Tag

Gambit woke in a tangle of sweat soaked sheets, opened his eyes and
squeezed them shut again, groaning.  It was far to early for a thief to
be up - early afternoon by the miserable blaze of the sun.  And he was
hot.  To hot to sleep.

"Mais."  He kicked the sheet off and lay panting for a few moments
before the stuffy heat drove him up into the bright summer sun
streaming through his window.  He fumbled for his shades first thing,
reducing the light to a bearable level, then found a clean T-shirt and
pair of gym shorts.  Barefoot, Remy padded out into the blessedly dim
hallways of Xavier's ancestral home now a School for Gifted Youngsters.

Several students were slouched dispiritedly on the relatively cool
hardwood floors of the third story, fanning themselves and grumbling.
Gambit stopped.  The students' should all be tucked away in their
classrooms learning physics or English literature or whatever the
professor thought they should learn.  The Cajun - recently given a
grudging position on the X-men - had little to do with the school he
believed was nothing more than a front for the mutant team.  His
upbringing had left him little opportunity for education and Remy - who
was barely literate - avoided the classes despite several invitations
by Ororo.  He had no interest in displaying weakness in front of the
near strangers he fought beside.  They thought little enough of him as
it was.

"Whats de' problem, petite pusson?"  Remy nudged Jubes with a toe.  He
knew the slender young woman as Wolverine's favorite and little beyond
that.  And, of course, she was a mutant.  "Why so hot?"

"Damn city's having a brown out!  They don't know how long it's going
to last."  Jubilation whined, cracking her endless supply of gum.
"We're all roasting in here.  And it's hotter outside!  And there's no
TV, no radio - I'm gonna die!"

Remy walked past her, leaving her litany of complaints behind.  The
sixty or so students were draped on the stairwell, in the hallways or
anywhere else it was dark and - hopefully - cooler.  He could already
hear several arguments heating up among the kids and his shoulders
twitched uneasily.  All these half-grown kids with enough power to take
over a third world country, losing their temper at once.  Didn't the
professor have a generator for the school?  Didn't they have a swimming
pool at least?"

He found Scott, the professor and Jean in the still shady side dining
room and hesitated at the doorway, wondering if he was welcome.  Well,
he knew he wasn't welcome, but some people were trying to pretend he
was.  Remy had made too many enemies to be other than grateful for the
grudging sanctuary he was getting now.

"Gambit."  The professor smiled and Remy took a seat, waving a piece of
paper to try to stir the air.  He took a moment to appreciate Jean's
sleeveless thin shirt, plastered to her breasts with sweat.  Perky
nipples.  Scott watched him without even the hint of an expression
beneath those red shades but Remy could taste the hostility in him.

"Remind Gambit not play poker w'you - eh, Cyclops?"  Remy grinned.

Scott wiped his sweaty forehead and turned back to the professor,
ignoring him.  Remy let the smile stay, false as Scott's controlled
quiet, and leaned back in his chair.

"No generator?"  He asked, wondering if the professor could really have
been so stupid.

"Oh, we have one."  Scott answered, cool enough to drop the temperature
a couple of degrees.  "Dedicated to the hospital and the security.
Hank's down in the facilities with Bobby and a couple of other students
who can't tolerate the high temperatures."

"Ororo?"

"Keeping an eye on the younger kids in the pool."  Jane said, yawning.
"Cancelled classes until it cools down."

"Bien."  Remy shrugged and, when no one started up a conversation,
wandered out.  He wondered again, why he was with such a dull bunch of
do-gooders.  Recalled that most everyone fun he knew was out for his
blood.  Maybe a little peace and quiet was a good idea.  Good and
boring.  Remy hated being bored.  He smiled to himself, little more
than an ironic bearing of teeth.  That was probably why so many people
wanted to see him dead.

Logan was sitting on the porch shaded by the boston ivy and drinking
warm beer.  Remy watched him from a window for a few moments.
Wolverine was the strange one, the dangerous one, and he made Remy
curious.  He knew little about any of the X-men, no one wanted to tell
a thief their secrets, but the ugly Canadian was the only one who
didn't betray himself in a hundred tiny gestures every time Remy spoke
to him.  For a man with such a bestial reputation, Wolverine was the
most self-contained person Remy had ever met.

