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"Logan..."
Hands slid to his chest, across his abdomen and then to his right hip, the part of his anatomy which seem to fascinate Remy to no end. He never knew when finger tips would flutter across the bone, to the hollow, and then trail to his thigh. The others he had fucked always focused on his knuckles, licking the flesh where his claws would come out. Logan supposed it had to do with control, that his bed partners could lick the flesh for the thrill of being so close to something that could skewer them dead. Simple as that.
But with Remy... sure he would place an occasional nibble there but the thief always seemed more intent on his hip bones.
He glanced down to find Remy's eyes sparkling with lust and mischief. "Yes?"
Lips lifted into a devilish grin. "Join me in the shower?"
Was it to be like this for the rest of their lives or at least for however long he and this Cajun thief were together? That didn't matter right now. What mattered was that Remy wanted him, all of him, all at once.
Scooter hadn’t been too happy about granting them this extra time off. As far as their Fearless Leader was concerned, Gambit and Wolverine were probably off for a few days of drinking, smoking, and poker playing, and Gambit would be carousing wildly with anything that moved.
Gambit and Wolverine keeping each others’ company hadn’t surprised the other X-Men. Most still were very unsure around Gambit, but Gambit was the only one who a) rode a bike as fast or faster than Wolverine’s, b) smoked besides Logan, and c) who could drink obnoxious quantities and not get stupid-drunk. Gambit and Wolverine would go to Harry’s for drinks and smokes after dinner, Gambit and Wolverine would play endless rounds of pool at Harry’s, and Gambit and Wolverine would retreat to the boathouse were Gambit had taken up residency and played endless rounds of poker. Well, the latter part was the convenient and believable lie that those at the Xavier Institute believed.
No, those nights when Remy and Logan had returned to the boathouse, it had been a different kind of poking indeed.
They’d been together less than three weeks when this mission to Detroit had come up. After completing it in record time – “Mon chere, dis is no job for a Master Thief! Icy could pull dis off and y’know how clumsy he is!” – and dutifully sending the information back, Logan had simply called Scooter and said, “Me and Gumbo gonna hang out in Chicago for a few days.”
Okay, so it wasn’t a formal request. Still, Scooter had let out a long sigh before saying, “Just be careful.”
So there they were on their second day in Chicago, in some disgustingly fancy hotel that Remy had insisted on. It had rained the entire time they were there, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like they were venturing out or anything. And perhaps one of the benefits of such an expensive hotel was that no one batted an eyelash when two grown men sharing one room ordered monstrous amounts of food via room service but hadn’t left since checking in.
The fingers glided along his hip again.
There was no shame in enjoying the spoils of victory, was there? And Remy was most definitely a prize Logan felt he had won. Since their first night in the boathouse, Remy hadn’t strayed once from Logan’s bed. Their romps before had not be at this leisurely place, allowing for the casual exploration of each other. Now, well, Logan knew of a point just below Remy’s left shoulder blade that when rubbed, caused the thief to almost purr. There were scars here and there, ones which Remy never explained and Logan didn’t demand about. There were still secrets; those things Logan understood. Remy was definitely more open around him, but guarded all the same.
If he hadn’t been, Logan wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable.
"The water can be as cool as you like," Remy added as his fingers slid down. The thief’s idea of a good shower was near-blistering water, something that Logan hadn’t quite adjusted to yet. "Oui?"
Logan rolled, pinning him to the bed. "Why not just stay here?"
"Because I live for adventure," Remy grinned impishly. With that, he slithered from underneath Logan's body, a sensation that startled the Canadian so much that he'd been unable to react quickly enough, and the thief trotted into bathroom.
Then Logan heard the water running. Slowly, he pried himself out of bed, kicked the pillow out of the way so they would have a clear path back to the bed, and wandered into the bathroom. Remy was already in the shower, turning beneath the cascade of water and causing it to splash against the transparent shower door. Logan leaned against the wash basin, taking in the sight.
"Not going to join me?" Remy teased when he realized the Canadian was in the bathroom but only staring at him.
"In a moment," he replied.
"Oh." The thief abruptly turned around, presenting his tempting backside. It confused Logan for a moment before he understood Remy had interpreted his momentary pause for a request for privacy.
Logan, however, was content to watch.
"De water isn’t too hot," Remy called out as lather foamed down his back. "Just like you liked it last night."
"Uh-hmmmm" he replied, entranced by the suds as they formed wide patterns across Remy's skin. He had missed this the last time; the thief had literally dragged him in the shower last night, refusing to let go of him for even a short while. Logan hadn't been able to enjoy such a delicious sight. Now....
"D’bedsheets," Remy continued, "do you like dem?"
Bedsheets?
Where in the hell had that comment come from?
Bedsheets were fucking bedsheets.
