Fandom: X-Men
Pairing: Gambit/?
Rating: NC-17 for graphic m/m sex
Status: New, complete
Series/Sequel: Nope, just your garden variety PWP.
Archive: Sure, just tell me where the first time.
Feedback: Hell yes! :)
E-mail address for feedback: oatangel@aol.com,
orithain67@sympatico.ca
Other websites: http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/
http://www.angelfire.com/de3/infinitum
http://www.squidge.org/terma/
Disclaimers: They belong to Marvel Comics, but don't you
think they'd be much happier with us?
Summary: A Christmas PWP - A secret admirer treats Gambit
to a special Twelve Days of Christmas
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The Twelve Days of Christmas
By Angel and Orithain
December 2001
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey, Wolvie, wait up!" Jubilee Lee came barreling out of
the front door of Xavier's School for Gifted Children,
snapping her gum and pulling on her jacket. "I wanna go into
town too, got some shoppin' to do, and this mall baby is
missing her home turf!"
"Sorry, darlin', but this is a solo shoppin' spree. Stormy
and the girls are heading to the mall this afternoon. I'm
headin' to another part o' town. Wanna look at some bike
parts and get a brew or somethin'," Logan replied as he
pulled his cowboy hat lower over his brow and hopped into
his jeep. "I promise t'take ya shopping next weekend tho',
okay?"
Jubilee's eyes narrowed as she watched the jeep peel out of
the driveway, hell bent for leather. "Ain't no way a
carburetor is gonna get your guns off like that, Mr. Full-
of-horse-pucky Logan. Wonder what her name is?" the teenager
sighed as she chomped on her gum and went back inside. So
much for a day out with her Wolvie, she thought glumly. Ah
well, there was always next week.
***
Logan popped in a CD and gunned the engine, leaving Salem
Center and Westchester, New York far behind. He had his own
brand of shopping to do, and he knew just the area to do it
in. However, for the sort of spree he had in mind, he had to
be in Manhattan, and there was no way he was draggin' the
kid to that area of town. If Charlie and the others didn't
skin him, well, there was no way he'd do it, no way and no
how. He'd helped raise too many young women not to know any
better.
Which reminded him, he needed to pick up somethin' for Kitty
too, it bein' the last day of Hanukah and all. His little
punkin' had grown up just like he thought she would. A real
lady, and one who could kick serious ass when she needed to.
He'd done all right by her for sure. But that would be on
his way back through Westchester, in a nice little store
along a nice little street, or maybe even in Manhattan along
5th Avenue. He could even stop at FAO and get something for
Jubilee to get her out of her pout. And then he had some
wrappin' to do.
***
Heavy-eyed and in desperate need of his first cup of coffee
of the day, Gambit strolled into the dining room of the
mansion, wrapped in a silk robe and trailing smoke behind
him. He woke quickly when he spotted a gaily-wrapped package
at his usual place at the table, and forsaking his quest for
caffeine, he headed straight for the mysterious box.
~To Remy on the First Day of Christmas~
"Someone playin' wit' dis Cajun," he muttered even as a
pleased smile quirked his lips.
Sitting down, he ripped the paper off, absently noting that
someone had taken a bit of time and effort to wrap it as
perfectly as any professional gift-wrapper in paper showing
- what else? - a partridge in a pear tree. When he removed
the top of the gold foil box, his eyes widened, and he
slammed it closed again, looking around furtively to see if
any of the younger X-men were nearby.
A cock ring! Someone had given him a cock ring!
Remy felt his body respond slightly to the idea behind the
gift, and he bit back a soft moan. Whoever it was certainly
had his attention!
Logan sauntered out of the kitchen wearing a pair of cut-off
denims and a pair of sneakers. He was one of the few X-Men,
the others being Stormy and Iceman, who didn't get cold
easily. Storm had her own internal thermometer thanks to
her weather-witch abilities, and Bobby, well, when he used
his mutant ability, he turned into a human popsicle.
Logan just didn't feel the cold as intensely as everyone
else, and he often wandered around in the dead of winter
wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, even to go outside.
Something to do with his mutant healing factor, he was sure.
Hell, he slept naked every day of the year 'cause he got too
hot otherwise, so it always amused him to see other folk,
like the Cajun, chattering their teeth and turnin' blue.
However, this morning the Cajun was a rather fiery shade of
red.
Eyeing the young man he'd taken to defending and partnering
up with more times than not, Wolverine smiled a rather feral
smile. "Somethin' interestin' in that box, Gumbo? It's
got
ya lookin' as red as yer eyes. It's gotta be worth a
looksee then," he continued as he made a grab for the
ornately wrapped present.
Emitting a snarl worthy of Wolverine at his most feral, Remy
snatched the box back out of reach, clutching it to his
chest. "It's for Remy, not a nosy Wolverine," he snapped,
rising from his chair to make his escape. Coffee would have
to wait. This had to be put away before anyone else got too
curious for Remy's own good.
