged Wolverine's balls.
Causing as much sensation as he could, feeling the tapping of the large head
against the back of his throat, he worked attentively and passionately.

A growl, a thrust and a deafening roar, then an explosive release as Wolverine
shot a thick jet of hot semen down the Cajun's throat. Gambit swallowed hard and
fast just to keep up, savoring the taste of Wolverine's cum as it coated his
throat, feeling the warmth of it as it slid down into his stomach.

The sounds of the animal's pain mixed with the song of the man's pleasure, and
Remy held him securely as Logan's entire body tensed and convulsed and gave him
over completely.

Remy took it all. Not just the release of Logan's orgasm, but all of it. Through
his empathy he shared his own excitement with the Wolverine, heightening the
feral's experience... and took all of Logan's feelings, physical and emotional,
back into himself.

And all of Logan's ecstatic pleasure coupled with Remy's and the thief cried out
his own pleasure as he came hard with his new lover. Gasping and groaning around
the cock in his mouth, he swallowed as fast as he could as his own climax soared
him to new heights.

And Remy's pleasure was sent back out to the Wolverine. It became a vicious
circle of one man's ecstasy feeding the other's orgasm and they came together,
crying out, gripping each other tightly - feral and thief - in the most erotic
display either had ever experienced.

Remy finally forced himself to close up his empathic powers and he gasped for
air as he let Logan's member slide from his mouth. As Wolverine's orgasm finally
slowed and his muscles began to relax, Logan bent forward, curling over Remy's
head and encircling him in a loving and sheltering embrace.

He couldn't speak yet, but he was conveying his feelings for the Cajun in a way
that Gambit understood. And Remy soaked up the feelings of love and appreciation
and possessiveness that rolled off the Wolverine in waves. It felt to Remy as if
he was being wrapped in a thick warm blanket, inside and out.

And the best part of it all was the warm feeling he got as he received Logan's
passion. Not just the feral's need to mate, but the man's inner passions. His
hidden desire, strong and unquestionable... for Remy LeBeau. He couldn't get
enough of that feeling. That feeling of being loved and wanted. He wrapped his
arms around Logan's thighs and rested his face against the man's hip, giving
back that which he was feeling.

After a few moments, Logan slowly straightened up. Remy looked up at him and
slowly began to tug the jeans farther down Wolverine's legs, hoping to slide
them off as Logan stepped out of them. That was not forthcoming however, as
Logan tensed and his eyes widened with the realization of what'd just happened.

Grabbing the waist of the pants in both hands tightly, Logan took a step
backward, staring at LeBeau with wide eyes. Remy released his grip and looked up
at him curiously, as Logan pulled his pants back up and fumbled with the zipper.
 

His mind was racing with the reality of what he'd just allowed to happen, and he
turned around looking for a way out. Remy picked up on Logan's confusion and
quickly got to his feet, concerned.

"Logan?" he said, trying to get the man's attention. Logan shook his head,
trying to dismiss the sound of Remy's voice as he tried to keep his back to
Gambit while securing his pants.

Remy watched as Logan repeatedly glanced over his shoulder, not to look at him
directly but to keep his position known. Logan was in near panic, his lips moved
as he mouthed his thoughts and his eyes darted about looking for escape.

"Logan? What is wrong, mon cher?" Remy asked, taking a step toward Wolverine.

"Gotta go." Logan said aloud. "Gotta... get out." He wasn't really talking to
LeBeau, but just kind of letting his thoughts spill out.

"Why?" Remy asked. "We din't do anyt'ing wrong, mi."

He could feel Logan's fear over what they'd just done. He hadn't planned that,
neither of them did. But Logan was attracted to him, Remy was sure of it. So why
was he so frightened? Why did he feel the need to escape?

Logan turned around to head toward the door, but Gambit was standing almost
directly between him and his escape route. The feeling of being cornered rose up
quickly inside him, but he didn't want to hurt Remy.

Logan fought down the animal's fear of being trapped and took a step backward,
away from the thief. Remy raised his chin slightly as he picked up the emotions,
suddenly alert to the battle going on inside his feral teammate. Gambit raised
his hands in front of him, palms out.

