A Reasonable Compromise
Chapter 2
by
FyrDrakken
WARNING: I cannot stress this enough -- this story is Rogue/Gambit; Logan/Gambit; Logan/Rogue. That means m/m slash is a major part of this story.
If this squicks you, read no further! If you're curious, read on...
Archive: WR fanfic archive and X-Men Movie Fanfic archive, anyone else ask -- answer will no doubt be yes, but I do like knowing where my stuff goes! :-)
Disclaimer: Marvel owns much, Bryan Singer kicks ass, Hugh Jackman is eminently lickable, the story is bloody well my own.
Feedback: Questions, comments and snide remarks will receive guaranteed responses. As an Elitist Fic Bitch in good standing, I welcome constructive criticism -- if there's a problem in something I've written I *really* want to know about it so I can fix it!
Author's Note: I've read enough of the comics to know that Remy LeBeau is a New Orleans native who readily admits he can barely speak French, and I have enough dealings with my Cajun cousins not to be able to give him the Parisian accent the comic writers have mistakenly foisted on him. That's why I've written his dialogue the way I have...
Inspiration/Blame: Jenn was not only the one who sent me on to Jane St. Clair's All the Animals (a fabulous read and if you're interested go check it out --- it has L/S and managed to convert me to the slashable view of Logan without ruining my take on his essential character), but she was the one who brought me into the Musical Beds revolving-door X-Smut anthology, and she was the one who kept demanding more and more of this via AIM. She also volunteered for human shield duty... ;-D
Dedication: To the women I overheard during my lunchbreak at work the day I began writing this, complaining about a lesbian subplot being introduced on ER and expressing their beliefs as to the damnatory consequences of such
activities...
Note:
[ ] = Thoughts
* * = Emphasis
/ / = Rogue reliving a bit of borrowed memory
"whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel
like i am free again whenever i'm alone with
you you make me feel like i am clean again
however far away i will always love you however
long i stay i will always love you whatever
words i say i will always love you i will always
love you"
-- Snake River Conspiracy, covering "lovesong" by The Cure
* * *
"Ready to go?" Logan's room being almost as familiar territory to her as Remy's or her own, Rogue opened the door and walked in after only a token knock. Remy being out picking up a new student, with Cyke of all people, Marie was free to spend the evening shooting pool with Logan at their favorite local dive.
"Just about," Logan said, putting his wallet into his back pocket.
While he turned to the closet to get his jacket, she took another couple of steps into the room, bringing her around the end of the bed -- and stopped. The comforter on the bed hung most of the way to the floor at the corner -- but a bit of contrasting fabric could be seen underneath one edge. Contrasting fabric in a familiar pattern.
Bending to lift the edge of the comforter, Rogue reached underneath and pulled out a pair of boxers in an eye-glaringly obnoxious turquoise-and-purple paisley. They looked absolutely identical to one of a set she had bought Remy the previous summer as a joke. The major difference between these and the more familiar pair were the triple slices down the front of these underpants, reaching from the waistband completely down to the legholes...
Turning to face Logan, she asked disbelievingly, "Are these -- these aren't...?" His sudden shocked pallor and guilty look were all the reply she needed. "Oh my God," she whispered numbly, letting the boxers fall to her side forgotten. "What...?"
"Marie, wait..."
"How -- how long have these been here? How *long* have you been...?"
"Marie -- "
"Don't you 'Marie' me!" she snapped, shock giving way to anger. "What the hell have you been *doing* -- as if I couldn't guess?"
"But you -- you said you didn't care, when I asked. That you weren't going to let it bother -- "
"How *dare* you?! Just where the fuck do you get off? HOW COULD YOU TELL ME TO DUMP REMY FOR CHEATING ON ME WHEN **YOU** WERE THE ONE FUCKING HIM?!"
Logan winced. When she made a move for the door, he managed to get there first. Leaning against it to keep her from leaving, he begged, "Marie, wait, listen to me..."
"Logan, if you don't get away from that fucking door I swear to God I'll send you to the Medlab for a solid fucking *month*..."
"Fine, then touch me if that's what it takes. Or hear me out..." She froze in shock, and he took advantage of the respite. "Marie, I couldn't stand it, I couldn't think what else to do, I knew you wouldn't want me to kill him and I couldn't deal with him any other way."
"What...?"
"...Marie, I hate his guts. Utterly. I wanted him dead. But I didn't want to hurt you -- and you wanted him. And whenever he'd come around me smelling like you, I just couldn't think straight, but I knew you wouldn't want me to kill him, and it was the only other thing I could do..."
"What...?"
"...I just had to grab him and try to get every last bit of your scent off him. And he didn't fight much, and he liked most of it, and it made him *so* much easier to deal with being around -- well, once he figured out not to flirt with me in public, and when you said you knew and you didn't care I thought it was going to be all right -- sort of..."
"...Logan, are you saying...? Why...?"
