Title: Seal of Secrecy
Author: Spirit Melody (kat@lsak.fsnet.co.uk) & Firesong (firesong@ukonline.co.uk)
Website: none
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/main characters: Gambit/Wolverine, Gambit/Other
Series/Sequel: unfinished, parts 1-3
Summary: Humans and mutants alike are turning up gruesomely murdered, and it's up to the X-Men to find the culprit and bring him to justice. They may also learn a lot about everyone's favorite Cajun in the process.
Disclaimer: We don't own these characters, even though we may fantasize about them often. Please don't sue us, because all you'll get is some senile old felines. Did we mention the fleas?
Date: April 2002
Archive/distribution:
Warning: Non-con, Sex, Violence, Bad Language and plenty of Remy-angst. Do not read unless you are old enough, because we will not be held responsible for your innocence being totally and utterly shattered.
Notes: In this story, Logan and Remy are already in a serious relationship. And in terms of timelines, this is set before any of the events surrounding Antarctica, but obviously Remy and Rogue have ended their relationship.
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Seal of Secrecy 1
By Spirit Melody & Firesong
Charles sat in his Shi'ar wheelchair behind his desk, a thoughtful, and not particularly happy expression on his face. He stared at the file on his desk, it contained information, photos and news articles on a series of disappearances and murders. He and Hank had collected it from a variety of sources, perhaps the most helpful a young police officer not yet corrupted by money and hate. She had passed copies of all of the police files on all of the connected cases to him, after realising it was being swept under the carpet by her superiors. An action, however illegal, that gave Charles a little more security that his - no, the X-Men's - dream was indeed possible.
He knew what he had to do, and had Scott's agreement after he'd talked about it with him. It was the only way they had any chance of catching the man who was doing this, or at least finding out his identity. All the victims had been prostitutes working in New York city, all male, human and mutant, young to in their late thirties, with absolutely no visible trace of a link between any of them, apart from their occupation, sex, and where they waited to be picked up. They had an obligation to try their best to stop this happening again, so why was he finding it so hard to ask a certain young man to do what Charles had to ask him to do?
Sighing in resignation, Charles asked Remy to come to his study, he had a matter to discuss with him.
And now, ten minutes later, Charles was wondering if he could have gone about this in a slightly different way.
****
"You wan' Remy to do *what*?" The Cajun shouted, throwing his arms up in disgust and pacing in front of the professor's desk.
"I understand your reluctance to do this, but I would not ask you if it wasn't important, Gambit." The professor reasoned.
"Why don' you ask de udders to do dis? Why you pick Gambit?"
The professor took a deep breath and clasped his hands in front of him, on the desk.
"Your success in the previous mission, and your past experiences make you a perfect choice." Charles thought back to the mission in question. It had been a few months ago, the owner of a gay strip club was said to be running an underground abduction ring for mutants. ~Clearing the scum from our streets~. Charles sighed. It was so hard not to constantly ask "Why?" in his job. He'd needed two people to pose as two of the club's new strippers, but was having trouble working out who would be best until one morning Remy had appeared quietly in his office and said he would do it, but only if it was just him, Charles had disagreed saying none of them really knew what to do and having a partner would make it easier.
Remy had convinced him he did know exactly what to do, revealing to Charles that he'd done some stripping in the past. That was all the young Cajun had mentioned on the subject, but it was more than Remy usually unveiled about his shadowed life before the X-Men. The mission had been a huge success, the man was now in prison, the club shut down and apparently, though he was not there to see it himself, Remy's moves were very... dexterous.
"Hey, dat not fair! Dere be a big difference to being a stripper, and bein' a prostitute, homme. And as to my past experiences, dat should be a real big reason why Remy don' got to do it!"
'An' all you t'ink my past experiences are is strippin'!'
"Remy, I didn't mean it that way." The professor watched as his waste paper bin was kicked across his office, leaving a trail of it contents across the carpet.
