Warning this story contains m/m sex (namely Remy + Logan. Such a cute couple), violence, NCS and just
general naughtiness. Please do not read
if you are under age. Do not own, if I
did… oh my stars and garters, what joy!!!!!
A Bet Between Friends
By Claire Hannaford
Part one
Logan moaned and winced as the sound of knocking finally reached through
the alcohol induced fog that was all that remained from last night’s poker
game.
“One too many brewskies” he muttered, trying to recall exactly how many
he had consumed before he had admitted defeat to the Cajun and stumbled to bed,
or at least he assumed he had stumbled to bed. That part of his memory was out
on a break with no sign of coming back, until he had at least three cups of strong coffee.
“Alright” He growled, pulling his protesting body from the bed. Grabbing his jeans from where they lay
folded on the chair by the bed, and pulled them on as he headed for the door. He paused just as he was reaching for the
handle.
Folded. He thought I know I was in no condition to be worryin’
about whether my damn jeans where folded, so someone must have come up with me,
but who….
Logan scowled as the knock came again.
He shook his head to clear it and reached for the handle. “Don’t get yer damn panties in a twist, bub!”
He said and grasping the handle, yanked the door open. “What the hell do ya want punk?” He growled
at the tall, lanky thief currently lounging against the doorframe with a cup
and grin. “Bonjour petit’” He sang.
His foot poised to kick the door again.
“If yer here ‘bout yer god damned money, I ain’t got it yet obviously,
so why don’t ya go let Rogue smack ya ‘bout for a bit and I’ll give it to yer
later.” Remy snorted. Seemed like everyone knew they were having a
difficult time at present. Logan
pleased with the result turned away and pushed the door to close it. Or at least he would have, if Remy hadn’t
stepped forward to place his hand on it.
“Remy in no rush for de money, mon ami” The Cajun smiled, pushing away
from the door frame and stepping into the room. Logan frowned and turned round,
closing the space between them. “I
ain’t in the mood for pleasantries punk, so why don’t yer just say what ya want
and get the hell out”
“Remy t’ink you had a little too much to drink last night, non?” The thief laughed down at the shorter man
and was rewarded with a snarl. “Ok, so
you not de morning after person” Remy
chuckled and offered the cup to him.
“T’ought you might need dis.
Triple strength?”
“Thanks.” Logan growled, snatching the cup and heading for the
bed. “Tell me summit Cajun, are ya
always this annoyingly happy in the mornin’?”
Remy glanced up from the book shelf he was looking at and positively
beamed. "Only when I'm talking' to
you cher." He flirted. "Remy has bad mornings too, Logan. Je suis desole, if you don’ like it. But Remy enjoy spreadin’ a littl’
‘appyness.”
“Yeah, right Cajun. Like yer didn’t
come in here just for that damn reason”.
“Actually Homme, Remy came in to check dat you were still breathin’ and
dat we were still on for tonight eh?”
Logan froze the coffee cup two inches away from his mouth. “Tonight?”
“Oui. Tonight.” Remy said, sauntering
across the room and with the grace of cat. He sat down next to Logan on the
bed, curling one leg beneath him. “Last
night when Remy dragged you back to your room, you asked Remy out to dinner and
he said oui. So, we still on?” Remy pouted.
“Unless you always in de ‘abit of asking good lookin’ hommes out to
dinner when dey undress you?” He
crossed his arms over his chest. “Me
personally, like to ask before, an get drunk an fall in bed after.” Logan frowned. Taking a large gulp of the luke warm coffee. He winced at the bitter taste and attempted
to get his memory working enough to remember what had happened last night. All he could remember was playing poker with
Bishop, Gambit and Beast, Bish and Beast both losing very badly and bombing out
early. Drinking large amounts of
alcohol and staying at the table to keep playing till late or was it early? He concentrated harder and vague memories of
someone helping him struggle to his room, a pair of faintly glowing eyes and
someone helping him undress. It was the
glowing eyes that convinced him that the Cajun wasn’t yanking his chain. He
groaned inwardly and draining the cup, turned to the problem at hand. “Yer still wanna go?”
“Oui, unless you don’ want to?”
Remy said timidly.
“I offered ya dinner Gumbo and you’ll get it.” Logan muttered, running his hands through
his ruffled hair. Pulling back his
shoulders and pushing out his chest in an attempt to stretch the kinks out of
his back. Remy smiled, appreciating the
play of muscles across the other man’s chest and shoulders. Remy
wonder what dat would be like from underneath? He shifted his leg from
underneath him and got to his feet. “What
time you wan’ Remy ready, eh?”
Logan stood up, adjusting his jeans and handed Remy the cup.
“Wash that, and will eight suit ya?”
“Oui, see you den homme.”
“Sure, pick ya up in the hall tonight.” He paused. “Thanks for
the coffee Gambit.” He turned away and
started to pull up the bed clothes. The
Cajun sighed. “D'accord. And Logan...” He turned from the bed to look at him. “It’s Remy, non?”
“Sure… Remy” Logan gave a brief frown as he began making the bed. It was weird calling him that. Remy grinned mischievously. “Maybe after tonight, you be callin’ me Rem
eh?” Logan just snorted.
“Yer got as much chance of me callin’ ya that, as yer have of me
callin’ ya darlin’.”
“Oh Remy, like dat much better.”
Remy cooed. Logan snorted and
rolled his eyes, as the swamp rat left the room. “I know this is just gonna end up with someone cryin’. He
muttered and headed off to shower.