Title: Wounds and Kisses
Author: Ushbeti (ushbeti@aol.com)
Website: no site
Rating: NC-17 Violence, language, sex, themes
Pairing/main characters: Gambit/Iceman, X-Men, FF, Sub-Mariner, old X-Force
Series/Sequel: unfinished, parts 1-25
Summary: Started as a short story to get someone to defend Remy's character and to have lots of mm sex. Grew into a battle story with lots of sex, mm, ff, and mmf, and will someday be finished.
Disclaimer: Standard. Marvel characters used without permission. No moneys are made from these characters by the author.
Date: Dec 1999
Archive/distribution: With notice to the author.
Warning: Character deaths. Recalled childhood sexual abuse.
Notes: If anyone can get me out of this writer's block, I'd appreciate it.
_________________________________________________________
Wounds and Kisses
By Ushbeti
Chapter One
Johnny Storm sang loudly, if off-key, along to the radio, "I used to love her, but I had to kill her..." as he drove his powerful rebuilt Chrysler Atlantic towards Westchester County and the home of his old pals, the X-Men. *Gotta ask why they don't call themselves the X-People.* He could hardly wait to see Bobby and Remy again. That accidental meeting at Borders was a revelation--Johnny'd had a crush on Bobby ever since he'd met him, but Bobby had never responded, so Johnny had contented himself with their friendship. But Bobby had been so _different_ that day at Borders, and all Johnny'd had to do was look at the rangy sexy guy with him to know why. Johnny and Bobby'd always hugged "hello" but this time the hug was different, too. The three men had realized at once there was something electric between them, but had sat for lattes anyway.
Two hasty phone calls, one to Sue begging her to let her baby brother bring home a couple of friends for dinner, and another to the Mansion informing the machine Bobby and Remy were having dinner in the city, had acknowledged the possibilities. As always, Sue had come through and had managed a tasty jambalaya (although she'd never cooked one before in her life--sometimes Johnny thought his sister's real mission was to let no man go hungry) and then the three men had excused themselves and "wandered off" to Johnny's room. Thank God Reed had installed soundproofing options in the bedrooms! The sex had been brilliant--neither Johnny nor Remy proved unfamiliar with threesomes (gee, Wyatt and Jenny had been fun!) and they'd treated Bobby to a helluva time. Johnny grinned. It had been great--although he'd have to remember to ask Bobby what he'd meant by screaming "feast or famine!" at one point. Now Johnny was driving to see his two lovers and hang with some old buds. Also, Bobby had mentioned some of the X-Force kids were around, so maybe they could all run around and get silly. Johnny anticipated the weekend with glee.
--------------------------------------
Rogue regarded herself in the mirror with smug approval. Those enormous breasts, that impossibly thin waist, those Barbie-doll legs. The moment she'd heard Johnny Storm was coming down to see that swamp rat and the wimp, Rogue had started thinking about what to wear to look fabulous--since Johnny's sexual reputation was legendary--and distract his attention. It had annoyed her immensely when Bobby hadn't risen to her bait on their long road-trip, and her pride was only assuaged when she learned he was just a fag, and not a gentleman. Remy infuriated her. His mere presence showed that she was not the untouchable and therefore sympathetic virgin before their tryst in that damn cave, and she'd been glad to leave him, and the proof that she was like any other woman, to die in Antarctica. Somehow the rat had lived, though, so then she'd had to play on everybody's feelings with how betrayed she'd felt by his lies and secrets. Fortunately, her manipulations worked. Rogue knew how to twist and turn emotions in her favor--she wasn't Mystique's adopted child for nothing. Almost everybody thought Rogue was a poor fragile flower, and Remy a cad, a thief, a murderer.
The sound of laughter and yelling pulled Rogue's attention from her image in the mirror, and her full lips twisted in a grimace she never allowed the other X-Men to see. Damn it! There was that sewer rat Maggot and Kitty and the boys Kitty had nicknamed the Trips: Rictor, Shatterstar, and Adam something or other. All three boys were immune to Rogue's considerable charms: another batch of fags. And Marrow! That little bitch. Practically worshipping Remy just because he'd saved her life and transformed her looks! And everybody playing it careful with Marrow--even Angel, who had good reason to hate Remy, was polite to the swamp rat when Marrow was around--so she wouldn't find out too harshly that Remy'd caused her people to be killed.
*Well,* thought Rogue as she pushed her breasts up a little bit farther, * I've just about had it with _that_, too* It still galled her that when Bobby and Remy had come home and Bobby had grinned and told the others that he and Remy had a new partner, that _no one_, not a single other X-Man, had been mad after they'd found out who it was. Before Bobby had said the additional guy was the Human Torch, Angel had narrowed his eyes and Scott and Jean had prepared frowns. After, they'd smiled--even Warren! Jean, that idiot, had laughed about them all knowing Johnny since forever, and that seemed to give the whole thing some kind of seal of approval! Hank had asked if they'd dined with "the lovely Susan" as if Johnny's sister's approval meant something important in his estimation of Remy, and had murmured rapturously about Susan being the perfect "crush"--kind, beautiful, and forever unavailable! Now Rogue, because of that bastard thief, was _known_ to be available! "Bastard!" she spat.
Chapter Two
Bobby sprawled across the bed to watch Remy get his hair just right in the bathroom. *For a guy whose hair's always in his face, Rem sure fiddles with it a lot.* Bobby lay back and put his arms under his head. He thought about meeting Johnny at Borders. Before he'd seen Johnny that day, he'd never noticed how brilliantly blue his old friend's eyes were; how full his lips were (he'd commented about Johnny's lips to Rem on the way back to Westchester the next day--Rem had given him that quirked smile and said, "Oui, cher, he got them blow job lips. So d'I, if y' haven't noticed" Bobby'd blushed but yeah, he really noticed...); how dimples played in Johnny's cheeks when he smiled at the two of them. When he and Johnny had put their arms around one another to say hello, Bobby's heart was already beating too fast. Johnny was so warm! Sure, Bobby'd always known Johnny ran hot, but he was _so warm_ and he smelled so good, like sunshine and fresh-cut grass. Flustered (he's my old bud, Jon, for crying out loud!) Bobby'd held him a moment longer, felt Johnny start to respond (!) and then stepped out of the embrace, still holding Johnny's left arm, and (re)introduced him to Remy. Remy and Johnny had looked at one another and smiled slowly, and had grasped, rather than shaken, hands. Bobby had felt kinda woozy or starry-eyed or something, but Remy had suggested lattes all round.
Once seated, Bobby had begun to feel a little less baffled, a little calmer (I _have_ a boyfriend! A really great boyfriend! And...hey, are they _both_ flirting with _me_?) and then Johnny had licked a little froth from the corner of his mouth (tongue...lips!) and Remy had grinned and licked his spoon (Hey!) and Bobby suddenly felt like he shouldn't stand up any time soon. Tables concealed so much (And they _are_ flirting with me! Both! And with each other! Jeez!) and he hadn't hardly (yipes!) touched his latte...Johnny had grinned at Remy and said to Bobby, "Hey bud, you always loved my sister's cooking, so why don't you and Remy come over for dinner?" as he'd pulled his comm out of his pocket. Bobby remembered he _did_ like Sue's cooking (Sue. Sue is his sister. I'm on familiar ground with Sue) and looked at Remy for acquiescence. Remy had lowered those long lashes and then looked up at him in _that_ way and said, "'S'long s'we get to choose dessert..." Right there in the middle of Borders!
Sue had apparently suggested they finish shopping for cds ("No doubt she's running around trying to find prawns and stuff--I reminded her Remy's from New Orleans") and Bobby'd concentrated on finding Hugh Boynton ("Why do you _like_ this stuff, anyways?"). He tried not to notice, too much, that Johnny's or Remy's hands were touching him on his shoulder, his waist, his arm...Johnny had smiled one of those glorious Torch smiles and had slid his hand down Remy's left butt cheek. Ohmigod...
_________________________
Johnny let Remy and Bobby into the FF's home at Pier 4. The only weapons the two had on them were Remy's cards, and they weren't charged, of course, so that went smoothly. Remy felt shy suddenly: he was here because he was going to have sex with Johnny later--every damn' time he'd had sex with anybody recently, he'd felt as though people were regarding him as espece de depuceleur de vierges--a defiler of virgins. So on went the mask, so quickly that he felt even Bobby didn't notice.But Johnny and Bobby bubbled on, Johnny hollering "Hello, you big oaf!" to Ben Grimm, who bellowed something about juvenile delinquents back ("He's always watching some stupid ball game on tv--even if he hates the teams playing--and he hates all teams that ain't from New York, and he hates the Mets on general principle, anyway," explained Johnny), and Franklin ran up demanding that "Unca Johnny" pick him up immediately and that Bobby and Remy admire his puppy ("Nice puppy, what's his name?" "He hasn't told me yet so I call him Puppy!" and Bobby laughing), and Sue seemingly floated up, scolding Johnny lovingly for tossing his bag on the floor, and embraced and kissed Bobby (who kissed back? Shy Bobby?) and then held her hand out to Remy. Remy shook her hand and said, "Oh, I am fine, and you?" to her and she smiled (she smells so good--what _is_ that?) and then realized that he hadn't kissed her hand slyly--what was going on in his head? And then Reed came up and shook hands all round and finally Ben emerged from his tv-induced trance and growled "Hey, Gumbo," and "You nutty Icecube," to which Bobby replied, "Did ya hear the one about the three-legged cat that went into a bar? It walked up to the bartender and said, 'I'm looking for the guy who shot my paw," and Ben roared with laughter. And that was some roar.