"...Marie, I love you. I have since I met you, and you were too young -- I'm probably old enough to be your *grandfather*, for Chrissakes -- and I went away to let you grow up before I tried to do something illegal with a teenaged girl, and when I came back you had *him*, and I wanted to kill him so *bad*..."
"...What...?"
"...I love you, and I can't stand seeing you with him, or being around him, but I wasn't ready to just pack up and leave and not see you anymore, and it was tearing me up inside, and this was the only thing that was keeping me from doing something *really* bad to him..."
"...You love me...?"
"Yes... Touch me and see for yourself." He held a hand out to her pleadingly.
It was that more than anything else that convinced her. Hadn't Remy made her promise never to use her power on him to look at his thoughts, ever? Yet here was Logan volunteering to show her anything and everything she wanted to know from him.
She crossed the few steps separating her from him in a dream, taking his hand and moving even closer, pressing him against the door.
She didn't use her power until her lips met his, and his arms wonderingly rose around her. He had never felt her gift after she had gained control, so he hadn't expected it to be so painless. Merely taking thought and memory was so much easier than taking the power or life energy from a person, being the things that leaked through first if she got a bit careless.
After a moment, she stopped and pulled her lips away. Thoughtfully resting her forehead against his cheek, she stopped to let the newly-absorbed memories swirl and settle. Little flickers of recall danced up for review and were replaced by others.
/Remy, reeking of Marie (herself) and of desire, blissfully tangling his fingers in her (Logan's) hair as she (he) desperately chased down each lingering trace of maddening scent/
/Marie (herself) sitting next to her (Logan) on the couch in the rec room, unbearably burning untouchable attraction within an arm's reach that couldn't be bridged/
/Jean, wide eyes and scent loudly proclaiming shock and disbelief, "He, ah, seemed to think that you were upset because you found him attractive"/
/Opening her (his) bedroom door at the sound of a passing footstep, catching the familiar swirl of mingled scents and yanking Remy inside because she (he) needed to do something desperate and violent *right now*/
Logan held her close while she examined the new perspective gained, and as she assimilated the newly-borrowed knowledge she gradually became aware of the pounding heartbeat she was pressed closely enough to feel, and his roughened breathing. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, noticing his closed eyes and furrowed brow. Her new awareness suggested to her that being so close to her was probably serving as a form of erotic torment, and when she shifted position slightly she could feel the beginnings of an erection pressed against her.
"So," she murmured softly. He opened his eyes slowly and turned his head to meet her gaze. The new insight helped her to identify the roil of emotions lurking in the hazel eyes -- pain, guilt. Lust, anger, lingering panic. Love. "So. You love me..."
Faint spark of humor, flicker of hope. "Yes."
"And you think I could do better than Remy."
Strengthening hope, beginnings of a smile quirking one corner of his mouth. "Yes."
Lifting a hand, tracing one finger along one lower lip before brushing lightly over one sideburn. "Care to show me *how* much better?"
She had only a fraction of a second to catch the blaze that kindled to life in his eyes before he ducked his head forward and kissed her. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, pressing herself into the solid-muscled body against hers. When he ran his tongue along her lower lip, she willingly parted her lips and let him turn the kiss into something hot and exploratory.
Running her hands up under his shirt, she examined the contrast between the furry muscularity under her fingers and the slimmer hairlessness her hands were used to. He growled low in his throat, wrapping his arms around her even more tightly if that was possible. Shifting his attentions from her lips, he began working his way down her jawline to one ear, hot breath tickling as he nuzzled earnestly at her earlobe. She whimpered as he ran his tongue along the corner of her jaw, and tugged upward at his shirt, suddenly needing bare flesh.
He complied willingly enough and started unbuttoning her blouse as soon as his shirt was removed. Peeling it off of her, he kissed her throat, upper chest, and between her breasts before reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. She shrugged out of it eagerly, pressing herself against him for the new sensation of hair tickling at her sensitive breasts.
He groaned softly, reaching one hand up to cup around a smooth breast while holding her close with the other arm. Stroking the nipple with his thumb, he bent forward for another kiss. She happily reached into his mouth with her tongue, stroking it along his lower lip before setting up a suggestive back-and-forth rhythm against his own tongue.
He whimpered desperately and ducked his head to her breasts. While he began licking -- delicately at first but then more urgently -- all around the nipple of the breast he wasn't already holding, she combed her fingers through his dark hair. Clinging to him for balance, she kicked off her shoes and managed to remove her socks with her toes before pulling back and leading him in the direction of the bed.
Willingly taking the hint, he pulled the bedclothes back and swept her off her feet, depositing her on the mattress. He paused long enough to deal with his own shoes, and when he turned back to the bed she was stripping off her pleather trousers. When she made a move to do the same with her panties, he stopped her. "Let me get those," he growled seductively in her ear, sitting on the bed beside her. She gave him an impish grin, and he leaned down for another kiss before standing back up long enough to peel off his own jeans. He left his own boxers on and lay down beside her.