"It's okay, Logan. Not'ing gonna happen, mi. We're okay."

Wolverine glanced at him quickly a few times holding his head low. Remy stepped
back and to the side, clearing the path to the door. But he didnt want Logan to
leave, not like this. He knew the man's feelings, he knew the man cared for him.
Why was he frightened of that?

"Logan... please don't leave. We can talk about dis." Remy offered, trying to
stay calm. He desperately didn't want Logan to leave, but he didn't want to
force him to stay either.

"I know what ye' thinkin', mi... but it wa'nt laike dat... we bote know it."
Gambit tried to reason with him.

"Don't know what yer talkin' about, Cajun." Wolverine growled out.

"Remy know how ye' feel about 'im, mec. My empat'y tell me da truth." Gambit
informed him, and Wolverine shook his head in denial. "Ye' can pretend ye' don',
homme. Ye' can even try ta believe it, but da empat'y... it don' lie."

"Yer crazy, Gumbo." Wolverine snarled.

"Oui, cher. Gambit crazy fuh you." Remy admitted. Finally, after all these years
he could say it. He could tell the man how he felt, knowing for sure that Logan
felt the same way... even if he wouldn't say it.

Logan's emotions flared for a brief moment, then was socked away quickly. But
LeBeau's empathy picked up on the flash immediately. The thought of being wanted
by the tall Acadian made Wolverine's heart skip a beat but the feral wouldn't
acknowledge it.

And Remy knew...

It was obvious to him now. Until this moment, Logan had been strictly for the
ladies and his feelings for LeBeau were confusing him.

The atavistic side of him - the alpha male, the wolverine - held onto the innate
desires of the primal beast... the desire to mate. To breed and pass on his
strengths to the next generation.

The needs of the alpha, the very purpose of an alpha is to do just that. To
procreate - to sire offspring - to make the next generation even stronger than
the one preceding it... to ensure survival of its kind. And to do that, the male
needs the female.

It was difficult enough being a mutant. In fact, the entire mutant cause was
based on the fact that they were all inherently rooted to humanity.

But Logan's mutation brought him a step further. He had to fight desperately to
hold onto his humanity, as his very mutation tried hard to pull him into the
more atavistic side of being human. The animalistic side.

He is the primal beast that dwells within every human being... mutant or not. He
is beast within us all that is ignored and denied of its existence.

The Wolverine and those like him - the ferals - were the ugly reminder of
humanity's beginnings. For all their pretenses at civility and for all their
rules and laws, the rest of society persecuted Logan for what he was... even his
fellow mutants.

With the revelation that his emotional and sexual needs could be met by another
male... well, the knowledge of that was throwing the Wolverine's precarious
balance into chaos. To ignore his purpose as an alpha... would make Logan
obsolete.

'Dat is only in da mind of da beast, Logan.' Remy told him silently. And just
as he finished that thought, Logan bolted for the door.

Remy watched him go, slamming through the door and racing down the hall. He
could feel the enormous mix of emotions coming off his teammate. Logan wanted to
stay... the beast wanted to go, he wanted to punish Logan for what'd just taken
place.

Gambit's expression hardened suddenly. His jaw muscles pulsed as he gritted his
teeth hard and his knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists in... what?
Not quite anger, but... determination.

He'd gotten so close. So close to having what he'd wanted for so long. So close
to giving Logan what he himself needed for so long. Love. Safety. Comfort.
Purpose.

LeBeau made up his mind right then and there. The beast wasn't going to win that
easily. The Wolverine would not win this fight for love without an all out war,
if that's what it was going to take.

He headed for the door with the intention of chasing Logan down. Before he got
there, he halted with a thought. He looked over his shoulder at his bedside
table, then back to the open door. Making up his mind, Remy marched over to the
table and opened the drawer.

Reaching inside, he quickly grabbed something and deposited it in his pocket,
before turning and storming out the door with long, powerful strides that made
his duster billow out behind him and his auburn hair bounce around his
shoulders. Slamming the door without care, he went in search of Logan.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

TBC