And somehow they were all seated at dinner and Remy was eating a delicious jambalya (So Sue c'n cook real food? Nice) and drinking a cold Anchor Steam and talking with Reed about...about the Thieves' Guild...Reed proved surprisingly knowledgeable about the Guild's workings and Remy was discussing some of the finer points comfortably, half-listening to Bobby's jokes and Ben's ripostes...("Dieu! I am talkin' 'bout de Guild wit' an outsider! What de hell is wrong wit' me here?").
And Remy stopped talking, letting Reed carry the conversation for a few moments, as he looked around the table and saw smiling, laughing faces, heard jokes and good-natured teasing, and realized...here, in a home not his own, he didn't feel like an outsider, an outcast. No one here was regarding him with the narrowed eyes of suspicion and cold dislike. The only times he'd felt like this--comfortable, safe--was when he was alone with Bobby. Remy looked at Reed directly. Reed was smiling and saying, "And I believe that there was a disputatious interlude with the Assassin's Guild that was instigated in the previous century--approximately during that time known as the Gilded Age ("Reed, don't make puns!" interrupted Johnny) possibly by an Eternal, as they are termed, although a more accurate appellation..." and Remy understood what Reed--what all of them, in some ways--were saying: They knew what he was--a thief. They knew about the massacre. Of course they did--Reed was a collector of knowledge. And it didn't matter to them. He'd been accepted by Bobby, a special pet of Ben's ("Ben's always liked Bobby," explained Sue, "Ever since Ben was watching and complaining about the Harvard-Yale game and Bobby suggested that it would be more exciting to make the faculties play." "Haw! I'd love ta see them eggheads breakin' their brittle bones on the field," Ben guffawed). He was a guest, a friend, and soon to be one of their cherished, babied youngest member's lovers.
Remy hadn't felt like this in a long time. The cold seemingly slipped from his bones like the mask had, unknowingly, from his face. When dinner was over, he stood and took his plate into the kitchen over Sue's protests just as Bobby and Johnny did, and took the opportunity to slide his arms around each of their waists. And just rested between them a moment. Then he returned to the dining room and thanked Sue, "Votre cuisine etait superbe, and I have not enjoyed a dinner like this in years, beautiful lady," and Reed and Ben had beamed--how the hell Remy had known Ben was beaming, too, was unverifiable-- and then he'd sauntered back to the two men who awaited him and they'd strutted back to Johnny's room.
Chapter Three
As soon as the door closed, Johnny gathered Bobby into a tight hug and pressed his mouth against Bobby's lips. They kissed, close-mouthed, for a few moments, then their lips parted and they kissed deeply. Remy stood, entranced by the excitement of watching nearly-innocent Bobby, his cher, being kissed passionately by another man. Johnny broke the kiss, finally, took a breath, and smiled. "I've been wanting to do that for--how many years have we known each other, Bob?"
Bobby exhaled shakily and looked at Remy. Remy smiled and moved behind him. "How 'bout you take de front an' I handle de back?" Remy suggested. Johnny grinned and said, "Sounds like a plan." Bobby said, "Hey wait don''t I get a s--" and his mouth was silenced while open with another kiss. Johnny kissed him thoroughly, deeply, while Remy nibbled and licked the back of Bobby's neck, his nape, the rims of his ears. Bobby's legs began to tremble, just a little. Johnny moved his mouth to Bobby's throat while Remy kissed the curves where Bobby's neck met his shoulders. "Gotta get dis shirt off him," Remy mumbled against Bobby's nape. Johnny pulled his body slightly away from Bobby, still kissing his face and throat, and began unbuttoning Bobby's shirt, fingers fumbling yet opening Bobby's shirt. Remy licked Bobby's ears and nibbled his earlobes as he pulled Bobby's shirttail out of his jeans. Bobby shivered a little. Johnny tugged the rest of his shirt out of Bobby's _very tight now_ jeans and finished unbuttoning. Remy pulled Bobby's shirt down his arms and off.
Both Johnny and Remy stretched their legs open to kiss and tease Bobby's chest, arms, and back. Johnny licked Bobby's right nipple until the tender nub was tingling, almost aching, then traced his way across to the left nipple. Remy's tongue traced the muscled planes of Bobby's shoulders and back; his teeth nipping at Bobby's flesh. Bobby moaned softly. His eyes kept closing, even though he so wanted to watch Johnny, kneeling now, kiss and tease him.
Johnny interrupted his kisses to murmur against Bobby's belly, "Bobby, lift your right foot." The request made its way into Bobby's brain somehow, and he did. Johnny untied his sneaker while kissing his stomach and Remy tugged the sneaker off and then the sock while licking Bobby's lower back. Johnny tapped Bobby's left foot; he was lapping at Bobby's navel, sucking and tonguing it until Bobby thought it would turn inside out. Bobby lifted his foot and his sneaker and sock were pulled off. Remy tugged the back of Bobby's jeans down a bit and began licking his dimples. Bobby shivered and moaned again. Then Johnny's fingers unbuttoned Bobby's jeans. He and Remy slowly, so slowly, pulled Bobby's jeans down, tugging them a bit over his erection, and down, down to his ankles and somehow they were licking and kissing his legs as they did, Remy circling his tongue on the backs of Bobby's knees, and Johnny kissing Bobby's thighs, and somehow he managed to step out of his jeans without falling or fainting.
Johnny moved his head up a little and began kissing and licking Bobby's erection through his jockeys. Remy began biting Bobby's buttocks gently. ("Oh, Christ, get these underpants off me!" thought Bobby, trying not to clutch at Johnny's hair.) Finally, Johnny and Remy started to tug Bobby's jockeys down, torturously slowly, licking his thighs and legs as the shorts went down his legs.
Then somehow they were off, and Johnny kissed Bobby's cock and began stroking and rubbing his shaft and balls. Remy began kissing and licking and nibbling Bobby's ass--the sensitive undercheeks, his dimples, the rounded fullness of each cheek. Then Johnny began sucking Bobby's cock in earnest. Bobby moaned and sighed as his cock was engulfed in Johnny's hot mouth. Johnny was rubbing and gently squeezing his balls. Remy's tongue slid up and down Bobby's crack and then--in. "Oh, God," Bobby moaned, as Remy's hands squeezed his parted cheeks. Johnny and Remy intensified their sucking and tonguing, Bobby's cock sliding deeply into Johnny's mouth and throat, Remy's tongue darting deeply and probing inside Bobby's ass. Remy stroked Bobby's perineum as Johnny cupped and squeezed Bobby's balls. Bobby felt his cockhead swell in Johnny's mouth and moaned, "I'm gonna cum..." and Johnny sucked harder, Remy probed faster. Bobby's cum flooded Johnny's mouth as he screamed in ecstasy, hips pumping.
Remy and Johnny held onto him, slowly subsiding their movements, as Bobby came down. His legs were wobbly and they held him up for a few moments as they gentled their kisses on his body. Then he slid down between them and gasped, "So when are you two gonna get _your_ clothes off?"
Chapter Four
Remy and Johnny started tearing off their own clothes as quickly as they could, Bobby helping by grabbing at various buttons and two zippers. "Ya know, we can get on the bed. I do have one," Johnny laughed as Bobby grabbed him into a tight hug. "We make our way dere, frere," smiled Remy, wrapping his arms around Bobby's hips and pulling at him. Bobby tugged Johnny over himself and toward Remy (*So he wants us t' kiss, eh?*). Remy mock-scolded Bobby, "Eb-ep-ep, mon chou, patience is a virtue, hien?" and leaned in and kissed Johnny, tasting Bobby's essence on Johnny's lips. "Mmmm, so tasty," he murmured, and Johnny slid his tongue in and out between Remy's pouty lips.
"Oh, wow," Bobby breathed, as he watched his boyhood pal and his exotic lover kiss (*This is like, so cool! Jon and my darling seem to pretty much know what to do...what the heck's next? Hell, I'll go along with anything after what they just did to me!*) and gently stroked each man's cock as he watched them kiss, amazed as usual about the silkiness of another man's cock, the velvety warmth of another man's balls. He was becoming used to, finally, Remy's body (still thrilled and excited to touch Remy almost as much as he wanted--some day he'd stop being so shy) but Jon's body, familiar in many ways for years, but now naked, provocative, was intoxicating. Watching them kiss, tantalizing themselves as well as himself, was almost agonizingly hot.