"Fuck, what bit your butt this mornin', Gumbo?" Logan
retorted, at the verbal attack. "Sheesh, I was just playin'
with ya. Like I'd ever invade another person's privacy!"
Offended, the Canadian stood up and stalked out of the room,
muttering under his breath about rude-mannered Cajuns and
that he was spending the day down in the Blackbird's hanger,
overhauling its engine if anyone cared.
"Logan! Ah _merde_," Remy said feelingly. He would have to
make it up to Logan later; he hadn't meant to be rude, but
he didn't want to share this.
Glancing down at the box clutched to his chest, Gambit
started to smile again. He could hardly wait till the next
day to find out if there would be another gift... and maybe
a clue to who sent it.
First though, he had to get dressed, get some coffee and go
apologize to a cranky man with claws. Maybe two cups of
coffee.
***
Logan looked up from where he was sitting at the table the
next morning, in Remy's spot. Tossing the package up in the
air one more time, he gave Gambit a toothy grin. "Looks
like ya got an admirer in th' house, Cajun. Present number
two, complete with turtledoves on th' paper. An' it rattles
when it's tossed. Wonder what it could be."
This time fully dressed and in the dining room at an
unprecedented early hour for him, Remy stood uneasily
shifting from one foot to the other. He desperately wanted
that package, wanted to know what was in it and if the giver
had signed her name this time, but it didn't look like Logan
was going to hand it over any time soon.
"If anyone likes this Cajun, it be news to Remy," he
replied. "Just someone gettin' into the Christmas spirit,
cher." He moved a little closer, hoping to be able to get
the small box away without facing adamantium claws.
"Yeah? Seems ta' me you're the only one gettin' any.
Christmas spirit, that is," Logan replied, standing up and
tossing the box to the younger man in one smooth motion.
"Later, this kid stuff is way too saccharine for me. Think
I'll talk to Charlie about headin' up north for a while.
Hate this time of year, way too... _nice_."
Heading out of the dining room towards Charles Xavier's
study, Logan permitted himself one brief smile.
***
Not about to repeat yesterday's fiasco, Remy headed back to
his room to open the package in private. Practically running
upstairs, he ignored the startled expressions on various
faces when the other X-men saw him up and about at this
hour, not stopping until he was safely inside his room with
the door locked.
He sat down on the bed and shook the package near his ear.
Logan was right; it _did_ rattle. Unable to bear the
suspense any longer, he tore the wrappings off and opened
the box.
This time he whimpered.
~On the second day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Two nipple clamps
And a cock ring.~
The verse might not scan right, and he didn't actually have
another cock ring, but the sender's message was coming
through loud and clear. Remy could hardly wait to find out
who was behind this.
***
Logan sat in front of the security console in the heart of
the underground and 'other' section of Xavier's school for
gifted students, read mutants, a bottle of Molson Canadian
cradled in one of his hands, and fiddled with the controls
and various and sundry screens until he found what he was
looking for.
The lower levels belonged to the Mutant 'superhero' team
known as the X-Men, a team he belonged to, and housed all
their equipment, toys, weapons, training facilities, medical
bays, laboratories and, most importantly, Cerebro, the
central brain of the facility, which only Charles Xavier and
Jean Grey could use. A machine that augmented telepathic
abilities and allowed the X-men a window to the world and a
way to be alerted to potential problems. Problems such as
the one that had arisen in the early hours of the morning
and had sent half of the X-Men hurtling out of their beds,
ready for action.
It was now well past midnight, and all the kiddies were
sound asleep. Gold Team had just gotten back half an hour
ago. He'd been grounded from this mission because Magneto
had been spotted at the target zone, and everyone knew what
the Master of Magnetism could do to his adamantium bones.
Instead he'd spent the day sparring in the Danger Room and
tinkering with his jeep. Curiosity, however, had pulled him
down to the monitoring room an hour ago, and he'd waited for
the team to return, wanting to see what had happened and
what the general mood was. Boy, did he get an eyeful. Now
for the payoff. Putting his motorcycle boot-clad feet up
and leaning back, the oft times feral mutant relaxed back in
the chair to watch the show via live feed.
Remy headed straight for his room when the team returned to
the mansion, his foul mood of the entire day charging the
air around him and making everyone keep their distance. He
couldn't believe how much it had bothered him when he hadn't
received an anonymous gift that morning, but it seemed his
secret admirer had had enough of the joke.
Snarling, Gambit slammed and locked the door behind himself,
flicking a charged card at a small table in one corner. When
the dust and splinters cleared, he glared at the spot.
"Didn't like dat ole table nohow."
His fine features set in a pout, though he would deny it to
his dying day, the Cajun started toward his bed and stopped
dead. Sitting there, right in the center of the king-size
bed, was another package, again wrapped in paper reflecting
the appropriate day.
"Someone teasin' dis Cajun!" he grumbled. Still, the gift
_was_ there, and it would be a shame not to open it...