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down for another kiss, hooking one leg around his. He began kissing his way down her throat, back to her breasts, and then down her belly. At her navel he paused, met her eyes, and with a wicked look hooked two fingers into the waistband of her panties. Slowly, reveling in every little bit uncovered, he slipped them down her legs, then tossed them aside and ran his hands over her thighs.
Parting them gently, he shifted position and after a good, hard, dizzying sniff he began kissing and licking the areas in between. Marie gasped and tangled her hands in his hair. He growled happily at the scent, the taste, the way her legs were tensing to either side of him, the unselfconscious noises she was making. "Oh, Logan... Oh, God... My God... LOGAN!" He gave her one good hard back-to-front lick and began working on her clitoris, alternating sucking with hard tongue rubs. When she cried out and arched her back, he grinned to himself and kept nuzzling.
A few minutes after her first orgasm she was whimpering again. Ready for a change in tactics, Logan pulled away and raised himself to his knees. Opening her eyes when he stopped and raising herself to her elbows, Marie saw him reaching for the waistband of his boxers. "Here, let me," she purred as she sat up. Slowly easing them down his legs and leaving them around his knees, she reached happily for the items thus revealed. Logan growled low in his throat as she began rubbing his penis, circling the head of it with her thumb while using her other hand to gently caress his testicles. Reaching back down between her thighs with one hand, he found her still damp and quivering. Massaging her clit with two fingers, he told her, "Lie back."
She accepted the suggestion, and as he moved to his knees and elbows above her, she once again reached for his penis. Guiding him to the right spot, she moaned low in her throat as he sank deeply into her. Marie pressed her thighs against his, feet tucked around his calves, and wrapped her arms around him as though never to let him go. Logan growled softly, eyes closed and face pressed to her neck, taking a moment to enjoy the scent and feel of being unbelievably intertwined with the woman he loved, before beginning to move.
Marie took a moment to pick up his rhythm before begin to nudge her hips upward to meet his thrusts. "Oh... Logan... Oh... yes... Logan... Oh... God...," she whispered. He lifted his head and opened his eyes, wanting to watch her face mirroring the growing tension, delight, and eventual release. When she dug her nails into his back he groaned low in his throat and increased his pace, and when he felt her tensing beneath him and heard her cry his name in his ear he whimpered, but it was feeling the rhythmic spasms deep within her when she came that pushed him over the edge.
"OHGODMARIE!" he dimly heard himself cry. Her face blurred for an instant as his nervous system overloaded with orgasm, and when his vision cleared her eyes had opened and she was studying him tenderly.
Reaching one hand up to ruffle his hair and tease along one sideburn, she murmured, "That was a pretty good demonstration."
He grinned. "It ain't over yet, baby..." Beginning to move his hips against hers again, she felt him restiffening within her. Marie gave him a startled look, then smiled appreciatively.
With a shove of heel and elbow against the mattress, she was able to roll him over, winding up on top. Shifting her thighs, she settled into a comfortable position kneeling astride him. Logan raked her with an appreciative up-and-down glance before giving her a lecherous grin and sliding his hands from her waist down to her thighs.
As she began thoughtfully rubbing her pelvis against his in a back-and-forth motion, he gripped her hips encouragingly before reaching for the breasts bobbing so enticingly in front of his face. Marie sighed happily, beginning to move a bit more quickly, as he put a hand on each breast. Kneading gently, he briefly allowed himself to be lost in adolescent delight at finally getting to lay hands on the woman who had taken up such a starring role in his fantasy life in the years since his meeting her.
As he circled and teased her nipples with his thumbs, she murmured in the back of her throat, throwing her head back and pressing herself more firmly forward into his hands. Logan slid his right hand from her breast, tracing his fingers lightly down her rib cage and belly until he reached the triangular patch of hair currently being rocked so delightfully against him. Slipping a pair of fingers between the two of them, he found her clitoris again and began massaging it.
She yipped in surprise and delight when he first touched it, then increased her pace. Logan managed to keep time with her thrusts. Sliding his left hand from her other breast up to the back of her neck, he murmured, "That's it, baby, just a little more. Just a little more...," until she arched and shuddered convulsively.
The sight (of Marie, delightfully gloriously unbelievably naked and transported by ecstasy) -- the scent (of passion and the release thereof) -- the sound (of her mindless gasps and cries, with the breathless murmur of his name mingled in at the end) -- were almost enough to send him over the edge by themselves. When added to the feel of her internal muscles quivering around him, release was inevitable. He bucked his hips upwards against hers, once, twice, before collapsing back against the mattress with a hoarsely murmured, "Oh, *Marie*..."
Opening his eyes, he found her regarding him with a tender sleepy-eyed smile. Returning the smile without consciously deciding to do so, he reached up to her and pulled her down to the bed at his side, leaving her limbs loosely draped over his. She nestled comfortably against him, settling her head on his shoulder.
Logan let out a sound midway between a snort and a chuckle. "And to think, the most excitement we had planned for tonight was shooting pool..."