Johnny broke the kiss, smiled, and started to press light, gentle kisses on both Remy's and Bobby's faces. Remy teased and pinched, lightly, Johnny's nipples while surrendering his face and throat to the impulsive, almost frivolous kisses, while Bobby let his hands wander over each man's body, fondling and caressing chests, hips, thighs, buttocks...Bobby moaned quietly (*God, this is so amazing. I would'a never thought going to Borders would'a led to this. I can't hardly think*) and Remy turned to him, alien eyes far milder and more loving than most people would ever believe and murmured, "Hush, mon amour, mon bichou, we take dis slow t'make it so good f'you," and Jon smiled at him with that rare sweetness only those Jon favored ever saw. Bobby relaxed a little as Johnny enfolded him in a hug; Remy wrapped his arms about both of them. Bobby luxuriated in the warmth between his lovers, slowing down, savoring.
Chapter Five
Johnny held Bobby gently, mouth buried in Bobby's sandy soft hair (*Mmm, so silky and smells so nice*). He could feel both Bobby's and Remy's pulses; they were so closely entwined. Bobby seemed a bit calmer now; Johnny figured this kind of thing was something Bobby hadn't done before and he wanted to make it special, and he was glad Remy felt the same way. It was pretty easy to see the Cajun really cared about Bobby, and that was cool. Johnny started stroking Bobby's back. He wanted his old bud to be totally relaxed and into this; he already knew Remy was.
He felt Remy's hand caress his side. "Mmmm, guys? Let's get on the bed--it's a California King and I'd hate ta see it go to waste!'" Bobby chuckled; yeah, he was ready. Bobby's ability to laugh was one of Johnny's favorite things--he figured any time Bobby was laughing, he was ok with the world.
The three men stood up gracefully and, arms linked loosely around waists, Bobby in the middle, walked over to Johnny's bed. Johnny flipped back the comforter and top sheet and Bobby bounced onto the middle of the bed; Remy, grinning and shaking his head a little (*Bobby, cher, you crack me up*) coiled his lithesome body next to his lover. Johnny sat on the edge and reached into his nightstand drawer for the tube of Slick he kept there, and placed it on the nightstand--not too blatant, but readily available. Then he turned and lay full-length, pressed against Bobby, Remy curled around Bobby on the other side, and began to kiss Bobby again. Then he pulled away so that Remy could kiss Bobby.
They alternated like that for a while, touching, embracing, stroking, squeezing, until Bobby felt totally relaxed and extremely, sensually, excited. Johnny reached back for the Slick and began rubbing some on Bobby's inner thighs. Bobby moaned and opened his thighs wider. Johnny rubbed the Slick down Bobby's perineum, and Bobby raised and spread his legs even more widely, over both Johnny's and Remy's bodies, as Remy kissed him deeply. Bobby moaned into Remy's mouth as Johnny's index finger found his anus. Johnny rubbed the sensitive skin there gently, circling and pressing, until Bobby was so relaxed that Johnny could slide his finger into his tight hole.
Johnny let Bobby become accustomed to his finger a few moments, then he began to slip his finger in and out, gently at first, then more roughly as Bobby raised and wriggled his hips in response to Johnny's thrusting and probing. Johnny added a second finger; Bobby groaned into Remy's mouth and grabbed Johnny's arm, pressing it down so that Johnny's fingers moved more forcefully into his anus (*hell, he's good to go! Bobby, I never knew you could be like this!*). Johnny murmured, "Remy, get a pillow," and Remy took one from the top of the bed and, without breaking the kiss, brought it down and, as Bobby raised his hips, maneuvered it under Bobby's ass.
Johnny slowly moved his body so he was above Bobby and pulled Remy's hand down to Bobby's anus. Remy replaced Johnny's fingers with his own, Bobby moaning and thrusting his hips, so that Johnny could apply Slick to his own throbbing cock (*Christ, I hope to hell I can hold on long enough to give Bob a good ride*) and then Remy pulled his fingers out and Johnny put his cock at the entrance to Bobby's anus. Remy and Bobby stopped kissing and Bobby looked into Johnny's eyes; he saw warmth, lust, and friendship there, and he smiled widely and said, "C'mon, Jon, show me what you got!" Slowly, smiling, gasping slightly, Johnny pressed his cock into Bobby's tight anus, Bobby moaning and smiling and raising his hips higher to meet him. Finally, Johnny was in all the way. Bobby raised his head, and they kissed.
Then Johnny felt a finger enter his own anus. "Frere, I hope y' got a good sense of rhythm," said Remy from behind. Johnny and Bobby lay still--as still as they could--Johnny flexing his cock, Bobby squeezing his anus around Johnny's cock, both thinking they were going crazy with desire, as Remy fingered Johnny's ass. Then Johnny felt Remy's cock enter him. "Oh, oh, omigod," he sighed, "I must be the luckiest man on the planet." "Non, frere, I 'tink dat's me," Remy said breathlessly (*Ah, cher, y'look s'good lying dere wit' y'legs spread wit' Johnny inside you*).
"You're both wrong, it's me, oh, Jon, fuck me hard, Rem, please fuck Jon, I feel like I been starvin' all my life and finally I ain't and now I'm having a banquet it's always feast or famine omigod don't stop," Bobby babbled, hanging onto Johnny like a drowning man. The three men bucked and thrust, moans of passion intermingling with cries begging for more, more, until, screaming, they came together. Johnny lay sandwiched between Remy and Bobby and thought, once his brain cleared, "Well, that was a goddam home run."
Chapter Six - An interlude
Remy pulled his cock out of Johnny's ass slowly (*Dis de part I don' like--rather stay in dere*) and rolled off the two men. Then Johnny kissed Bobby gently as he pulled out and shifted his weight off Bobby (*Mmmm, Bob looks so cute right now. And Remy's gorgeous. Pretty amazing when the best-lookin' three guys in NY hook up*) and settled down next to Bobby, who sighed and stretched.
"Geez," Bobby said, "I feel so good right now I can't stand it."
"Mmmm, oui, mon petit chou," agreed Remy.
The three men lay together comfortably for a few minutes and then Bobby asked, "So what does that mean, anyways? I'm a little shoe?"
Remy laughed. "Non, cher, I called you my little cabbage." Johnny and Bobby cracked up.
"A _little cabbage_? That is soooo weird!" laughed Johnny.
Bobby giggled and gasped, "What the hell you been calling me all this time, Remy?"
Remy grinned lazily and said, "Oh, only endearments, mon bichou, what means my buck."
"As in deer? Oh, God, Remy!"
Remy leaned up on his elbow to look down on Bobby and Johnny. Fixing them with his most smoldering look, he intoned, "Johnny, vous etes restera a jamais un sublime rat de cave dans mon calecon."
"Sounds sexy, but means..." inquired Johnny with a raised eyebrow.
"You are forever a sublime ferret in my underpants," Remy cooed.
Both Johnny and Bobby cracked up again. Remy continued, "Bobby, vous etes la lamproie a la bourdelaise dans mon couer--You are a blood-sucking eel in my heart."
Bobby shrieked with laughter. "Johnny, quel beau caniche vous etes--Johnny, what a beautiful poodle you are."
Johnny nearly fell off the bed, he was laughing so hard. "Long time ago, I realized I c'n say anythin' in French and mos' people t'ink I'm saying beautiful words of love," Remy grinned.
"Oh, man, oh, man, I gotta learn more French," Bobby gasped.
"How much you know?" Johnny asked, trying to stop laughing.
"I know all the words for sex--at least, that's what Remy told me. Hey, I hope I ain't been asking you to do the funky chicken when I think I'm askin' you to go down on me!'
Remy chucked. "Non, mon amour, I wouldn't tease y' like dat. I been teachin' ya all de correct terminology for de body an' what t' do wit' it."
Johnny smiled at both of them. "Hey, you wanna stay over and have breakfast tomorrow?" Bobby and Remy looked at one another and, seeing they were in agreement ("Man, the whole night!" thought Bobby. "I wonder what else we're gonna do!") reached out and tapped the comm. "Hey, Sis, 's''it ok if Bobby and Remy stay to breakfast?"
"Oh, of course, baby brother--oh, dear, what does Remy like for breakfast?"
"Say pancakes," Bobby hissed.
"Oh, I like pancakes," Remy said, raising his voice slightly.
"Wonderful," came Sue's voice, "I have everything for pancakes."
"Thanks, Sis," said Johnny and tapped the comm off. Bobby touched Remy's face tenderly and said, "Sue makes the best pancakes on earth."
Remy smiled down at him and then looked at Johnny. "We ain' no trouble, frere?"
Johnny grinned. "Nah, Sis loves showin' off her culinary skills to an appreciative audience."