"Non, you meant to say dat as I sold myself in de past by strippin', why 'ave I got such a problem wid it now." He kicked the bin a second time, "When you're cold an' starving, wid nowhere to go, you can be sure dat you 'ad no choice. I 'ave a choice now and I would never go back to dat lifestyle!"
Charles grew puzzled. 'Go back? Doesn't he realise I'm asking him to do something different from stripping?'
Charles held a hand out to his student. "I do not like having to ask this of you, Remy, but humans and mutants are disappearing for months before turning up dead, and the authorities are taking no action. We need to act now, and I am asking that you help."
Remy stood there looking at him, arms crossed over his chest. His red eyes blazed in anger, but some other emotion lurked in their depths too. "An Remy tellin' you? non."
"I know that your experiences were not something you want to repeat, but you won't have to sell yourself to anyone. Just look and act the part." Charles implored him.
"Anyone can spread dere legs, homme. Give me one good reason dat I like, an' dat *might* change my mind."
"Coz I'm ya pimp, and you're gonna do what I God damn well tell ya." Remy turned sharply to see Logan enter. He held a cigar between his teeth, can of beer in the other hand and an animalistic grin on his face. For a second time Remy threw his hands up in the air and continued pacing. "Don't worry about the Cajun, Chuck. I'll have a talk with him."
"Very well, Logan, I leave this in your very capable hands." The professor quickly left the room.
Logan grabbed Gambit's arm and pushed him into a chair. He pushed Remy's knees apart with his own, and leaned forward to put his hands either side of Gambit's head, on the back of the chair.
"Look here, swamp rat, people are dyin'. You can help 'em." He took the cigar from his mouth and kissed Gambit hard and forceful. Remy returned the kiss with equal passion. "I love ya, kid, and I certainly wouldn't let anyone but our target touch ya. You're mine remember." Remy opened his mouth to argue back, but Logan just put his hand over Remy's mouth. "I think it's real sweet that ya don' wan' to do this because of me, but this is work. I know that ya ain't a whore, and never will be. But as I said, darlin'? People are dyin' and we gotta help 'em."
Remy shook his head. He was glad that Logan had no idea of his real reasons for not wanting to be a prostitute. It was something he never wanted anyone to know. The Cajun smiled sadly, stroking Logan's arms.
"I'll be there to protect ya, so don't panic." Logan tilted Remy's head up to look at him, studying his face and searching his eyes. Remy wasn't faking his real conflict inside over this request.
"You even know 'ow a pimp is supposed to protect, cher?"
"Yeah, and I'm guessing you do too, so ya know it ain't gonna be all fun. Just remember it's an act, and I do love ya."
"I know." Remy breathed in deeply, gathering a strength from the gesture. He leaned forward and held his cheek against Logan's, closing his eyes so he had just the wonderful feel of Logan's skin and bristles. "You really wan' Remy to do dis?"
"No. I don't want ya to do this, but we have to."
Remy put his arms round Logan's waist and buried his face in his stomach. "If I 'ave you to protect me, den I guess I don' 'ave to worry, non?" Logan stroked the top of the Cajun's head.
"We'll do real fine kid."
******************************************
Logan fought the urge to wrap his arms around Remy and offer him his warmth. It was their first night on the mission, all alone, and already he was finding it hard to be the tough, uncaring, callous pimp. The Cajun had been forced to wear the usual skimpy clothes of a prostitute to look the part and was feeling the New York night cold chill viciously. He stood shivering next to Logan, trying to think of a way to make the mission successful. Logan was too. He came up with an idea, but didn't really like it.
"We're gonna have ta fight." Remy looked up at him, confusion written over his face, "To bring attention to us."
Gambit nodded, understanding what Logan meant. He was still surprised however when Logan grabbed him by the collar and held him up against a wall. The surprise quickly melted into a look that was utterly indignant.
"Ya stupid whore!" Logan shouted, causing the bustle of other noise around the pair to die down a little, "Ya think you can make yer money without me??"