* * *
Storm found Jean in the kitchen thoughtfully nursing a late-evening coffee after a long day in the Medlab. Checking the pot, she was pleased to find enough left for a cup for herself.
After dumping an unhealthful amount of sugar into her coffee (but no cream), Ororo settled herself next to her friend at the table with a nod of greeting.
"Quiet night," Jean noted absently, mind still on the experiment she had just set up to run overnight.
"Depends on what part of the building you're in," Storm noted.
"Hmm?"
"A few hours ago I heard Rogue shouting at someone. From three floors above. I suspect the people on that floor heard a great deal more." Ro serenely drank her coffee.
"Oh dear. Any idea who it was?"
"I am not sure, but whoever it was is apparently having an affair with Remy." Ororo managed to keep her expression completely deadpan.
Jean's spit-take was everything she could have hoped for in a reaction. "Damn. Oh, damn."
Storm handed her some paper towels to clean up the coffee sprayed across the table. "I take it this doesn't come as a complete surprise to you?"
"I knew what was going on -- we were just hoping things would work themselves out *before* Rogue learned about it."
"Things?" Ro raised a delicately arched eyebrow, silently inviting confession.
Jean considered for a moment. Ah, hell, the cat was well and truly out of the bag. Time for a good gossip session...
An hour or so later, Ororo was leaning her chin on one hand, so fascinated by Jean's story that her coffee had cooled to a forgotten sugary sludge in the bottom of her mug. "And this has been going on for *how* long?"
"A few months, I don't know exactly."
"Forgive me, but I'm still having a hard time believing all of this."
"So did I, and Remy and Logan were the ones telling me."
"I just can't picture Logan...," Ro let the sentence trail off.
"I know, I couldn't at first either. It took me a few weeks of watching the three of them together after he told me before I could really credit it. Explains a lot, though."
"Does it?"
"Well, it explains why he hasn't assaulted Remy yet, at least."
"True." Storm thoughtfully replayed the last few mission briefings and team meetings in her head, absently sipping the toxic waste lurking in the bottom of her mug. "I still have a hard time thinking of Logan as being anything but completely straight, though."
"Especially with him and Rogue shagging like rabbits upstairs right now." The two at the table spun to face the door in perfectly synchronized surprise as Betsy entered the room and the conversation simultaneously.
Jean's jaw dropped in disbelief. "You're kidding!"
"Am not. They've been at it for the past three hours."
Jean and Ro exchanged glances. "Interesting response on her part," Storm commented neutrally, not wanting to complete the sentence in case Betsy didn't know about Logan and Remy.
"What, you mean to learning he was doing her boyfriend on the side? Oh, he did some bloody fast talking after she quit screaming at him. Didn't quite catch what he said to convince her, but it must have been good."
"And now they're...," Jean raised an eyebrow.
"For the past three hours. You don't believe me, head upstairs and you'll hear them. Me, I'm staying down here. I've heard *more* than enough. For three *solid* HOURS."
Another exchange of glances. "You're quite sure that's what the two of them are doing? Not -- fighting, or anything like that?" Jean asked cautiously.
"Well, aside from the creaking bed and the growling, there's the way she keeps screaming, 'Oh, God, LOGAN!!' at periodic intervals. It certainly doesn't sound like they're playing Monopoly in there..."
Storm thoughtfully laced her fingers together, resting her hands on the table in front of her. "The situation seems to be getting interesting."
"'Getting'?" Betsy suspiciously inspected the teabags in the cupboard. "Hmmph. What I wouldn't give for a good packet of PG Tips... As if it hadn't been interesting enough with Wolverine and Gambit sneaking around behind Rogue's back."
"You knew?" Jean raised an eyebrow at Psylocke.
"Don't go giving me that Look, Jean. I live next door to Logan, remember? I don't *have* to eavesdrop psychically when his bed's just a wall away from mine. A very *thin* wall. Which is why I'm down here now."
"Oh?" Ro gave her Enigmatic Gaze #3, as carefully practiced in the mirror -- nothing so vulgar as "curious," but nevertheless subtly encouraging the sharing of confidences.
"It's half-twelve and they're still at it. When I tried pounding on the wall and asking them to keep it down, Wolverine actually told me to," little cough, "'Get some fucking earplugs!'"
Jean looked thoughtful. "Have you tried putting some music on to drown them out?"
"I thought of that, but then I was afraid that I might wind up hearing Logan's bed creaking in time with the rhythm, or worse yet one of them might start singing along. And I didn't fancy trying to sleep in headphones."
"There *is* music that it's almost inherently possible to -- ah, maintain a romantic mood while listening to. Try borrowing a few of Bobby's Weird Al Yankovic CDs...," Jean recommended.
Betsy and Ororo both winced. "A cure almost worse than the problem," Storm noted dryly.
"No thanks," Psylocke agreed. "Which is why I'm coming down here to sleep on the couch in the rec room or some such. Unless, that is, they've shut down for the night after I've done with my tea."
"If this turns out to be a continuing problem, we can see about soundproofing your bedroom wall," Jean suggested sympathetically.