Sure, he was a bundle of instincts and emotions - as foul tempered as
his foul smelling cigars - but he was the man who was keeping more
secrets than Remy.  He was also, in the Cajun's opinion, the glue that
held the X-men together.  Scott was the leader of the X-men and Remy
could admit - if only to himself - that he was a good leader but
Wolverine was the anchor.  When things went south, it was Wolverine
everyone depended onto pull them all out.  It was Logan who smoothed
ruffled feathers when Jean was on a tear or Scott was having one of his
uptight moments and it was Logan who would decide Gambit's fate among
the mutant superhero team.  For all of Remy's considerable charm and
his talent for reading people, he hadn't yet been able to trick his way
into the man's good graces.

The Canadian's battered army surplus - or perhaps Wolverine was a war
veteran - boots were planted firmly on the railing and he had a brown
bottle of beer propped on his stomach as he slouched in a wicker chair.
He was wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves
torn out.  His half-grown beard looked more moth eaten than usual and
he looked miserable in the summer heat wave.  Remy could see sweat
beading on his forehead from here and Logan's eyes were half-closed in
drowsy, overheated discomfort.  He looked like a great, sullen bear;
wicked claws hidden away but the threat of violence hung around him
like the smoke from his cigar.  The irritated frown explained why he
was here alone - no one wanted to be near the Wolverine when he was in
this kind of mood.

Remy scratched at his ribs and sighed, still watching the other man
through the window.  Boring.  Everything was boring.  He was going to
lose his mind. Wolverine knocked back the rest of his beer then glared
at the bottle, grimacing.  Sighed and wiped his face with the back of
his hand then settled lower in the chair and closed his eyes, obviously
determined to sleep through the heat.  Even Wolverine was boring today.
With a sudden, wicked grin, Remy headed back upstairs.

It was Bobby's room he wanted and the boy was down in the basement
keeping his cool.  Remy slipped inside the young mutant's room and
closed the door quietly behind himself.
He stepped over a pile of dirty laundry and began to search, replacing
each item in it's former position with the precision of years of
experience.  Gambit was a very good thief.
He found what he was looking for under a half eaten package of double-
stuffed Oreo's and, with a brief stop in the second floor boys'
bathroom, made his quiet way back downstairs.

The sun cast a brassy glare across the grass and even the shade under
the trees was not very welcoming.  Remy wiped his already sweating
forehead and adjusted his glasses.  This New York heat wasn't much like
the ripe womanly summers of New Orleans.  It was more like being shot.
Walking around front, the thief glanced at the porch where Logan still
drowsed, ignoring Remy.  The thin Cajun smiled.  The famous Wolverine
wouldn't be ignoring him for much longer.

Frowning, Remy took a good guess on his range, aimed and shot.

"Wadda fuck!?"  Logan bellowed as the stream of water hit him full in
the face.

With a whoop of triumph, Remy took off across the sunny front yard,
waving the water pistol over his head.  There was a crash behind him
and he risked one look back.  His eyes widened and he swung around and
put his energy into running.  The short man was faster than he looked
and he was barreling full speed after the thief with bared teeth and a
flushed (and wet) face.  Remy put his long legs to good use and
sprinted towards the trees at the edge of the property.

Nearly an hour later, Remy realized that he was faster but he couldn't
run forever.  "Damn healing factor - merde. "

Panting, open mouthed and trying to be quiet, Remy was crouched under a
bee heavy lavender bush in the formal hedge maze.  He knew Logan was
somewhere nearby.  He just wasn't sure where.  His sweat sodden T-shirt
clung to his long narrow body and he knew his scent must be what Logan
was so doggedly following.  Over hills, through woods, past a near
dunking in the reflecting pond out front and the Wolverine was still
after him.

Legs shaking with tension, Remy wondered if rabbits felt this way.  Run
or hide?  Hide or run?  He heard what might have been footsteps and he
froze, heart hammering.  Could Logan hear that?  A shadow crossed the
brickwork path and Remy crouched lower under the lavender, hoping the
strong flower scent would hide his own.

There was a snarly rumble and Remy leapt up as Logan crashed through
the bush in a flurry of bees and purple flowers.

"Ahhh - non! S'v plait! S'v plait!"  Remy wailed, laughing, as Logan
got a grip on one arm.  He slithered free, shirt tearing and took a
running leap over a bench.  "Jus playing'  Gambit jus playin!  Don kill
me!"

Logan, following close behind, launched himself off the bench Remy had
leapt over and took down the thief in a full body tackle.  In a flurry
of grass and flowers, they both went down.

Logan crouched on his hands and knees over the lanky thief, giving him
a toothy grin.  "Just playin' are y?"

Remy nodded enthusiastically, gasping for breath.  Heat from Logan's
body rolled down over him as well as a strong, wild scent.  Sweat
striped the Canadian's ragged T-shirt, beaded in his hairline and
dampened the denim of his shorts.  He watched Logan's nostrils flare as
the man tested his scent and felt like a puppy, belly up in
supplication while the big dog decided what to do with him.

