A bet between friends

Part 4

Remy descended the small flight of steps down to the restaurant, Logan trailing behind. Inside he smiled at the guy clearing the tables. “Bonjour Jacque, 'ow’s business, eh?”

“Hey dere Remy! It's been good dis week. We ‘ad a very fine delivery and de people, dey seem to know it wid out bein’ tol’. From de look of you, I’d say you be wantin’ a private table tonite’.” He glanced at Logan. “In all respect, I ‘ope you ain’t got dat woman wid you. I’ve lost enough crockery. It’s made for eating off, not throwin'. And talkin' of eatin'…” He eyed Remy closely. “… you actually going to eat my food dis time? Or do you t'ink you’re too good for crayfish prepared by the likes of me, eh?”

Remy grinned and started moving towards a partitioned area at the back of the restaurant. “You cook, cos you love it, so don’t go givin' me no sob stories. ‘sides it’s no' my fault you overload de plates.” Remy crouched to dodge the teatowel that was thrown at him. “I can see why she throws de plates LeBeau.” Jacque picked up the tray of dirty dishes and headed for the kitchen, muttering. "Remy de beautiful?" He snorted derisively. "More like Remy de wisecracking, smart arse, pain in de butt!”

Logan grinned to himself and made his way to the table the Cajun had chosen. Hidden within the dark shadows, at the back of the establishment. Logan sat down in the seat opposite Remy and watched as the Cajun removed his shades and jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair, revealing the fact that while his silk shirt covered him from throat to wrist, it was translucent. Remy down at him, catching him staring and smiled. “You okay, cher?”

“Yup, just fine. You eat here often?”

“Once or twice, dis better for you?”

“It’s fine.”

“You always dis talkative on dates, Cher. No wonder you do so well wid de ladies.”

Logan scowled at him and bit back the comment that rose, as Jacque came to their table with a couple of menus.

Remy waved the offered menu away. "You know what I like homme. Crayfish and a vintage French Bordeaux," He smiled at Logan.

"I always did like a good Bordeaux." Logan snorted, glancing at the menu and almost sighed in relief to see it was written in English. Never could get ta grips with the damn language. He ordered the only meat they appeared to have on the menu, T-bone steak and a brewskie. “All de dishes on dat menu and you pick de only non-Cajun one. You tryin' to tell me somet'ing…”

"I think there's enough Cajun at this table. I don't see the need ta add more." Logan chuckled. The Acadian leaned forward, elbows on the table and rested his face on his hands, tilting his head and watching Logan. “…Hmmm?”

Logan breathed in heavily and moved his gaze down to his boots. “Knock it off, Cajun.”

“Its Remy, remember and knock what off?” He slowly ran his tongue over his lips, Logan followed the slow movement of his tongue, watching it disappear back into the Cajun’s soft, inviting, just right for… Soft! Inviting! What the fuck am I thinking about? The only thing I wanna put in Gumbo’s mouth half the time, is my goddamned fist. He couldn’t stop the unconscious thought from entering his head, hard as he tried. Bet that mouth of his would feel real good wrapped around my cock, my hand tangled in that silk he calls hair, holding him there, making him take the whole length, moving faster and deeper, watching his throat work as I came, making sure he didn’t spill a drop… He snapped back to reality as a napkin smacked him full in the face and refocused on a vaguely miffed Cajun. “Allo, Logan! I’ve been talkin' to you for de last five minutes; nice to know my conversations so stimulating you can just nod off." Temper quietened to concern. "You sure you’re all right? You’re looking kinda warm again. De drinks arrived while you were off enjoying private thoughts?” Remy raised his eyebrow, glanced at Logan’s lap and grinned wickedly. "You wan' Remy to leave you an' your naughty thought alone for awhile?"

Logan coughed slightly and threw the napkin back at him. The denim trousers were beginning to cut the circulation off to his legs. Or maybe it wasn't the trousers that were shrinking. He followed Remy’s line of vision, to a huge bulge that had crept up on him. He reacted quickly, pulling his chair closer to the table and scooting forward on the seat. Remy chuckled. "Didn't realise you already packed your lunch. Is it dinner for two or just one?"

"Cajun…" Logan growled.

"Oui?" Remy positively purred in response.

"Bite me." Logan was not happy. These trousers were getting way too tight.

"Maybe later Cher, but only if you promise to bite back." Logan shook his head. tonight was going to a long night.