While Betsy nodded philosophically, Ro was struck by a new issue. "So who gives the bad news to Remy?"
The three women exchanged glances.
"I think he'd better hear it from Rogue," Jean said reluctantly.
"Maybe, but I can't say I want him to come home and walk in on the two of them without the slightest forewarning." Betsy frowned. She wasn't a particular fan of Gambit and thought that under the circumstances he pretty much deserved to find out that his girlfriend and boyfriend had decided to cut out the middleman -- but all three parties involved in the matter were noted for quick tempers and occasional rash behavior. "Given a choice, I would rather be forced to listen to overenthusiastic lovemaking next door than a full-fledged mutant battle..."
"Hmm...," Ororo conceded the wisdom of the statement.
"Mmm...," was Jean's contribution.
"Well...," Psylocke added.
"I think...," Jean paused, then reluctantly continued, "I think that it's really Rogue's place to talk to Remy about it. We shouldn't go blurting out the news as soon as he gets home, before he has a chance to speak to her."
"Unless they're still at it when he gets back, of course," Betsy noted wryly.
"Mmm..."
"Ahh..."
"Well, then..."
"We'll just have to keep watch, until Remy and Scott return," Ororo decided.
"And if we have to, go pound on the door and tell them to put some bloody clothes on because they're about to get caught," Betsy added.
"Hmm..." Caught up in imagining the possible and probable consequences of Remy catching Rogue and Logan in bed together, Jean was too preoccupied to respond.
"Poor Remy," Storm mused, having long had a soft spot for the not-so-ex-thief.
"Hah! Serves the little tosser right," Betsy replied.
* * *
Unpacking his bag and putting his things away, Remy was waiting for a knock at the door. He had been gone for a few days, and Rogue should be glad to see him -- which should lead to *Wolvie* being glad to see him a few hours afterward...
Gambit smiled to himself. Sometimes, Fate dealt a hand that was too good to be believed. On the one side, he had Rogue. Lovely, tender, passionate, unpredictable -- desirable in and of herself, and doubly so for him because of the challenge she had presented. Temperamental and standoffish, still not trusting her own hard-won control over her power, she had kept those around her at arms-length.
He had pursued her tirelessly for months. It wasn't until she finally removed the dogtag around her neck (only occasionally glimpsed, usually kept hidden beneath her clothing) that Remy had realized that he had been not just fighting her insecurities but competing with the memory of another man as well. Having belatedly recognized her loyalty for what it was, he had mentally congratulated her for having the sense to drop this "Wolverine" character for himself. Even had this joker possessed the sense not to leave Rogue, clearly there was no way he could *possibly* compare to Remy LeBeau.
When he finally met Logan, he thanked every deity he had ever heard of that he had kept his mouth shut on the matter -- and thanked them again when Logan seemed more interested in hitting on Jean Grey-Summers than in Rogue. Having learned the truth, he now gave thanks on a near-daily basis that, for whatever unknowable reason, Wolverine was refraining from actively trying to steal Rogue away from him.
The fact that Logan was dragging him into bed on a semi-regular basis was an added bonus, as far as Remy was concerned. He wasn't immune to raw animal magnetism -- let alone to being licked up one side and down the other...
Yes, life was good.
At the knock at the door, he smiled and called, "Come in."
The smile flickered when he caught Rogue's expression. Not the inviting welcome he had hoped for on his return -- but at least she didn't look angry, either.
The smile died at her words. "Remy, we need to talk." [Nothing good ever follows that sentence...]
"Well, then, talk." He waited for her to give him some clue of what this was about, so he would know which way to jump.
She hesitated for a second, then raised her hand. "These, I believe, are yours," she said, tossing him the item she had been holding wadded up in her hand unnoticed.
Remy paled as he recognized the paisley boxers that Logan had been in such an alarming hurry to remove the week before. "Where -- where did you get these?" he asked, calculating rapidly. All hope might not be lost -- if he could keep his wits about him, maybe he could talk his way out of this...
"In Logan's room, beside his bed."
[Damn. Have I got a chance to claim he stole them, planted them there to frame me somehow?] "Did he say what they were doing there?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?" [God dammit, first that bite mark and now this. Has he been *trying* to get us caught, or does he just have *severe* self-control issues?]
"I can't remember -- not all of it, anyway."
[This is bad, this is very bad. She's too damned calm. Either there's an explosion coming, and it'll be a *big* one...] "You don't *remember*?" [...or she doesn't *care*, and I *know* she's the jealous type. For her not to *care*...]
"I kind of zoned out after he told me he loved me."
Remy's blood turned to ice at that. [Oh, damn. Oh, shit. Oh, *fuck*.] "And you *believed* him?" he asked, desperately. [She still loves him, doesn't she. And he finally got to her, and I wasn't here to do anything about it...]
"Remy, he let me touch him."