"Man," said Bobby in a musing tone, "Thinking about pancakes makes me hungry!"
"I c'd use a smoke, myself," said Remy.
"Well, let's shower up and you can indulge your filthy tobacco habit and we can grab a snack," said Johnny as he got up and headed to the bathroom and turned the shower on. Bobby got up and followed him. Remy got up, palmed the tube of Slick, smiled to himself, and planned a very interesting shower...
Chapter Seven
Remy looked at Bobby and Johnny, whose backs were to him, with a devilish smile. He was gonna spice things up but good, and show Bobby a new way of having fun with a man. Johnny and Bobby stepped into the large, glass-enclosed rectangular shower and Johnny leaned out and said, "Come on in, man," and then ducked back in again.
Remy put on his most arrogant, sultry smirk and entered the shower with insolence in every muscle. He reached out and put his hand around Johnny's throat. Johnny stopped talking to Bobby and slid his eyes at Remy. Remy fixed him with a voluptuous and brazen stare.
"You been runnin' dis show, you t'ink, frere, but me an' Bobby, we're taking you over for dis shower." Johnny paused, then gave the tiniest smile of acquiesence. Remy, pleased that Johnny knew exactly what he meant (Bobby merely looked puzzled), continued. "We gonna heat up that pretty ass o' yours and then we gonna make you beg f'r it. You gonna be meetin' pleasure and pain, frere, and we gonna be de ones givin' it to you."
Bobby looked startled. Remy, still holding on to Johnny's throat, put the Slick on the upper shower shelf and said to Johnny, "You bend y'self over an' put y'hands on dat lower shelf an' you keep 'em them 'til I say so--or Bobby says so, either," he added hastily. Johnny, released from Remy's (not very tight) grasp, bent over so that his ass was raised high.
"Now, spread dem legs, frere. Y'butt's gonna be sore all over." Bobby's eyes, already wide, opened even farther (*Bobby, don' let y'r eyeballs fall outta y'r head*) and he opened his mouth to--protest? question? but then Johnny spread his legs widely, revealing his rosy pucker, and Bobby shut his mouth with an audible click of his teeth. (*He's finally gettin' dis. Bobby, you gonna like dis a lot!*)
Remy said to Bobby, "Cher, y'help hold dis bad boy steady (*don't want anyone t'fall*) while I whale his pretty ass."
Bobby put his hands on Johnny's back to help hold him in place, and Remy drew his arm back. Whack! The sound of flesh slapping against flesh resounded in the bathroom, over and over, as Remy spanked Johnny's butt thoroughly. Johnny shut his eyes; Remy sure knew what he was doing. Johnny wondered briefly why most of his lovers liked to spank him: *Oh, hell, because it's fun.* He wondered, also, as the heat in his ass continued to build, whether Remy'd ever spanked Bobby. He didn't think so--Bob had seemed genuinely surprised--but he'd definitely like to see Remy spank Bobby sometime.
Johnny arched his back and raised his ass higher, inviting more spanks. Remy was pleased as hell he'd guessed right and obliged him, spanking Johnny on his tender inner cheeks and his rosy anus--these spanks elicted gasps from Johnny as the stinging pain rippled into him. Bobby could hardly believe what he was seeing and doing. His gorgeous lover spanking his beautiful bud--and everyone was enjoying it? Too wild! (*I'm gonna start worshipping the god of Borders! Wow!*)
Finally, when Johnny's ass was quite a pleasing shade of red, Remy stopped and said, "Now, frere, y'r ass is hot enough. Y'want Bobby's dick in there, feelin' that heat?"
"Oh, yes," Johnny breathed.
"Then y'gotta beg him f'r it, frere. Beg Bobby to fuck you with his cock. Tell him y'want it." Bobby thought his head would explode. Johnny turned his head slightly and said, breathing hard, "Bobby, I want your dick up my ass. I need it. Please fuck me, Bobby."
Remy slapped Johnny's ass again. "You really need it bad, don'ya, frere?"
"Yeah," Johnny said, as his body began to tremble with want and desire, "Bobby, I really need your cock in my ass. Fuck me hard, Bobby." Bobby somehow found enough wits to let go of Johnny's back and grab the Slick. He hastily applied it to his aching cock as Remy moved around in front of Johnny, raising him up slightly. Bobby put his hands on Johnny's cheeks (*Geez, they're hot!*) and, taking his cue from the whole scene, thrust his cock into Johnny's ass quickly and forcefully.
"Ahhh," Johnny cried, and began to thrust back. Remy pulled Johnny's head up so they could look at one another. "Frere, I wan'ya to beg f'r my cock in that pretty mouth a yr's. Lick my balls," and Remy pressed Johnny's face against his balls.
Johnny, nearly overwhelmed with sheer sensation, eagerly licked and kissed Remy's balls. Remy shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at Bobby, who looked back. They were both heady with power and lust. Johnny pulled his lips away from Remy's balls and said, "Remy, oh, Remy, please let me suck your sweet cock. I want your cock in my mouth. Fuck my face with your cock, Remy. I need it--"and the rest of his words were muffled, as Remy thrust his cock into Johnny's hot mouth.
Johnny sucked and Remy thrust. Johnny raised and thrust his ass for more pressure from Bobby's plunging cock. The three men quickened their pace, pumping harder and faster and deeper, until Bobby came as he howled. Johnny's cum spurted against the shower wall and floor; his wail was stifled by Remy's expanding cockhead as Remy came, screaming both Bobby's and Johnny's names and nicknames.
Chapter Eight
Remy stroked Johnny's hair gently as he pulled out of Johnny's mouth. Bobby slid up Johnny's body and hugged him tightly. "You ok, Jon?" he asked.
Johnny wrapped his hands around Bobby's. "I'm fine, bud."
"Well, I just wanted to make sure...I mean, we spanked you and everything..."
Johnny chuckled. "Bud, that wasn't a very hard spanking, and I agreed to it anyway. Let's straighten up real slow." The two stood up slowly. Johnny flexed his shoulders; Bobby was still inside him, still pretty hard. It felt nice...Bobby moved his arms from around Johnny's chest and up to his shoulders and started massaging his muscles. Remy regarded them both with solicitude.
"Frere, merci f' goin' along wit' my game like dat. T'ought it might be fun."
"Mmm, it was," Johnny said, his eyes shutting. Remy trailed his fingers softly along Johnny's lips, outlining their fullness. Johnny shaped his mouth into a kiss against Remy's long fingers. Remy traced Johnny's jawline, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, and carefully touched the very tips of Johnny's eyelashes. Bobby continued to rub Johnny's shoulders. The water from the three showerheads rained down on the three men, heating and soothing their bodies. Remy poured shampoo into his hands and started to wash Johnny's golden hair, rubbing it in slowly. Johnny sighed with contentment. He felt utterly at ease between Bobby and Remy, petted and indulged. Bobby was still tumescent inside Johnny; Remy and Bobby smiled at one another over Johnny's shoulder, pleased they were both pleasuring Johnny so well.
Remy finished lathering Johnny's hair, so he painstakingly rinsed Johnny's hair by using his hands to cup the warm water and let it flow down Johnny's head and down his back. Then, once Remy was certain he'd gotten all the shampoo out of Johnny's blond hair, he began to wash Johnny's body, from his strong throat, to his chest, to his underarms and down each muscled arm, playing with Johnny's fingers when he reached them, back up and down to Johnny's belly, hands rubbing and soaping the muscular ridges of Johnny's abdomen, then, with tenderness, Remy soaped and laved Johnny's cock and balls, washing Johnny's sex delicately yet thoroughly.
Bobby pulled out of Johnny gently and began washing his back. Johnny smiled, feeling very pampered. "You guys are spoiling me for ever showering alone again," he murmured.
Remy, now washing Johnny's legs, laughed quietly. "Frere, you got two very nice legs here," he said, enjoying the feeling of Johnny's sinewy legs. Bobby washed Johnny's buttocks with extreme caution; Johnny had said he didn't mind the spanking, but his butt still looked a little red and tender. Bobby washed between Johnny's cheeks (*Mmm, so nice. Guess that's why Remy wanted me to enjoy Johnny's backside, too. I wonder if they think all this is as delightful as I do, anyways. Guess I could ask them*) and said, his face on a level with Johnny's ass, "Hey, Rem, Jon, are you havin' as much fun as I am?"
Both Remy and Johnny burst out laughing. "Oh, oh, cher, we be having fun, oh, my!"
"Way, way fun, Bobby!"
"Just making sure," Bobby grinned to himself as he washed the backs of Johnny's legs. He tickled the backs of Johnny's knees; Johnny giggled and twitched his knees away. Bobby grinned more widely and reached up and tickled Johnny's ribs and sides. Johnny twisted, laughing, and said, "No fair, you!" and turned and grabbed Bobby and, holding him against his own body with one arm, reached out and soaped up his other hand, and began washing Bobby's chest and stomach vigorously. Bobby protested somewhat incoherently and to no avail. Remy, laughing along with Johnny, came around and helped Johnny wash Bobby's wriggling body, taking turns with Johnny to tickle Bobby's ribs.