The food arrived, Logan devoured his steak, Remy picked at his plate, eating very little. More brewskies were ordered and drunk, the Cajun occasionally sipped a little from his glass. Logan knew he was drinking too much, but it was helping him combat the way his body reacted to the Cajun's presence. The conversation had gone completely down hill since the whole hard on incident and everything Logan said seemed to offer the Cajun an opportunity to turn it into something dirty...

The restaurant filled and then slowly emptied around them and pretty soon Jacque was out washing down tables, while his wife Margarette swept the floor.

“I t’ink we had better be leavin, Cher.”

“Sure”. Logan pulled himself unsteadily to his feet, catching his thigh against the table and stumbling forward. Remy reached out and grabbed him to stop his momentum dragging him down to the floor. “I t’ink you had a little too much to drink. Not sure if you going to be able to ride the bike like this.” He snagged his jacket off the back of his chair and slipped it on. He pulled Logan’s arm over his shoulders and started manovering him around the tables to the door. He stopped at the cash register. “You got the money for dinner, Cher?” Logan reached down and started fumbling around in his pocket for his cash. “Need help? I know I said I wanted to get into your pant’s Cher, but I had envisioned it being slightly more exciting.” Remy batted Logan’s hand aside and shoved his hand extracted the bills with no problems.

He handed the money to Jacque and pulled Logan towards the door. “Merci Jacque, gorgeous as always. See you next time non?.”

“Next time, I’m gonna cook you a kiddies portion.”

“Don’ be like dat. Your food is just too good to just shove down your throat. It needs to be savoured. ‘sides you know I’m just tryin’ to get rid of dese love handles non?” Remy teased, “There’re not love handles Cajun. There what we normal people call hips.” Logan added. Swaying towards the door. He was just having trouble in deciding which one to take. He could have sworn there was only the one door when he entered, and now all three of them were moving. Jacque laughed. “If it’s that good, why you keep letting it go to waste eh? At least your friend seems to ‘ppreciate my cooking.” Jacque called after him.

Remy pulled Logan up the steps to the street, catching him as he stumbled on the top step. Logan was swaying alarmingly and there was no way he was going to be able to sit on the bike without falling off. “We goin’ to have to find a place to stay de night Cher, you aren’t in any condition to be drivin’ home.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“You may be fine, you have healing factor, a little tumble off the bike is not going to do you any real damage. But I don’t have healing factor Cherie and I don’t really feel like dying tonight, so we get a place to sleep, I know a little motel we can stay in a few blocks from here.”

Remy dragged Logan the few streets to the motel, leaning him against the wall as he went to the desk to get a room.

“Hey Remy, how’s it going?”

“Just fine, t’ank you Stevie. You got a room?”

“For you always, is your friend okay, he looks kinda out of it.”

“He had a little to much to drink, but he’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but make sure he don’t puke on the carpet. Room 19, enjoy yourself.”

“Don’t I always”

“Yeah you do. Oh and Remy…”

“Oui?”

“Not your usual type?”

“Non, but variety is de spice of life non?”

“Have you ever heard that you’re spicy enough.” He hinted.

“Aww t’anks. Maybe I’ll take you out next time eh?” The guy chuckled and sat back down with his paper. “You’ve been promising me that for month’s Remy.” The Cajun chuckled and carried Logan up the hall.

Gambit managed to get his date in the elevator, and halfway into the room, before watching him pass out. Frowning, he dragged Logan by his legs to the bed and then pulled him onto it. He leaned back against the TV, breathing heavily. “Merde, your heavy. Remind me to be on top, if you ever bunk with me, eh? Either dat, or pick a very soft bed.”

He pulled Logan further up the bed and started to remove his clothes. He hung Logan’s jacket across the back of the armchair along with his shirt and placed his boots beside it. Then he turned his attention to Logan’s jeans. Unbuckling the belt and undoing the buttons, he pulled them off and folded them. They too were added to the back of the chair. “Always figured you for the type to go commando petit’, Pleased to know I was not wrong.” He paused to admire the form before him for a few moments, running his eyes over the broad shoulders and chest, the tapered hips and the muscular legs, before moving his gaze back up to the caveman brow, and ever so manly drool from the corner of Logan’s mouth. “Also, remin’ me, not to sleep on dat side of you.”

Remy took advantage of the en-suite bathroom, by taking a shower. Letting the warm water relax the muscles tensed when pulling wolverine around.

He wandered back into the bedroom; he wrestled the covers from underneath Logan, making him moan and roll to his side.

Remy covered him with the quilt and climbed in beside him, pushing himself back against Logan's warm body.

Oh dis feels nice. And his eyelids began to droop and sleep overtook him.

TBC