It took a minute for him to get that. [She used her powers on him. Oh, great.] "And what did you find out, then?" [How about the way he came back to New York just for *her*, or the way he still has a pair of her gloves that went "missing" hidden under his pillow, or the way her scent acts as a Wolvie-specific aphrodisiac, or the way Mr. Macho Snarling Testosterone God lets her order him around and tease him mercilessly with impunity, or the way...]
"Everything that mattered."
Hope died, twitching and whimpering. "So that's it, then? You're leaving me for him?" Needing to hear it, needing it right out in the open between them. "Two years between us, and you're dropping me like a used kleenex because he finally decides to make a play for you?"
Rogue hesitated, not wanting to confirm the statement when framed in such harsh terms.
Remy pressed on, letting his hurt burn into anger. "Did you ever really love me, or were you just killing time because you weren't with *him*?"
Giving her own temper free reign, Rogue snapped, "Dammit, Remy, you were cheating on me!"
"Yes! With *him*! And you're willing to forgive *him*, but not *me*?!"
Icily calm now, "*He* was never cheating on anyone because he didn't have anyone to cheat *on*, and he never would have even *looked* at you if it hadn't been for me."
*That* hurt, the reminder that he didn't get licked like an ice-cream cone by the lovely snarly muscular beast-man unless he smelled like the woman they both loved. The pain silenced Remy for a moment, unable to respond.
When he could speak again, what came out was more plaintive than he would have liked. "So this is it, then? No more? I just come back from out of town and it's all been settled while I was away?"
Rogue sighed, anger gone. "Remy, I'm sorry..."
"No goodbye?"
"What? Goodbye? Are you leaving?"
"That wasn't what I meant..." Moving towards her, he reached for her, putting his hands gently to her cheeks and leaning down for a kiss.
Realizing what he was asking for, Rogue froze. Logan was the very definition of "homicidally jealous," and now that his claim on her had been established she feared that his tolerance of Remy would have decreased dramatically. On the other hand...
On the other hand, she and Remy *had* shared almost two years with each other. And she *had* loved him, hadn't she? She just couldn't trust him...
Just one time. One last time. She would go to Logan afterwards and explain it to him, make damned sure that he understood that it was just a goodbye and that he didn't do anything violent about it. She would make him promise not to do anything to Remy, and she wouldn't do it again...
Rogue reached for Remy's shirt, allowing him to slip his hands up under her blouse. Removing each other's clothing as they went, they moved towards the bed...
* * *
"Never plan an act of violence, Cindy. Just let it happen natural."
-- Jesse Custer, PREACHER, "Custer's Law," by Garth Ennis
* * *
Logan had been lurking in the rec room with a twelve-pack in front of ESPN, cooling his heels until Marie was done having her little talk with Remy. The Wolverine was rarely if ever a gracious winner, but Logan was a little too conscious of how it felt to see Marie with another man *not* to empathize slightly with the kid and his loss.
Not that Logan would do anything ridiculous like bow out to clear the field for Remy -- but he really felt for the guy. Marie having been *his* for a blissful (and sex-filled) forty hours or so, the unprecedented benevolence to the universe at large he was currently enjoying allowed him to concede that the punk kid presumably had his good points.
For one thing, he had the sense to detect the rare and wondrous qualities that made Marie such a prize. And he had the taste to own a Harley.
Pretty good in bed, too.
Logan coughed a little, nearly choking on his beer. [All right, enough about Gumbo. I'm not writing his eulogy or nominating him for a damned lifetime achievement award -- he's had his fun and now it's time for him to move on. Greener pastures, and all that...] Finishing his last beer, he tossed the empty in the trash and headed upstairs.
He was on the stairs between the second and third floors when he heard a moan that he would have recognized anywhere.
Even had he not been so familiar with Marie's voice, two nights and a day had given him ample material for study of the sounds she tended to make in bed. He didn't really have to listen for the voice of her companion -- there was only one person it could logically be...
[Looks like Remy's gonna need that eulogy after all...,] he thought grimly while continuing up the stairs and out into the hallway toward's Gambit's room. Stalking towards the door, he paused on the verge of flinging the door open and embarking upon a little recreational bloodletting. [Dammit, Marie will *not* like it if you carve up her boyfriend, ex or otherwise!] He stopped, hand on the doorknob, and concentrated on just breathing until he felt marginally calmer.
It didn't happen, of course -- not when he could hear every little moan, sigh and brush of flesh against flesh from the other side of the door. [All right, then. Not calming down and not supposed to assault Gumbo. What else to do...?]
Wolverine briefly flashed his teeth in an expression not even remotely related to a smile, before turning the knob and silently letting himself into the room.
The pair on the bed didn't notice his entrance until they heard the click of him locking the door behind himself. Turning from the door, he met two pairs of wide eyes in the soft light of the bedside lamp.
Putting his hands behind him and leaning back against the door -- the better to keep from popping claws and disemboweling you, my dear -- he refrained from speaking, concentrating on keeping his expression impassive.