"Hey, you guys! No fair! I'm too ticklish," Bobby gasped and laughed, squriming between his lover and his old friend.
"You started it!" Johnny laughed, washing Bobby's navel and then tickling him around his pubic area. Remy chortled and ran his soapy fingers all around Bobby's cock, washed his balls, and then proceeded to tickle those self-same balls.
"Hey, Rem, you bastard," Bobby laughed and gasped. "I can't stand it when you tickle me there!"
"Secret tickle spot?" grinned Johnny with lifted eyebrows.
"Oh, oui, frere, only de t'ree of us know dis tickle spot!" snickered Remy, "Oh, cher, we jus' cleanin' you up, you naughty boy!" he continued as he moved his fingers back, got more soap, and washed and tickled Bobby's perineum and anus as Johnny held on to his giggling, wriggling body.
"You're more trouble to wash than a little kid," Johnny laughed.
"More fun to wash, though," Remy chuckled, reaching back and scrubbing Bobby's butt with healthy vigor. He soaped his hands again and washed Bobby's thighs as Johnny continued to hold Bobby tightly. Remy looked up at his cher and his frere. Johnny was nibbling Bobby's ears and neck and making Bobby giggle and writhe happily.
Remy smiled to himself; this all felt so good and so right. Johnny fit with them perfectly--no possessiveness, no jealousy--just loving fun, gentle teasing, and piquant experimentation. He liked seeing Bobby so happy and so relaxed--and, he admitted to himself, it had been a long time since he'd felt so at ease with anyone except Bobby (*Mebbe dis become somethin' that'll last like I wan' Bobby's and my love t' last*).
He was startled out of his reverie, washing Bobby's toes, by a gentle tap on the head. "Hey, hot stuff, your turn to get cleaned up," Bobby smiled down at him, "Stand up so your loyal servants can, um, um, service you."
"Oh, Bobby, smooth," Johnny laughed, pouring shamoo in his hand. Remy twisted his lips wryly and stood.
"Oh, yes, my dears, 'service' me, whatever y'two mean by dat."
Chapter Nine
Johnny finished drying off his hair and tossed the towel in the approximate direction of the bathroom; he then crossed to the dresser to pull out three t-shirts. "And a warm shirt, Jon, Remy gets cold easy," Bobby asked, trying, apparently, to hop into his jeans rather than step into them and pull them up.
"Sure," Johnny replied, digging out a flannel shirt and throwing it at Remy, who'd already gotten his pants on. Johnny tossed a t-shirt to Bobby (*you are so goofy, sometimes, Bob*) and pulled his shirt on and tucked it in his jeans. "Hmmm, Remy?" Johnny said in an inquiring tone; Remy looked up from buttoning the flannel shirt. "If you wanna spank me again, just say so. I like that, so we don't need to have a scene played necessarily. But spanking's about my limit that way."
"Mine, too, frere," Remy smiled. Bobby looked at both of them; he'd succeeded in getting his jeans up but was currently entangled slightly in the shirt.
"Hum. Well, it looked sexy enough, but I ain't sure why'd you'd like that, Jon. I mean, I 'member you used ta get paddled when you were younger and you din't seem to like that!"
"Hey, bud, there's a zillion miles of difference between getting paddled by Reed or Benjy for pulling a major screw-up and being spanked by someone who can't wait to get his hands on your ass!"
"An' your ass is pret' irresistible, frere," Remy commented, "But I gotta say dat I'm s'prised y'got hit when you was a kid."
"Not hit, paddled, and what were they gonna do, ground me? Even before I was the Torch, it was always, 'Johnny, would you get outside and run around the block a few times to get rid of some of that excess energy?' 'Sides, Reed and Ben are kinda old-fashioned and they were always fair. I mean, I got into some idiotic stuff when I was a kid."
"Hmmm, me too, I got switched by my Papa whenever I got ferruled by de nuns at school."
"You went to Catholic School? Man, that's rough!"
"Mm-hmm. I couldn't get nothin' over dem nuns!"
"Well," said Bobby, "My dad belted me and I hated, hated, hated it and I hated what he'd say to me the whole time, too," and tugged the t-shirt over his head. Johnny and Remy exchanged glances; yes, they both knew that Bobby and his old man hadn't had a good relationship when he was a kid. Johnny decided it was snack-time.
"Let's get some ice cream and we can bug Ben as well, which is fairly entertaining," he said, opening the door. The other two followed him down the hall and all three paused at the living room, where Ben sat, mired in chip bags and empties and cigar ends, watching ESPN-2.
"What's he watchin', frere?" Remy whispered.
"My God, it looks like a lumberjack contest," Bobby gasped. Johnny shook his head and motioned the others to follow him to the kitchen. "It's such a pain--he watches _anything_ on the sports channels, _any_ thing called a sport. I caught him watching a _backgammon_ competition once. It's pathetic! I really can't stand it sometimes. He watches _golf_, for Chrissake!" said Johnny, pulling containers of ice cream out of the freezer. "Hey, Bob, you wanna rocketpop?"
Bobby considered. "Maybe later, Jon, do you got Chunky Monkey?"
"Yeah, and double chocolate fudge with brownies and chocolate coffee mint. Oh, and vanilla."
"T'row de vanilla back an' hand me dat double chocolate stuff," Remy said, "We gonna eat right outta de cartons, right?"
"Is there any other way to eat ice cream?" The three men settled down at the kitchen table and began devouring ice cream, switching flavors back and forth. "Oh, hi, Reed, wassup?" said Johnny around a mouthful of Chunky Monkey.
"Oh, hello, son. I was in the lab" (Johnny rolled his eyes at Remy and Bobby as if to say *What a fucking surprise*) "and I realized I was hungry. Since I have not dined yet today--"
"Yes, you did, Reed, with all of us earlier. Sis made jambalaya, 'member?"
"It was good jambalaya, too," murmured Remy, spooning up some double chocolate.
"Oh, is it still today?" asked Reed, seating himself, straightening his lab jacket and getting a spoon from the drawer at the same time.
"No, it was tonight, and it's still tonight, but dig in," Johnny said in a slightly exasperated tone, which none of the other three men reacted to; they all recognized this was an old pattern in the FF family.
"I see you prefer the double chocolate, Remy. Chocolate was known as the food of the gods at one time--" ("Still is,s'far s'I''m concerned," Remy said in an undertone) "--and was first brought from Mexico to Spain in 1520. Oddly, they consumed it sans any type of sweetening agent--" ("Oh, God, not another fucking history lesson" Johnny muttered, rolling his eyes again) "--but of course sugar had been added by the time the first chocolate factory had been erected--" (Bobby giggled) "--in Germany in 1756. The unsweetened drink was enjoyed by the Elizabethans immensely. Bobby, you seem to enjoy the chocolate coffee mint confection."
"S'yummy," Bobby said.
"Of course, Kaldi the Arabian goatherd was credited with the discovery of coffee in 850, but I consider it safe to say that coffee was known before that time. If you like mocha, Bobby--"
"Also yummy!"
"you'll be fascinated to know that in 1450 Mocha was the main port for coffee export; coffee was imbibed for the first time in Europe in 1517--"
("You can actually hear the semi-colons when he talks,)" Johnny groused, spooning up more Chunky Monkey
"--and I would be interested in discovering whether anyone had combined the two flavors, coffee and chocolate, after 1520. Of course, when Venice imported coffee from Turkey in 1580, it was at approximately the same time Ivan IV, commonly referred to in the vernacular as Ivan the Terrible, killed his son; we cannot blame that outburst of violence upon coffee. In 1643, Johnny--"
"Give me strength," Johnny muttered
"--Parisians began their romance with coffee. One wonders how many poems have been written about the bean; in 1727 coffee was first planted in what people then alluded to as the 'New World' and--"
("You can hear the quotation marks, too,") Johnny scowled around some double chocolate.
"--the irony is that it was planted in Brazil, since in 1928 Brazil's economy collapsed due to over-production of coffee. You all know, of course, that 1928 was the year Joe Davis won the British Professional Billiards Championship and a boning and cleaning machine was first used for kippers--"
"Reed!" Bobby yelped, "You got something in your pockets!"
Reed looked down, puzzled, at his jacket pockets. A twitching pink nose, surrounded by long golden whiskers, poked out of the top of each front pocket.
"Reed, you got lab rats in your pockets again!" Johnny snapped.
"Oh, dear, so I have. I wonder how long they've been there," Reed said in a musing tone.
Remy, trying to choke down laughter, said, "Reed, you t'ink dey hungry f'ice cream?"
"Hmm? Oh, no, Remy, thank you, I keep them on a special diet. Perhaps I should investigate their nutritional intake for the past 24 hours."