He was suddenly, intensely aware of Logan's weight, his heat and
closeness and Remy's heart thumped with something other than fear.  The
Canadian's grin widened.

"Yeah.  I'm playin' too and when I play - I win."  Logan said softly,
shifting to settle his himself astride Remy's narrow hips.  He rocked
slightly and Remy felt his cock stiffen against his hip.  Logan leaned
down to nuzzle his neck.  "Y'like this game?"

Squinting in the bright sunlight, Remy lifted his hips a little
uncertainly.  Was the other mutant testing him?  Teasing him?  What was
the right thing to do?  "Dis a little public, oui?"

Logan snorted.  "No one's gonna be outside in this heat."

Remy lay quietly under Logan as the other man's lips touched his ear.
Warm breath, heavy with beer and cigars, breezed down his sweating neck
and the sudden gentle flick of a tongue made him gasp.  He moved,
closing his hands on Logan's shoulders, hanging on as those exploring
kissed grew more insistent.

"Mm - taste good."  Logan muttered, mostly to himself.

"Sweating like a pig, homme."  Remy murmured.  "An stink t'high
heaven."

"Smell good t'me."

"Dat how you found me, eh?"

Logan chuckled.  "Kid, you ain't the first one t'try to hide in that
garden.  Know the place by heart now."

"Ah -"  Remy broke off when Logan ran a hand under his shirt, quickly
finding a nipple and rolling it in his fingers.  Still uncertain, but
starting to not care, Remy spread his hands across Logan's shoulders.
Big.  The man was big.  And he should be threatening but Remy didn't
feel trapped - he felt sheltered.  He tipped his head back and felt
Logan's mouth stroke wet along his pulse.  "Dieu."

Logan rumbled softly.  His hands were pushing into Remy's shorts.  At
the first, startling touch, Remy cried out and slid his hands into
Logan's black hair.  He kissed the other mutant, as much to silence his
own moans as to taste him.  Logan's teeth were sharp but his kisses
were gentle.  Making soft little growls, Logan pressed his tongue into
Remy's mouth as he pressed his hand down the thief's loose pants.  Remy
moaned into his mouth and rocked up.  His knees drew up, spreading
around Logan's solid hips, the Canadian settled closer with a long
sigh.

Still a little unsure, Remy let his hands wander down Logan's heavily
muscled back.  The other man was mouthing his way down Remy's throat,
finding all his sensitive spots like he had a map.  Remy scratched the
back of Logan's neck lightly, the man shuddered and sucked hard on
Remy's neck above the pulse point.

"Oh, merde -"  Remy breathed, pushing against Logan's hands.  "Bein, ah
- bein s'v plait."

"Don't speak French, gumbo."  Logan muttered.

"Un - jus feel good, me."

"Mn.  That's the point."

Logan was pushing his shirt up and Remy sat up and peeled it off.  He
fell back into the grass with a gasp when Logan's mouth closed on a
nipple. He clutched at the man's hair, holding him there, savoring the
spreading ripples of pleasure as a warm tongue stroked him over and
over.  The Canadian was rubbing his cock through the thin shorts and
the thief began to push insistently into his hand.

"More?"  He panted, hooking a thumb in the waistband of Logan's shorts
and tugging hopefully.

"Yeah - "  Logan leaned back and grinned down at him, mouth wet.  Remy
reached out and unzipped his shorts, he eased Logan's cock out and
licked his lips.  It was big, Remy flushed.  He liked big.  Twisting
gracefully around, Remy bent and licked the head.  Logan jerked and
reared up on his knees, cock slipping from Remy's mouth to bump his
cheek and nose.  "Shit!"

"Mebee you lie back, eh?  So you don knock Remy out wid dat?"

Chuckling, Logan settled back on the grass, in the dappled shade
underneath the abused lavender bush.  Remy settled between his legs,
running a hand up the man's hairy thigh.  Logan shifted a little
restlessly, cock quivering.  With the sound of the bees in his ears and
the clean scent of lavender mixing with the strong musk of Logan's
cock, Remy bent and took him in.  Logan groaned, on hand falling onto
the back of Remy's head, the other fisting in the long grass.

He licked his way to the heavy balls nestled between Logan's legs.
Sucked on him there, dark hair prickly on his lips and tongue.  Logan
hissed softly, rolling his hips against Remy's face, moving to stroke
himself as the thief teased his balls with a clever tongue.  Remy
grinned, he could feel Logan's building urgency, and he could feel how
much the man liked it too.  Sharing it made Remy ache pleasantly low
down, his cock tenting up his gym shorts and dampening the front.