Recovering first, Marie half-sat up, nudging Remy aside (no doubt in case she had to get up *fast*). "He wanted a good-bye, and I thought after two years together he deserved one. Don't get upset, sugar..." She watched him nervously, waiting for his response. Remy seemed frozen with indecision, no doubt debating whether his righteous anger at having been so callously tossed aside was worth risking high-speed decapitation.
Logan let the pair of them stew for a minute while he considered this. Then he kicked off his shoes.
Marie looked puzzled, but Remy sighed and rested his head on her shoulder for a moment, boneless with sudden relief. "Here, move over," he said, pulling her towards him to make room on the side of the bed closest to the door.
Startled to the point of forgetting to keep her eyes on the mutant maniac by the door, Marie turned her attention to Remy, who had apparently gone demented with fear. In so doing she missed seeing Logan leaving a trail of clothing from the door to the bed, until she felt him lifting the covers on that side of the bed and sliding in beside her.
Then the penny dropped. Of *course* Remy recognized Logan's reaction instantly -- hadn't he been on the receiving end of it for the past several months?
She relaxed and put her arm around Logan, putting the other around Remy to encourage him closer. Logan lowered his head into a deep kiss with Marie. Easing her control just enough for a trickle of thought, she caught that he was still severely pissed at finding the two of them together this way -- but that he was planning to have fun nonetheless. And that he didn't blame her that much for being a soft touch with her (former) lover. [Who had damned well better *stay* 'former' after this, though...]
Then he lifted his lips from hers, put a hand on the back of Remy's neck, and pulled the younger man into a kiss. Marie watched with some astonishment -- somehow, having Logan's memories of doing this sort of thing was nothing like actually watching him *do* it mere inches from her nose.
It was a rough kiss. Possibly leaving bruises. Her arm still around Logan, Marie caught that he was well beyond angry with Remy at the moment. Ever-mindful of her promise to Remy, Marie wasn't absorbing anything from him -- but she noticed that he had gone very still, doing nothing to resist or otherwise provoke Wolverine.
Rogue ran her hand down Logan's back soothingly. Reminded of her presence, he pulled away from Gambit and kissed her again. Remy sighed deeply, then edged closer and oh-so-cautiously kissed the side of her neck, her jaw, her ear. Logan, starting to put his other arm around her, bumped into the other man instead. He lifted his head, glaring for a moment at the kid on the other side of Marie, before pulling away a bit and setting his hand deliberately on Remy's side.
Rogue realized that Remy -- not having her particular insights into Logan's current train of thought -- would need a bit more guidance. She put her hand on the back of his head and pulled him down into a kiss. He was tense at first, but when Logan responded by ducking back down to nuzzle at Marie's earlobe, he relaxed. At which point Wolverine shifted attention, giving Remy a not-particularly-gentle nip at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Gambit murmured in half-hearted protest, but didn't seem to object that strongly.
Arm still around Logan, Marie caught his next thought, and was ready to slide over when he grabbed Remy abruptly around the waist and pulled him closer, dropping the younger man to the bed between the pair of them. Gambit emitted an undignified squeak of surprise, before Marie pressed herself to him. Grinning impishly, she wrapped a leg around his, reaching down between the pair of them and guiding his penis back into her without further preamble.
Remy was well and truly startled for a moment, then heard the sounds of Logan rummaging through the infamous bedside table behind him and caught on. [Looks like I really *will* be getting fucked backwards and forwards in a minute... Well, hell, this could be *fun*...] Ignoring Wolverine until he should choose to remind them of his presence again, Remy concentrated on moving with Rogue. When he felt hands sliding onto his hips and hot breath against the back of his neck he paused, letting Logan work one knee between his.
Marie opened her eyes when he lost the rhythm, and hooked her ankle behind Logan's legs as well as Remy's. "Easy," she warned Wolverine, who growled in a tone so low it was felt in the chest more than heard in the ears. Gambit closed his eyes and unconsciously tightened his arms around Rogue, silently thanking Logan for at least having found some sort of lube first -- *especially* given that the Wolverine was clearly not in a particularly kind mood at the moment.
"You all right?" Marie asked.
"Mmph," was the best reply Remy could come up with at that point, trying to adjust to sensations never before found in combination.
"O-ka-ay-y-y, um -- how do we do this?" with a nervous giggle from Marie.
Logan was actually the one to respond, wordlessly putting a hand on her hip and pulling her into a slow back-and-forth motion. Once she began following the rhythm on her own, he began to echo it, shifting his hand back to the younger man's hip. Caught in the middle, Remy gasped and moaned helplessly. It wasn't just the pairing of the internal and external friction, or even the thought that he was caught in the middle of a high-class porno scene that was doing it for him, so much as the fact that he was currently sandwiched between what had to be the two most desirable members of either sex under the roof of the X-Mansion.
Unfortunately for his ego, he came before Marie did. She didn't stop moving, though, until Wolverine rumbled low in his throat and thrust hard into him. Marie paused to let Logan disentangle himself, then rolled Remy onto his back.