When he didn’t answer, the thief continued, "Dey're quite nice. Better dan satin sheets ‘cos you slide all over de bed wit satin.” He began scrubbing his hair, more white foam frothing down his fingers and skin; he still hadn't turned around. “No leverage."
"Never thought of it like that," Logan answered succinctly.
"Oh," Remy said as soap suds splattered against the door. "Sorry. Gambit shut up now."
Logan picked up on the affront in the thief's voice; it was a tone he often used when Logan refused to give elaborate answers or join in the conversation. Also, the thief rarely used the third person anymore when they were alone together. For him to use it now simply meant that Remy didn’t expect this to last.
Would it?
Dropping the third person... was it a subtle hint that Remy wanted more than a casual affair? After all, why else would he have stopped with the one-night stands? He hadn’t done that while he was seeing Rogue no matter what anyone else thought. Was Remy fearful that he would slice and dice his other bed partners?
No. It was the sincerity of Remy that had caught Logan completely off-guard at first. That the Cajun didn’t want to just have a “suck and fuck” session with him. He wouldn’t have let his guard down unless he was serious. All these revelations and conclusions remained unspoken, as if the other didn’t want to break the spell.
Eventually, it would be something to talk about.
Now... now just wasn’t the time.
"Never thought I’d be talkin’ thread counts with ya," he explained. The sight of his wet, sudsy lover was definitely arousing.
"Hmpf." Remy doused himself underneath the water again, rinsing off. When he spoke again, his tone was neutral, wonderfully neutral, as if all were forgiven. "Well... I like dem. Very much." Then his voice dropped to that seductive tone which made Logan's toes curl. "I’ll make sure I have a set next time, oui? We enjoy dem at home."
Logan didn't answer; instead, he slid open the transparent door and stepped in behind the thief. Before the Cajun could turn, he leaned forward, his hard sex nestling in the crevice of that tempting ass as he pressed rest of his body flush with the Remy's.
"Oh, Logan," Remy cooed, as if he possessed all the confidence in the universe, and then shifted his hips, "a little feisty today, non?"
By God, what this thief did to him....
"You've been tempting me for far too long," Logan growled softly, lips against the thief's ear. "Far longer than any sane being should have to endure."
Remy's only response was to push back against him and brace himself against the shower wall, forearms flat against it.
Logan's thumb traveled down the thief’s spine, past the scars that could have only come from methodical abuse, and stopped just where the crease of Remy's ass began. He turned his hand so that his forefinger could touch the opening while his thumb remained at the base of Remy's spine. That was when he began to move his forefinger in slow, circular patterns as he undulated his hips so that the tip of his sex would bump against the opening.
That last time had been frantic.
This time it would be proper. Or as proper as one could get in the shower stall of an expensive hotel.
The water continued to beat down upon them.
With his other hand, Logan drew odd patterns across Remy's chest, listening to the breathless sounds being made. He watched as the thief closed his eyes and bent his head forward, biting his lip continually as he continued his assault.
Gently, he slipped in one finger. Remy gasped, his muscles tightening. He pushed into Logan's hand, hips swaying slightly to encourage more contact.
Oh, the thief was wanton as one could be pressed up against marble tile. Logan smiled and nibbled the thief's shoulder. He continued for a few more moments before sliding until only the tip of his finger remained, enough so he could guide his sex.
It took a bit of maneuvering, but not as much as Logan had expected. Remy groaned, sliding his feet apart slightly to allow for more movement, and then Logan began an agonizing slow pace, holding Remy's hips still as he rocked.
The thief's back was arched in a way that prevented him from slamming into the wall. Logan wound his arms around Remy's, palms against the backs of hands, as he pressed his head into Remy's shoulder.
A steam-filled room. Water pounding over them. The odd fragrance of whatever soap Remy had bathed with mixed with Remy's own scent. Sensuous. Primal. Tapping in to those instincts that made Logan want to possess with all his being this prize he had won.
He snaked one hand down, grasping Remy firmly, and matched the strokes as best as he could. Remy began thrusting into his hand, so forcefully the Canadian almost lost his footing a slipped. Logan brought his other hand down so that one would be wrapped around the base of Remy's cock and the other to thumb the tip. Remy's reaction was instantaneous: his muscles tightened followed by a breathy, "Mon dieu! Oui!"
Logan pounded into that hard, lean body with every bit of himself. His lover continued with the barely audible declarations of "Oui!" and "Dieu!" until he arched upward, a seemingly impossible maneuver, and spasms racked his frame. It was one of the most unusual sensations Logan had ever felt, causing him to increase his own speed to ride that wild crest of reaction, and finally he finally erupted with a howl that echoed in the small area.
They slumped against the wall.
The water continued poured over them.
“Mon coeur, mon Logan... mon chere.”
That answered one question.
Mon coeur indeed.
**** Finis ****