Getting into the spirit Remy roughly shook Logan's hands off, staring him in the face.
"Damn right I could! I don' need not'ing of your games!"
Remy saw the punch coming, Logan made sure he did, but Remy could do nothing to stop it. It impacted on his cheekbone, and hurt, but it wasn't hard enough to fracture anything. Remy reminded himself that this was Logan, and he'd do nothing to really hurt him.
Wolverine grabbed Remy's wrists and held them to the wall, he pressed the tips of his fingers into the soft flesh of the Cajun's inner wrists, hoping it wasn't too hard. He was much nearer to Remy now, but still yelled.
"If ya didn't have me, all the john's here'd be fucking your pretty little ass, without payin'!" Remy knew he'd blushed, but the dark shadows of the alleyway hid it well.
Logan moved in closer to his body, in a way that would look immensely threatening to someone watching. He put his mouth next to Remy's ear and growled in a low tone, still in hearing range of the people nearest to them. "I own ya."
******************************************
Remy stepped out of the bathroom wearing jeans which accentuated his small firm backside and a close fitting top. His long hair had been pulled back into a loose ponytail, and he'd pulled a few wisps of hair over the sides of his face. Logan could smell the mixture of cologne and soap from over the other side of the room and he almost couldn't keep himself from jumping on the Cajun right there and then. He watched Remy put on his silver bangles and noticed the five circular bruises on his wrist from their public show the night before. Remy turned to look at him and smiled before walking over to hug him. Wolverine gratefully closed his arms around the Cajun, returning the comfort they could only give each other in private now. He noticed that Remy had tried to cover the bruise on his cheek, but it was still vaguely noticeable. "Sorry about last night, Cajun."
"Don' be silly, mon ami. I enjoyed de argument just as much as you, non?"
Logan reached up to stroke the young man's face. "I didn't mean ta bruise ya, I just don't know my own strength sometimes."
"Believe me, Cher, I've 'ad a lot worse dan dis. You worry too much." Logan shrugged.
"Not from me." Remy kissed Logan on the mouth.
"Je t'aime always." He picked up his coat and walked out of the room, leaving Logan to his melancholy.
Remy reached his spot a short while later, and lit himself a cigarette. Taking a few deep drags, he kicked a small stone down the street. He hated being here. He hated Logan having to hurt him, and he hated having to flirt with the dregs of the city. He also hated that they'd had to fight the night before. But the people around these streets were gossips and if Remy wanted to get the targets attention, then they had to make it good. Remy stroked the bruise on his face. It hurt like mad, but he didn't want Logan to feel any worse than he already did. It was sweet the way Logan worried. The things that had been said had been hurtful and the way Logan had looked at him had torn him apart. But a job was a job. People were dying and he was worrying about hurtful words. 'Get a grip on yourself, Remy, t'ink about de bigger picture.'
Footsteps coming round the corner pulled him from his reverie, and spurred him into character. The man coming towards him was huge, stocky and very muscular.
"Bonjour monsieur, you be wanting a date tonight, non?" He smiled seductively, whilst running a hand down his stomach and just inside the waist band of his jeans. The man's eyes followed the path of Remy's hand hungrily and he reached out and grabbed Remy around the waist pulling him tight towards his body. Remy struggled slightly.
"Hey, dis ain't no free f' all. You want de goods, you need to show de greens." The man pulled out a handful of bills, totalling about four hundred dollars.
"This enough?" His voice was strong, like his grip and his green eyes burned almost as brightly as Remy's.
"I t'ink so." The Cajun pocketed the cash and let the man nibble and bite his neck, whilst he pushed Remy back against the wall.
"Don' you wanna go somewhere a little more private, mon ami?"