Logan, it turned out, had just pulled away long enough to divest himself of the used condom. Sliding back over to his lovers, he took Marie around the waist and pulled her down onto the bed beside Remy before ducking between her thighs. Rogue happily plunged her fingers into his hair as he indulged in his fantasy of clearing every bit of *Remy's* scent off of *her* with his tongue.
By the time she reached her climax, Logan was ready for another round, crawling up her body and pressing her firmly to the mattress with his own weight. She wrapped her arms and thighs around him, bucking upward eagerly when he penetrated her. Things were progressing well when he suddenly froze, lifted his head and snarled warningly. Remy jumped back, alarmed, and Marie got the picture. Having recovered sufficiently from having been made into a Gambit Sandwich, Remy had decided to see if Logan was interested in getting the same treatment. The answer was a decided, "No Way In Hell."
She bumped her pelvis upward insistently against Logan as a reminder. He began moving his hips again, still keeping a wary eye on Remy for a minute or so before returning his full attention to Marie. When he looked away from the younger man, she slid her nearer hand to Remy's belly, then downward, rubbing firmly over his erection while continuing to occupy Wolverine's full attention.
She kept just enough sense to let go of his penis when she came, not wanting to hurt him when every muscle in her body tensed. Logan followed her into orgasm almost immediately, and she stroked her hands down his back happily as he panted for breath, expecting him to move aside in a moment and make room for Remy.
He moved, all right -- but surprised her by slipping down besides Remy and nuzzling along down the younger man's belly. As Marie watched with astonishment -- and, it must be admitted, a certain degree of interest -- Logan pressed Remy down on the mattress and started going over his more intimate regions with his tongue, completely unabashed at having an audience. She wasn't especially sure how to react -- what *was* the correct etiquette when watching one of your lovers performing oral sex upon the other? -- but then Remy remembered her presence and opened his eyes. He looked about as unsure at the situation as she felt, which made her feel better. [Embarrassment shared is embarrassment halved?]
Deciding to trust her impulses for the moment, she leaned over and kissed Remy. He took one of his hands out of Logan's hair and reached for her own. Squeezing his hand gently, she happily alternated between watching Logan, kissing Remy, and watching Remy's face -- unsurprisingly, she hadn't been able to really watch his face at close range during a blow job before, being otherwise occupied, at the wrong angle, and usually hidden behind a curtain of hair besides.
By the time Remy gasped, arched and tightened his grip on hers almost painfully, Marie was quite frankly turned on again. Logan did not miss this, shifting position from draped across Remy's legs to curled between Marie's thighs almost without missing a beat. Coming back to himself, Gambit opened his eyes, chuckled softly, and kissed the back of Marie's hand, settling down to watch -- and wondering to himself if Logan's tongue was tired yet.
Other parts of Logan certainly weren't, as became obvious once Rogue cried his name and dug her nails into the back of Remy's hand. When Logan started to position himself atop her again, Remy caught him and rolled him over onto the bed between Marie and himself. Wolverine growled in protest -- a sound that turned into something completely different when Gambit started to return the favor with his own tongue. Logan cupped a hand around the back of Remy's head, and when Marie kissed him he returned it enthusiastically before wrapping a solid arm around her and holding her close. She rested her head on his shoulder and listened to the running stream of moans and growls, until he whimpered on a rising note and fell abruptly silent.
A moment later Remy crawled over her legs and up towards the head of the bed, plopping himself next to her with a smug look on his face. Marie shifted a little as Remy pressed close to her, leaving her nestled comfortably between her two men. [Mmm, this is something I could definitely get used to.]
Then Logan and Remy simultaneously tried to put an arm around her waist, ran into each other's hands, and halted. Although she couldn't see either of their faces, she *knew* Logan had to be glaring at the other man, and suspected Remy of being mildly irked as well. "Mmm, we're so *comfortable* right now -- let's not fight..." She heard Remy chuckle, and felt Logan's barely-audible sigh. Remy's arm went around her, high under her breasts, while Logan rested his hand lower, on her rear, giving her a little squeeze.
Remy yawned. "Can we shut off the light now, or are you both going to abandon me again?"
Surprisingly, it was Logan who said, "Turn it off." After Remy had done so and resumed his position spooned behind Marie, Logan remarked in a calm and measured voice, "I don't mind this happening *once* -- but not again."
"Of course not," Gambit agreed in the tone that Rogue had learned from long experience meant, "I'm agreeing with you just to get you off your guard, but I'm damned sure going to try to get around you the first chance I get..." Marie giggled silently in the dark.
Logan, feeling her little quivers of amusement, frowned at her -- which she sensed, without actually seeing. "Right, Marie?"
"Of course," she agreed, in the tone that Logan had not yet realized meant, "No Way In Hell, but we won't argue that point till we actually come to it." She felt Remy suppressing merriment behind her. Logan grumbled a little, suspiciously, but in the face of their supposed agreement he had little to complain of. "Go to sleep, sugar," she murmured sweetly.
He'd learn soon enough.
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