Pouncing, he ripped the paper off and opened the boxes, a
wide smile splitting his face at the contents. Inside,
nestled on their bed of festive tissue paper, were seven
collars, ranging from a narrow leather one that could pass
for a necklace to a wide band with spikes, a tag - blank! -
and a D-ring for the leash that also lay in the box.
Grinning wickedly, Remy started to sing:
"On the seventh day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
7 leather collars
6 cans of honey dust
5 velvet floggers
4 sets of handcuffs
3 French ticklers
2 nipple clamps
And a cock ring."
Laughing, he sprawled on the bed with a box he pulled out of
the nightstand drawer, examining the contents, which
included all the previous gifts.
"Dis just keeps gettin' more interestin' every day."
Changing the monitor back to its original setting, Logan
switched it off and stood up, only to run into Scott Summers
as he entered the room.
"Something I can help you with, Wolverine?" Scott asked,
eyebrow arching behind the ruby quartz glasses and his voice
deceptively sweet. They were oil and a match, he and
Summers, and while they had settled most of their
differences long ago, there was still one major one.
Summers thought Logan was still panting after his wife, Jean
Grey Summers.
"Just makin' sure ya got in all right, Cyke, and checking
out the damage I'm gonna have to repair," Logan replied
congenially as he sidled past the team leader and sauntered
down the hall, whistling a tune as he went.
Scott shook his head and took a seat at the monitor, wanting
to run through his nightly routine of making sure the house
was locked down and the perimeter armed, the tune Logan had
been whistling playing over and over in his head, somehow
familiar.
//It's The Twelve Days of Christmas, Scott. Now come to
bed,// Jean admonished softly.
***
On the tenth day of Christmas, after adding edible body
paint and nine rather large vibrators to his collection,
Remy returned to his room after breakfast to find another
box waiting for him on his bed. Not bothering to lock the
door in his haste to get at it, he sat cross-legged beside
the package and ripped it open.
Seeing the contents, his eyes widened and his body hardened.
A string of ten anal beads. He picked them up, measuring the
diameter of the balls with his fingers, and a tiny, hungry
whimper escaped him. Taken all together, the gifts seemed to
add up to a man, and Remy hoped he was right and that they
meant what he thought they did.
"Hey, Gumbo, was wondering if you wanted t'work up a sweat
in the Danger... What the fuck are those?" Logan asked, eyes
wide as he took in the red and green balls linked together
by a leather cord. "Y'know, on second thought I really
don't wanna know. I think... I think I'm gonna go into town
and grab a brew or somethin', see ya!"
Turning a bright scarlet, Remy appeared about to combust
from pure embarrassment. "Dieu! Dat man had d'worst timin'
this Cajun ever saw!" Getting away from the mansion sounded
like a very good idea to him just then, and he just hoped
Logan didn't tell anyone about what he'd seen. He'd let Cyke
know how to reach him if necessary and get away till
morning; he had to be back to see the next gift. He smiled.
***
It had been a long-standing tradition in the X-Mansion that
the adults opened their presents on Christmas Eve and let
those teenagers who spent the holidays at the school, the
orphans, the runaways, and those who, upon finding out they
were mutants, found themselves without a family, open their
presents in the morning. It had been a way to give everyone
a sense of normalcy and being part of a real family.
The rec room was littered with paper, and the X-Men were
surrounded by their presents and good cheer. It was one of
those rare things in their world, a peaceful night, as if
the mutants of the world both good and bad had declared an
old-fashioned armistice for a night of joy.
Logan had his arm wrapped around Kitty Pryde, the first X-
teen he'd helped mold into womanhood and was laughing as
Nightcrawler 'bamfed' from woman to woman with a ball of
mistletoe in his hand, stealing kisses where he could. Jean
was curled in Scott's lap talking to the professor, and
Peter Rasputin, Colossus, was busily sketching the couple.
Over in another corner Storm and Rogue were comparing their
outfits, and Bobby Drake, Iceman, and Cannonball, or Sam
Gutherie, had teamed up to tackle Hank McCoy, aka Beast.
The only one who seemed a little off tonight was Remy.
"Hey, Gumbo, thanks for the shirts, how'd ya know plaid was
my favorite color?" he teased good-naturedly, his eyes
dancing with humor and something indefinable.
Disappointed that the long-awaited twelfth gift hadn't been
delivered yet, Remy still put a good face on the day. It
wasn't the first time that his mysterious admirer had waited
till late to present the gift, so he might yet find out who
was behind the romantic campaign. And hopefully put the
previous day's gift of flavored lubricants to good use!
"Not too hard, Wolvie, since dat's about all you ever wear,"
Remy smiled. "And t'anks for the cards, nice to see some I
won't be t'rowin' at folks." He stood up gracefully.
"And it's past dis Cajun's bedtime, so g'night and merry
christmas!"
***
[continued in part 2}
--
Orithain
~*~*~*~*~*~
It is not necessary to change. Survival is not mandatory.
http://denofsin.slashcity.tv
http://www.angelfire.com/de3/infinitum
http://www.squidge.org/terma/orithain/orithain.htm