"No here is just fine." He ran his hands underneath the Cajun's top, feeling his small nipples, rubbing and squeezing them until they hardened under his attention, making Remy squirm and gasp and curse his sensitivity. He pinned Gambit's wrists together above his head, with one of his large hands, whilst running his other hand down between Remy's legs. His lips kissed tenderly over his neck and shoulder and then suckled a bit, causing blood to rush to the surface of the Cajun's salty sweet skin. Remy could feel the man's erection growing and quickly hardening in his trousers as the man pressed his groin to Remy's thigh and Remy the familiar stirrings of his own.
The stranger released Remy's wrists and pushed him down to one knee, motioning for him to unbutton his fly. The young mutant pulled out the man's large member and started to lick and suck it. It was huge, bigger than anything Remy had ever seen, aside from Logan's. He licked up and down the man's thick shaft and felt the john grab onto his hair. He hoped that this was all the man wanted. Memories of past experiences threatened to take over his senses. Angrily pushing them away, he wrapped a hand around the base of the shaft, whilst massaging the man's balls with his other hand. Then he brought his mouth over the tip of the guy's cock, swirling over the head and tasting the leaking pre-cum. The stranger's hips thrust in time with Remy, as he ran his hands through the Cajun's ponytail. Remy could feel the man's resolve quickly vanishing and started to double his efforts, in order to get this over and done with. But then the man pulled him back to his feet, and roughly turned him to face the wall.
Remy fought to not panic and contemplated backing out, but the man began biting and kissing his neck again, sending unwanted jolts of pleasure down his back. Remy's jeans were quickly pulled down his legs, and the stranger wrapped one arm round his waist, the other stroking Remy's shaft. Remy gasped as the man stroked and pulled on his erection, his thumb running over the tip, spreading pre-cum down his length. Then the man drew his body even nearer and Remy's back arched against the stranger and his head fell upon the broad shoulder as, in one swift motion, the man entered him. His whole body stiffened, as he suppressed a scream. The agony mixed with pleasure, shot through him like lightning, it almost felt as if he was being torn in two. His legs almost buckled beneath him, but the man quickly wedged a knee between them, so that that, and the supporting arm round his waist was all that kept him standing. Shudders rocketed through Remy's body and he cried out slightly. The stranger moaned and whispered something in Remy's ear with a gravely voice.
"You're so fucking beautiful." he thought it was.
The man laughed cruelly in his ear as he thrust, not caring that he hadn't prepared the Cajun first. Enjoying the way the body in front of him stiffened. He tried pulling almost out and then pushing in fast and hard, to be rewarded with an agonized gasp. He then tried pulling out slowly, re-entering slowly, to hear a soft moan. He could feel the muscles clamping around him and drawing him in. He grabbed the ponytail and wrenched his prey's head back even further, biting hard on his now curved neck over the fast beating of Remy's pulse, almost drawing blood.
"Non, stop." Remy tried to pull the man's arm off, but was rewarded with a hard brutal thrust, shooting even more agony through his body. He stopped fighting and resigned to letting the man finish. His insides felt like they were being mashed. More thrusts caused him to whimper, as they varied in intensity, almost as if the john was playing with him. The man pulled them both away from the wall, so he could push the Cajun forward, so that he was bent over. Then he could plunge deeper, harder and faster. The body beneath him was trembling and the cries were lessening. As suddenly as he had started, the stranger finished; he thrust in one last time and then shot his load into the Cajun's tight, hot channel. Pulling out and releasing the body, the young man collapsed to the floor. Remy felt the man kneel down, pat his head and run a thumb lightly over his lower lip, before zipping his now flaccid penis back in his pants and walking away.
The Cajun pulled his clothes back into place and got shakily to his knees; he leant fully against the wall, only now letting one or two tears fall. He swallowed with difficulty and wiped them away quickly, angry at himself and the guy who'd just fucked him so indifferently. He wandered back to the flat, slightly awkwardly for him, and there was no way he would be able to continue tonight. He had recognized the man as being an associate of their target. He contemplated calling Logan, but decided to shower and clean himself up first.