"That's right, Reedy, why'n't you do that?" suggested Johnny, rolling his eyes again. Reed looked at Johnny and, poker-faced, said,
"Now, son, how many times have I told you that if you keep doing that, your face will freeze that way?" Johnny looked at Reed, trying to look outraged and not succeeding very well, as Bobby and Remy burst out laughing.
"Well, gentlemen, I have sated my appetite and will wend my way labward. Johnny, in case I don't see you before the morning, sweet dreams," as Reed stood, bent down, and kissed Johnny on his forehead.
"'Night, Reed, try to get some sleep," Johnny smiled.
"God, Reed cracks me up. Why does he have rats in his pockets?" Bobby asked, as Reed disappeared down the hall.
"Oh, he's developing superior rats. First of all, for some reason, he's made 'em all blond. Second, he's making them super-smart."
"Frere, if he makes dem wit' wings, we won' need pigeons anymore."
"Oh, lord, flying genius rats. Wonderful," Bobby said dreamily. "It'd be fun to let some loose in Blue's lab."
"We all 'bout done wit' de ice cream f'now? I'm jonesin' bad f' a smoke."
"All right, addict, let's go out on the pier and you can pollute your lungs and we can look at the lovely river."
Chapter Ten
Remy, Bobby, and Johnny walked outside onto the lower roof of the FF hq. Remy slid a cigarette out of his pack and put it to his lips; a tiny flame appeared at the end and Remy inhaled deeply. "Nothin' like a good smoke," he said softly.
"That's absolutely right, there _is_ nothing like a _good_ smoke," Johnny commented.
"Y'ain' no health fiend like some people I know, eh?"
Bobby tsked, "Rem, I just want ya to be around like, forever, is all."
"I know, cher," Remy said quietly. He pretended not to like Bobby's fussing, but sometimes it did make him feel cared for. They stood, quietly, for a few moments, watching the brightest stars wheel in the sky, the flashing lights of jets blinking far above, the glistening, glittering brightness of the city at night.
"It's never really dark here," Remy murmured.
"No, but we like it--I mean, we're totally city people. All the activity, the noise--I can't sleep without the sounds of sirens," Johnny replied.
"I don' much like de dark myself anymore," Remy continued, even more softly. There was a pause--Bobby felt as if something was going to happen. "What do you see, Johnny?" Remy asked, seemingly without consequence. "I see heat. I mean, you know, I see people and colors and such, but I see heat. It's a beautiful way of seeing--I can't imagine any other way of seeing anymore."
"Bobby, he sees heat, too, or mebbe it's de absence of cold."
"Um, well, really, what I see is the hotness and coldness in like, layers, of everything around me and how they merge and change, 'specially when I change." There was the characteristic creak of Bobby turning to ice--Remy could almost feel the cold mere inches away.
"Mmm, yeah," said Johnny, and the faintest crackle told Remy Johnny was glowing with the fire that was always within him.
Remy kept looking out at the river, cold, murky, deep. "I see in th' dark. I c'n see de differences in leaves in th' night. I c'n tell where t'ings end and begin, discrete, separate, no matter how dark it is. Don' matter if dere's no sun, no moon, I c'n see where dere's no light. I c'n see what's in every shadow. I've seen where dere's nothin' but white. White ain' th' opposite of black. It's jus' another way of makin' everythin' into shadows. It's no color at all, white. It's bloodless, ashes, dead."
Bobby and Johnny remained quiet, just listening, creaking, crackling.
"Bobby, if Bobby had been in Antarctica, he'd have been as strong as a god. Johnny burns s'hot dat he'd have melted th' snow and he'd have flown away to the warm places. Flesh, though, flesh can' walk back to where it c'n live. Flesh falls, no matter how long it takes f'r it to fall, where dere's no sound and no light and nothin' but white. Flesh gets empty in a place like dat."
Bobby and Johnny continued to listen.
"That kind of white, it bites an' cuts an' stabs flesh through. Dat ancient white, s'bleak, ain't like a blizzard which seems alive--dat white is still an' lifeless. No place f'r flesh."
He felt Johnny and Bobby pull their powers back into themselves and move closer to him, nearly touching him. Remy shook his head. "Listen t'me babble like a chile."
"Remy," Bobby breathed.
"No, cher, I'm rattlin' on like dat's de only t'ing dat ever happened t'me. Y'know," Remy continued, striving for a lighter tone and failing completely," did I tell you, Bobby, dat I coulda sworn I heard Cyke's voice de whole time I was out dere, tellin' me to move my ass, dammit, or he'd kick it, dammit, I was an X-Man?"
Remy felt Bobby's hand on his arm. Johnny was so close, yet not touching, not yet.
"S'nothin, I'm jus', sometimes I think too much 'bout t'ings in de dark sometimes, is all."
Johnny said, still without touching him, "Y'know, um, I stand by my friends, like back when Spidey was s'posed to be a criminal, I trusted him and stuff, and Subbie can be a real prick but I'd fight and, y'know, I would die if I had to for him, and y'know, I love Wyatt and if he needs me I'm like there, and all. Um. I mean, Ben's gone a little crazy and tried to kill us, to kill me, a couple times, but like I love him, he's my pal, and y'know, I'm there for him. Um. Even y'know, if people need me and they aren't even on the planet, I'll figure something out or something. Um, Remy, um, I'd like do anything for Bobby and I'm telling you I'll do anything for you and I'm there, I mean, here, or there, wherever, whenever you need me, okay?"
Bobby held Remy's arm a little tighter. Remy thought, "I'm not gonna cry I'm not gonna cry," and then he was, and two pairs of arms were wound around him, holding him, embracing him, stroking him, two mouths were next to his face, two breaths whispering across his face, saying I love you, I love you, you're not alone, you got us, I'm here for you, you ain't alone, Remy, Remy, Remy and then his forgotten cigarette was crushed underfoot and he was sinking slowly to the rooftop and two mouths were kissing his tears and then he was kissing back, tasting his tears on two mouths, and then one mouth moved down his clothes, down to his sudden erection, and fingers were undoing his jeans, and his flesh was moved, and engulfed in the warmth of a mouth, and his own mouth opened to take in the flesh of his lover "Remy Remy Remy Remy" and the brightest stars whirled through the night sky and jets screamed overhead and sirens called in the darkness.
(Back at the Manse)
Warren stalked around the games room, wings high and close with annoyance. "Jean, will you _just_ contact Bobby for a _second_? He's out there with Gambit, it's late, he hasn't called. Will you just for one second _check_ Bobby out?"
Jean looked at him wearily. "Warren, I am _not_ going to pry into Bobby's head. He left a message saying they'd be staying in the city for dinner. He's a big boy, Warren" <<Really, babe? I think Bobby would appreciate your telling him that...>> <<Scott, hush!>> "and I really think that you wouldn't be like this if Bobby were out with anyone else. Right?" Warren scowled and turned away.
"Oh, but Ah think Warren has a right ta be concerned," Rogue said in a syrupy-soft voice. "After all, Bobby is a trifle...naive, and Remy has a lot more experience in some thangs than Bobby does. And Remy's got Bobby tied around his little finger."
Warren, not pleased by the support from that particular quarter but taking what he could get, snapped, "That's goddam right, Jean, Gambit's probably dragged Bobby to some sex club or seedy bar full of junkies and is no doubt trying to drag Bobby down to his level and you won't even try to help!"
Jean shut her eyes. "Warren, we have known Bobby for years--are you seriously telling me you think he's going to drop all his values for some, oh, I don't know, ridiculous bar scene in New York? Just because he's told to?"
"Well, Jean," Rogue jumped in with green eyes open honestly ever so wide and concerned, "Bobby is just so sweet an' innocent and Ah think his friends have a right ta be concerned. Ah mean, Remy...you know how he can talk a person inta doing what she--Ah mean, he--wouldn't evah do otherwise."
(*Lord, thought Jean, if she starts harping on _that_ again*)
Warren shook his wings in exasperation. The thought of his old friend, Bobby, tangled up in whatever--SICK--sexual practices that--that--(*Christ, I can't think of a word loathesome enough to describe him*) Rrremy Le _Beau_ would indulge in, the kind of scum low-lifes that filthy thief would hang around, exposing poor Bobby to that trash, made Warren so furious he could hardly control his feathers.
"Will alla you cram it? I can't hear this lumberjack competition over yer yappin'," Logan growled. <<A lumberjack competition. Jean, the guy's certifiable.>> <<Scott, stop it.>>
Warren turned with a jerk. "Jean, tell Scott I'm gonna use whatever fucking passes for Cerebro in this asylum."
"Warren, don't! Why don't you just talk things out with Betsy, or go work out, or something, and stop dwelling on what you think might be happening to Bobby?"
"Fine, fucking fine!" Warren nearly flew out of the room. Jean pressed her fingertips to her temples. Rogue sidled away.
