HARD LOVE

Gambit's really scared, he's pissed off as well, but mostly he is
scared. He wants his rabid dog so much he can practically taste
fur, but *not* the way he has found out Wolverine wants him… no
that was wrong, he hates the way Logan thinks of him, always
calling him kid, kiddo, boy, son… "Ce maudit homme! Makes me
feel like a ten year old! An' a gauche one, en plus." was his most
often muttered comment every time his beloved talked to him. So
now he's here, scared shitless and mad as a spitting cat
outside Wolverine's door. He raises his hand to knock and
suddenly has a vision of himself scowling likle a thunderstorm
and trembling like a baby preparing for *the* tryst of his life. The
undomitable Remy explodes in laughter and Logan opens the
door just in time to see his demon child doubled up in laughter,
tears streaming from his eyes.
"Waht's so funny, kid?" he growls, disconcerted.
Remy straightens up with some difficulty, then, still faintly
gasping: "Moi, me. Remy. Tres funny. Want t' talk wit' you, Loge."
"DON'T call me Loge, ya swampbrat! NOBODY calls me Loge."
"Desolée, sorry, di'n't know was a bad hair day, Wolvie."
"NOR Wolvie or any other silly name you come up with, kiddo.
Call me Logan, that's my name."
All traces of laughter are wiped away from the younger man's
face and Logan suddenly relents, unable to resist his urge to
take him inside and fuck him silly. Covering that up, he says a bit
less gruffly: "What d'ya want?"
"C'n I come in?"
Wordlessly the older man steps aside and motions with his
hand.
"Merci. Remy has one thing to say, Log… an, mais tak' him
seriously this time, s'il te plait, hein?"
"Listen, kid, I take you seriously, you're the one who's always so
damn clever and witty. I ain't witty, ain't damn clever, ain't
frenchy-cajun, ain't a thief, ain't…"
"Oui, oui, yesyesyes, `m a pest, moi. Mais je t'aime… Merde!
Sorry." a deep breath, then dropping sillables like pebbles "I love
you Logan, I love you with heart body and soul, BUT…" this
hurriedly as Wolverine's strong arms suddenly envelope him
"NOT the way you want."
Logan takes one step back, startled. "What the fuck d'you mean,
kid? Never thought you'd be such a tease."
Heart beating like a hammer on an anvil Remy reaches out with
a somewhat trembling hand. "Non, not teasin' you, mon amour,
mais, tu… Nonono, English it is. English, Remy. You call me kid,
mais – but I'm not a kid. Never was a kid, Logan. The point is I
am a man. I want you yes, but like a man, not like a garçon… a
boy. I want to be inside you and I want you to be inside me…" he
can't not add "Var' good English, n'est pas?" but an
open-mouthed Logan does not react to that. "Wha…?" "I wan'
fuck you and I wan' you to fuck me. How do you say? Tit for tat.
Fair do. Man to man." Then, with a devilish grin "Mano a mano,
bouche a bouche, zob a zob… Let the best man win."
Logan's mouth drops even more, but, for once, Remy is silent.
After a while he closes it with a gulp and says very weakly
"What's a zob?"
Impishly Remy waggles his hips thrusting is bulge forward
"Can't you imagine?"
"'s not a sword" is the only thing he manages to say, then rallying
a little "Do you really mean what you're saying or are you just
mouthing off as usual? Do you *know* what you're saying? And
you look like a kid to me. Could be your father…" mutters.
Remy is serious again "Oui I know. I know what I am saying, I
know I look like a garçon, mais je-I am not a garçon. Seen too
much, done too much… Am older than you, mon gros chou, in
life an' lovin'. M'body is used up, moi je suis… merde… I am
tired of bein' wanted, of being… Oh mon Dieu but this is hard…
Regarde, moi je suis beau… pretty you would say, I know I like to
be, but am not a prey, not a hole to be filled… Moi je suis a
person, I want love from a man like me, beau… beautiful in his
own particulaire way, strong oui, many oui, mais je suis manly
too, not as strong as you, butnot weak. Y're a warrior. Bien, so
am I. You fight hard. Bien, so do I. You love hard, mon guerrier?
You love tender? Bein, so do I. Can you try for your Remy? Try to
let him be all these t'ings you are?" His hearts beats so hard
against his chest that Logan can almost see it, he can certainly
smell his fear and wanting mixed with the heady mixture that
alway screams Remy to his nose. But, boy, what he's asking is
scary!
"You scare me to death" he croacks, not realising he has already
conceded victory "I don't know what to say."
"Say yes" an almost breathless Remy answers wide eyed "and
put it to the touch."
Logan feels like he's drowning in a black flame filled volcano
and inhales the sweet hot breath coming from his love's mouth.
Without a word – words are suddenly useless – he turns and
locks the door, then turns again and waits.
Remy sags in relief and a searing flame of love for this man
makes him shiver "Tu es so corageous, I was so afraid you
would get angry at me, an' donne moi un coup de pied… kick me
off" he finishes miserably.
"I may kick you, Remy, but not off." Wolverine has recoverd
quickly and has started to enjoy the new sensations flooding
through him. The kid… `Mmmm must learn not to call him that'
the m… `Yes but he looks so damn young' yes well, the man has
spunk and a body he has wanted to devour since day one, why
not play his game, whatever that is?
"What do we do now?"
Remy looks speculatively at his man "Moi, I do not t'ink t'rowin' a
coin is t'right way t' decide who buggers whom."
"Mm! Grammar! What then?"
"Remy t'ought… a nice friendly wrestle… maybe… honneur to
the winner all on a t'row… winner takes all…"
"You perverted little shit! You into rape?" Now Logan is really
angry, his nearly perfect image of the cajun tainted, as if with a
sour taste.
"NON! Nononononono! Non, non, no." Remy's hands are
flapping as if chasing butterflies in his urgency to make his
beloved – maybe never his lover if things keep going like this –
understand what he has in mind, has had, in truth in mind for the
past year. "Je ne… Merde et merde et merde! I not mak' myself
clear, maudit Remy, neve get t'hang of t'language! No rape, no.
No. No."
He is so agitated that Logan starts to believe him, *wants* to
believe him, actually. "No, ok, no, I get that. A misunderstanding.
Now take a deep breath" `and he doesn't want me to call him kid'
he snorts in his mind "and start again. No clever little frenchy
phrases, though, try solid English smut."
Remy obeys his gruff love and takes an almost terminally deep
breast, too agitated still to realise what the sight of his heaving
chest is doing to his man's cock and plunges in again "You don'
want me to fuck you up the ass, oui?" he asks.
"No… Well, don't know, I guess not for now."
"Oui, mais I want to. You wan' to fuvk me up the ass, oui?"
"Oh, yes, bet your shirt on it, k… Remy."
"So I try to undress you an' make you want me and you do
t'same t'me. Maybe we get a lil bruised, non? Mais purquoi…
becaus' we try so hard not becaus' we wan t'hurt each other.
Comprennez-tu? Now you see?"
Logan sighs in relief "Ok, kid… oh, fuck, sorry, ok. *Now* I get it.
Keep on scaring me like this and *nothing* will happen."
"Is that a yes, mon amour?"
"Yes. That was a yes."
Grinning like a wolf, hungry and amused and lovingly ferocius he
turns Remy's blood to water. "When?" he breathes.
"Door's locked, deadly warrior. Let the games begin!"

FOLLOWS? If liked.
As I said *any* feedback necessary as air.
Maybe spelling mistakes don't have time to correct, je suis
desolée
Thank you for reading.
Flyingskull