He licked along the underside of the shaft, licking Logan's fingers too
as he fisted himself lazily.  Logan groaned and pushed his fingers into
Remy's mouth  The thief sucked until Logan growled impatiently and
tugged on his hair.  Kneeling over Logan's body, Remy traced the crown
of Logan's cock with a tongue tip. He flicked into the dripping slit,
mouth watering a the taste of the man.  Finally took him in his mouth,
smiling around the shaft at Logan's raw moan.

The Canadian was already arching up, struggling for more depth.  Remy
went down, swallowed, and took him all in.

"Oh, Jesus - Remy -!"  Logan dug his heels into the grass and thrust
into the wet, willing heat.  Remy only murmured around the flesh in his
mouth and began to bob rhythmically, cheeks hollowing as he sucked.

Logan's cock felt good;  hard, hot and heavy.  Remy's eyes drifted
closed.  He drew hungrily on Logan, one hand moving down to play with
the man's tightening balls.  Logan jerked and gasped his name again,
hand closing in his hair.  The thief could feel him getting close, feel
the speeding pulse in the cock in his mouth, feel the tight deep ache
in Logan.  Remy's hips moved in response, sharing the ache.  He sucked
harder, wanting Logan to come.  Wanting to feel Logan coming.  The man
was rocking up to meet him, pre-cum dribbling into Remy's mouth.  And
he was close - no - sliding over the edge.  Remy moaned, muffled.  Yes.
Now.  *Now*.  Logan choked back a shout, surging up, Remy swallowed the
rush of fluid and sank down to milk the cock until the other man
stopped trembling.

He leaned back and licked his lips, looking down at Logan as the man
caught his breath.  The Canadian blinked lazily in the sun and yawned,
stretching - muscles rippling in his belly and arms.  Remy shivered,
still hard and hungry.  "Don go to sleep there, homme.  Remy not played
out yet."

"Mmm."  Logan sighed.  "Come up here then, gumbo."

Under Logan's urging hands, Remy skinned out of his shorts and moved up
to straddle the man's shoulders.  He stared past his cock at Logan's
grin and wondered if he really wanted to put his cock between those
sharp teeth.

"Not gonna bite Remy, are you?"

Logan's smile widened - merde - those canines were *sharp*.  "Not so
you'd notice, kid.  I ain't gonna hurt ya."

The man lifted his head and tongued Remy's balls.  The thief shuddered
and discovered he really didn't care.  So long as he could come first.
Talk about thinking with your head.  He braced himself with his hands
in the grass, leaning over the Canadian, and watching as his cock slid
into Logan's mouth.  His eyes fluttering shut behind the dark glasses,
Remy was sure he was going to loose it.  He stiffened until the urge
passed.  Logan's hands came up and gripped his ass, pulling him down.

"Dieu!"  Remy gasped as his balls slapped Logan's chin and his cock was
sucked into the heat of the man's mouth.  He felt the chuckle on his
cock and moaned, rocking.  Incredible heat and perfect sucking.
Perfect.   Logan' s mouth was perfect. He was thrusting, dropping his
head to watch as he fucked Logan's mouth.  The Canadian's eyes were
closed, brow furrowed in concentration.  His wet shaft glistened in the
light, sliding past soft lips and the barest graze of sharp teeth over
and over - and over.  His arms were trembling, Remy's thrusts getting
ragged, irregular as he panted Logan's name.  "So - good, Logan - Logan
- encule moi.  Uh - oui.  Oui."

One of the Canadian's hands moved a finger slipping between Remy's
flexing cheeks, probing - finding and pushing against his asshole.
Remy arched, cried out briefly and was flooding Logan's mouth.  Then he
collapsed onto his elbows, gasping for breath.  He shuddered.  The
Canadian's tongue was still languidly stroking his softening cock.  So
good.  Remy closed his eyes and, when Logan patted his ass, rolled off
the man's face to sprawl in the grass, wearing nothing but a T-shirt
and a pair of glasses.

Logan was shifting next to him, then paused to kiss the thief.  "All
y'gotta do t'win is change the rules, huh Cajun?"

Remy opened his eyes confused.  Logan was standing over him and when he
was sure Remy looking he grinned and shot.

"Ahhh -! Non!"  Remy rolled, snatching his shorts as Logan bellowed
with laughter and snapped another off shot with the water pistol,
hitting him squarely on his bare ass.  Remy was leaping for cover,
struggling to put his pants back on and praying that no one was
watching as the Canadian chased him, waving the water pistol and
laughing.

END