Warren, feet on the floor, moved down the hallway with a stiff, haughty stride. Dammit, what the hell was wrong with Jean and Scott? Why weren't they concerned about what that thieving, murderous scumbag was doing with Bobby? Christ, the creep was probably showing Bobby how fun hard drugs were at this very moment, or tying him up in some obscene gay bar so that Bobby could be exposed to all kinds of perverts and sickos.
Warren thought about going down to Hank's lab and railing at him but, even though Hank had assured Warren he was keeping medical tabs on Remy and Bobby--Remy especially, considering his foul reputation--he'd seemed anxious to take a "hands-off" tack on the relation---ugh! What a name for it! Scott and Jean had a relationship. He and Betsy had a relationship. Remy was just exploiting Bobby. Warren was so focussed on his anger that he nearly walked into Star, Ric, and Ad (*Fucking ridiculous nickname. What do these kids think they are--rap stars or something?*).
"Excuse us," Ric said loudly.
"Yeah, whatever," Warren muttered. Warren kept walking. Those kids, now, that made sense they were gaying it up, horny teenagers, etc., and two of them were aliens, anyway. Bobby made no sense at all--especially with that traitor!
"Geez, wonder what's up his ass?" Ad wondered aloud.
"Probably the same-type ramrod most of these old guys have," snapped Ric.
"Star, I don't know how I let you talk me into coming back here--"
"Really, Julio? I believe I was kissing your--"
"It was a rhetorical comment! Dios!"
Chapter Eleven
Rogue smoothed her shirt down over her huge breasts and slender waist. Warren was about crazy with rage at Remy for keeping Bobby away in "the big city" for too long--of course, in the featherhead's opinion, a second anyone spent with Remy was a second too long.
Rogue smiled to herself; things were going the way she wanted, as usual. She was, after all, the frail Southern damsel, young, easily hurt--at least, emotionally--so nearly a virgin, so fresh, so damaged by a man most of the other X-Men disliked and distrusted. All she had to do was widen her big green eyes and let incipient tears glitter on those emerald surfaces, and both men and women fell over themselves to reassure her, protect her, support her.
All she'd had to do to have the others leave Remy to die slowly in Antarctica (and let die her besmirchment by the thief--he'd taken her most valuable weapon in her games of manipulation) was to play off their expected responses to the shocking revelations of the trial, her own deflowerment, and the confusion surrounding the chain of events that had landed them, temporarily without powers and subject to Nanny, to set in motion Remy's betrayal.
Hank had been easy (Rogue had known he'd kept replaying his previous exposure to Nanny in his overly-analytical brain--that reduction to helpless childhood, his belief that, save for himself and the false Jean, his teammates were dead, and his lonely struggle in the icy wastes carrying the unconscious Phoenix) to bend to Rogue's suggestions and imprecations against Remy. Joseph, of course, was malleable as wax in Rogue's tender care. Magneto's clone had really believed he'd loved her and, better yet, she'd made him think she'd loved him (*You wasn't nothin' but a cat's-paw and a sex-toy, honeychile*) and his fury at learning Remy had taken Rogue's precious maidenhood had been easy to twist into noble vengeance.
Trish and that icky Maggot hadn't even counted. And she's seen to it, through sobs, sighs, and a pretense of sorrow, as well as cues to her unknowing pawns, that the rest of the X-Men hadn't gone back there for him. It had been easy to fan Storm's guilt and grief over the massacre into a rage against the obvious scapegoat. Luckily, Scott had been in such straits that neither he nor Jean had an instant to spare to consider Remy's fate until--obviously--it was too late for them to do anything.
Wolvie--well, he was such a sucker for damsels in distress she'd maneuvered him to her way of thinking--it was justice!--with a modicum of her skills. It hadn't hurt that Bobby, the one most clearly fit to go back, had been so wrought up by Scott's operation, the effects of Bastion, and the clutter of new X-Men, that he hadn't even thought to try to get hold of transport elsewhere (*Thank God Bastion stole all our equipment and transportation. No one could have gotten to Remy or even located him*).
It had been a severe shock when she'd learned the thief had lived and was back. Still, she'd immediately garnered all the care and attention back to herself, as she deserved, It had been simple to pull Remy back into her web by creating the illusion, accompanied by the requisite tears, heaving bosom, and honeyed, sorrowful tone, that it had all been _his_ fault. That she'd left him to die because _he'd_ made her believe that, and it had grieved her to grant his selfish wish, even though that wish had hurt _her_. Slowly, yet surely, she'd woven layer after layer of suspicion and hatred manifested at Remy.
Luckily, his own real remorse had worked in her favor, the idiot. What a fool, grieving over a bunch of misfit sewer rats! Even Storm, leader of those monsters, didn't care enough about them personally to go and live with them down there! And there was Remy, repentent, hardly able to look Angel in the eyes--so penitent was he about the torture Angel had undergone on behalf of those Morlocks--and his foolishness made it simplicity itself to cozen the others into making him more and more an outcast--even though he'd done nothing worse than most of the rest of them had done at some point.
This latest stumble with Bobby the naive was going to result in Remy getting knocked flat out, of that Rogue was sure. In any event, it wouldn't hurt to keep gulling her principal targets. Rogue knocked at the door. "Storm? Y'all in theah, sugah? Ah sure need someone to talk to now," and, as Rogue heard Ororo's invitation to enter, she put on her saddest, most helpless, most innocent face.
Chapter Twelve
Ric, Star, and Ad decided (well, actually Ric decided; Star and Ad went along with his decisions usually--even as regarded Ad's nickname. When X-Treme had met up with the other two in Mexico, Ric had announced, "I know you hate the name Adam, but I ain't calling you X-Treme, especially not when we're fooling around. I'm calling you Ad until you figure out a better name to call yourself," and that was that) to hell with working out ("Not any more today, Star!") and screw watching tv, so the three young men headed up to "their" room in the (as usual) over-populated mansion.
Once inside, Star gathered Ric into a hard embrace and kissed him with the gentleness with which only a dangerously strong man can kiss. Ad watched; he loved watching Star and Ric kiss (*plus it's about the only time Ric shuts up*) and he loved the way the muscles in Star's arms rippled and bulged slightly as he tightened his grasp around Ric's body, pressing Ric against the hardness of his chest.
Ad watched, feeling his cock harden, as Star kissed Ric hard and deeply; he knew that Star liked to bite Ric's tongue and make him groan with desire. Star finally pulled his mouth from Ric's and began licking Ric's face; he loved to taste every inch of Ric's skin, comparing his face to his throat, his chest to his well-muscled belly, his cock to his ass. Suddenly, Star stopped licking Ric's jawline and looked directly into Ric's eyes.
"Oh, Star," Ric sighed, "You have such bedroom eyes," and thought how wonderfully Star's eyes seemed to darken and soften when he looked at Ric--the warrior's eyes held such gentleness and serenity when he was about to make love to Ric, his Ric. Star released Ric from his powerful hug and he and Ad started throwing cds, magazines, and books off the (too-small but somehow they fit) bed, as Ric began stripping.
Ad peeled off his t-shirt, untied and took off his boots and socks, and unbuttoned his jeans, glad to release his erection from the tight confines of clothing. He remembered how it had been in Mexico--fighting gun-runners all day, then scraping together enough money for a cheap room somewhere (if they didn't have to rough it by camping out, which wasn't so bad, either). As soon as they entered whatever dingy, cramped room they'd gotten, they'd take off their clothes and wouldn't put them back on until they had to leave. Fighting and sex, with occasional interludes for eating large, inexpensive and healthy meals. A perfect existence, Ad thought. He kind of wished Star hadn't persuaded them to come to the mansion in answer to Cable's request; they'd all been happier back in Mexico.
Ric walked over to Star and pulled his hair-covering off carefully, then let Star's hair fall loose. He ran his fingers through Star's long golden hair as Star stripped off his boots and clothes; Ric loved to play with Star's hair. It was such soft, thick hair, the only part of Star's body that seemed soft and thus out-of-place on such a tough warrior. Ric loved the contrast between the public persona and the private reality of his beloved; only he, and now Ad, their comrade, knew how sweet and kind Star was. Ric moved one hand down to Star's chest and stroked the muscular slabs of muscle, those low pecs, and his nipples, large flat perfect rosy disks, then slid his hand up to Star's big shoulders and down one arm, enjoying the feel of that peaking bicep. It was a powerful turn-on for Ric that his lover was so damn well-built, and when Ad had joined up with them, Ric had the pleasure of being with two incredibly brawny studs--not that he himself was lacking in that department; Ric happened to be leaner than the other two, which seemed to please _them_.
Star's ten-inch cock was pointing straight up, and looked hard enough to break rocks. Ric sighed with lust. "Mmm, I think Star and I should sixty-nine, and Ad should fuck me," and Star and Ad smiled hungrily.
Star pushed Ric down on the bed and began kissing him urgently, passionately, licking and biting Ric's flesh with wanton craving, murmuring "Julio, Julio" over and over, as Ad rubbed and caressed Star's well-muscled back and rounded asscheeks.
Ric squeezed Star's hardened nipples and moaned "I love you, I love you, oh Star, I love you" and then Star pulled Ric over himself and Ad began rubbing Ric's ass cheeks roughly, parting his cheeks and stroking his fingers down Ric's crack, teasing his puckered asshole. Star slowly twisted himself under Ric's body, raising Ric up on all fours, so his mouth could travel down Ric's chest, nibbling Ric's nipples until the tips were raised and hard, then down Ric's muscled belly, slowly, tantalizing Ric with his own body, shifting it up to tease Ric, letting Ric lick and kiss his belly, until Star reached Ric's cock and balls.
Star took first one, then the other, of Ric's balls in his mouth, then licked up Ric's cock as though he were lapping at an ice-cream cone. Ric had the head of Star's cock in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it as he played with Star's balls and ran his fingers up and down Star's perineum. Ad lubed Ric's asshole and his own cock and pressed his cock against Ric's anus, then he began to wedge the tip in. Ric moaned loudly and Star took Ric's cock all the way inside his mouth and throat. Ric deep-throated Star's cock and inserted two fingers into Star's ass. Ric's tight, muscular hole clung to Ad's cock, making Ad almost crazy with lust; he plunged his cock into Ric's hole again and again; then Ad felt one of Star's fingers press into his own asshole.
Ad felt nearly delirious with pleasure; he deep-dicked Ric's ass roughly, knowing Ric liked to be fucked hard. Ric's cock swelled and filled Star's mouth and throat; Star's cock grew even more rigid in Ric's mouth. Then Ric's cum flooded Star's mouth--Star shot cum into Ric's throat--Ad's cock gushed in spurting bursts into Ric's ass. Star's cum trickled out the corners of Ric's mouth and Ad came so hard that some of his cum slid out of Ric's ass and ran over his balls. All three trembled with the paroxysms of a painfully exquisite orgasm.
Chapter Thirteen
Ad sighed happily as he pulled out of Ric's ass. "By T'thyees'sha, I'm so damn glad I ran into you guys," he said, lying down by Ric on his side.
"We, too, are well-pleased by your companionship, Ad," said Star, pulling himself up and lying down, head on Ric's chest so he could listen to Ric's heartbeat--he found that very soothing--and he placed a proprietary hand on Ric's cock. Ric settled down. Then he sighed.
Ad, thinking Ric wanted to read to them as he always did at night, after sex, reached down to the floor and felt around until he found _Skin_, the "X-Files" novel Ric had been reading. They'd all decided Scully was one of the coolest, toughest chyx ever, and Mulder and Krycek ought to really kiss sometime. Ad thought back to when they'd first hooked up (*no, can't think about the first time yet--Ric likes to read to us a while first before we do it again*) when he'd thought Star was being uncharacteristically patient listening to Ric read stories while he lay his head on Ric's chest. Then Ad had slowly realized that it was awfully nice--they'd finished _Robinson Crusoe_(Ric's favorite), _Oliver Twist_, _Rebecca_, and _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd_--listening to Ric's voice while lying quietly, sated, momentarily, with sex.
Ad handed the book to Ric, but Ric didn't open it. "What is the matter, beloved? Are you still upset about the quarrel we had with Samuel and Roberto?" Star asked quietly.
Ric shook himself slightly--that meant he was annoyed. "Yeah, that really pissed me off," he said snappishly.
"Roosha, but I don't know why the hell those two started in on us like that," Ad said, becoming irritated himself at the memory of what had gone on that morning, "I hardly know either of 'em, but they just barreled away at us. What the rakk is it to them what went on between me and Michelle?"
"Fuck if I know," said Ric. "I mean, what Rahne and I had was a long time ago, and we're both fine with it. What the hell Sam meant by sayin' I betrayed her love an' broke her heart and destroyed her trust in men an' all is fucking beyond me."
"Chayeh, Michelle betrayed _me_, not the other way around, and it happened about a million years ago, anyway. What the rakk was this Roberto on me about her?" Ad snarled.
Star, quiet until now, said, "Thank you, beloved, for pulling me away." Ric pressed his hand against Star's face gently; Sam and 'Berto had been really hammering at him and Ad, throwing out insults about how callous and uncaring the two of them were, while he and Ad had tried to refute, as calmly as they could--which wasn't very calmly--all the charges of heartbreaking and deception, and Star had kept out of it, as was his wont--both he and Ric worked hard to balance their relationship so neither would be too overly protective of the other--until Sammy had taunted,"Look out, Shatty, for your own heart--both these guys would toss it in the dust if it was convenient for them!" Star had tensed; Ric had known he'd better get the three of them out of there before a full-scale fight broke out, and had grabbed Star's arm and squeezed warningly. Star had allowed Ric to pull him and Ad outside, where Ric blasted small rocks, cursing all the while, and Star and Ad traded combat punches until they'd calmed down.
"Y'know," Ric said in a meditative tone, "What puzzles me is that it was so unlike Sammy. He's always been such a nice guy. I mean, 'Berto has a temper, but Sammy's always been fair and kind to everybody. Suddenly he flips out on us?"
"It ain't 'cause we're gay or anything, is it? By Kyhri's bloody claws, I'll go kick his ass if it is," muttered Ad.
"Nah, Sammy and 'Berto always been cool about that--of course, 'Berto kids us, but he kids everybody. It was more like, I dunno, like they were repeating what somebody else told 'em--but Rahne's ok about everything, and I can't imagine 'Chelle weepin' and moanin' about your past relationship--she's too mature for that. I just don't get it--but I'm gonna seriously try to figure out what the problem is," said Ric. Then he shook himself again. "Ah, hell, Star, you up to fucking me senseless?"
"Of course, my love," Star smiled.
"What do you want me to do?" Ad grinned.
"Suck my cock, Ad, any way you please." And with that, Star slid down and pulled Ric's legs over his shoulders and thrust in hard, just as Ric liked it, and Ad grabbed Ric's cock and nibbled at it with his teeth and then swallowed it down.
_____________________________
Meanwhile, in Storm's huge, airy room, Rogue sat huddled on the bed, the very picture of a brave, sad little girl. Ororo put her arm around Rogue's shoulders. "Please, Rogue, do try to calm down. You're being very courageous; I know how difficult it is for you to cope with the fact that Remy is involved with Bobby now, but--"
"Oh, Storm, y'all don't know how hard it is fo' me ta see him kissin' Bobby, leadin' him on. Bobby's so sweet an' innocent, he don't see how Remy really is; Ah mean, Bobby don' understan' that a man lahk Remy ain't the type of guy ta stay with jus' one person. Ah feel so guilty, somehow, 'cause Ah feel lahk it's mah fault that Remy's gotten Bobby up ta somethin' no good in the city tonight."
"Oh, my dear, Robert does seem like a sweet, simple child sometimes, but I feel certain that if there were any real problem, Scott and Jean would--"
"Nah, it ain't lahk that, Storm. Somehow, Ah guess, Jeannie thinks that po' Bobby's capable of takin' care of himself. She don' seem ta realize that Remy is...kinda manipulative, that he could talk Bobby inta doin' anythin' , maybe even have sex with a stranger if Remy wanted him to, ya know?"
"Well, I will agree that Remy is...very persuasive--"
"Oh, it ain't jus' that. It's also that, well, ya see, Ah jus'--Ah jus'--it's so very hard fo' me ta say this, but ya know, Ah was a virgin befo' Remy talked me inta having sex--Ah cain't call it makin' love, 'cause he didn't evah really love me, Ah know that now, and aftawards I jus' got so desperate Ah went with Magneto, Ah was feelin' so hopeless 'bout men an' love an' all, 'cause mah heart was broken, especially afta all the stuff that came out at the trial, about Remy plotting to kill the--Oh, Ah'm sorry, Storm, Ah shouldn't have said nothin."
"No, child, it is all right," Storm said, feeling unbidden tears sting her eyes.
"Well, are y'all sure, Storm, dear? Ah hope ya don' mind me callin' ya 'dear,'" said Rogue softly.
"No, child," Strom replied, as Rogue nestled in closer, pressing her head against Storm's breasts.
"Ya see, Ah was a virgin an' all--Ah know how y'all feel 'bout the body bein' a temple, but Remy was so convincin' that Ah didn't listen with mah head, jus' mah heart, an' po' Bobby jus' as innocent as Ah was. Ah jus' feel lahk there's some way Ah could help Bobby if he'd let me, but Remy practically has him hypnotized, under some kinda spell or somethin' "(*Damn that little bastard! When she'd tried turning Bobby against Remy, he'd just stared at her a moment, then he stood, said,"I have nothing to say to you," and left the room. Asshole! Faggot!*) "an', well, Ah jus' feel so alone an' so wretched, Storm," and Rogue pressed her body even more tightly against Storm's; she could feel the other woman's nipples harden.