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Remy "Gambit" LeBeau (aceoheartscajun) wrote in nofandompolitix,

[As Remy looks at Logan, the man, trembling slightly, he almost feels guilty for doing this... Remy knows (from his very large body of experience on the subject) that the greatest orgasms are those not just from pleasure but with adrenaline... why else do people fuck in places where they might get caught? Why do some people like pain? Why does Logan come back from a mission still horny from the combat high? And that kind of thrill, it just melts your brain like you wouldn't believe. Remy so wanted to give that to his friend.]

[On the other hand, Remy knows a little (not much, but enough) of Logan's traumas... their joint terror of medical procedures giving Remy a large hint... and he knows Logan still to this day does his best to avoid any hypodermic needles. He's hugged the shorter man during the nightmares, feeling that stocky body shake in pure terror and relived agony beyond Remy's comprehension... Would Remy risk bringing those traumas back to his friend, just in the name of pleasure?]

[And what amazes Remy so much... the trust. Logan, almost like a dog that was kicked over and over and over until he started seeing all people as threats... Logan trusted him, the demon-eyed, deceptive, manipulative charmer that could charm someone into killing themselves... Everyone else thought Gambit played life like it was poker, not entirely without reason. Thief he was, but there was some sort of honor... not the conventional type... it was loyalty to those close to him. Gambit was so tired of losing those he truly considered friends...]

[And so Remy would make sure that Logan and the Wolverine within him would know he was no threat, no chance of betrayal, never planting knives in the back of the man that watched his... he would Rareyfy the animal as he seduced the man.. the man that gave Remy his first taste of honest, direct friendship]

[Remy laid the short, stocky Canadian on the bed, on his back, cuffing both hands above his head and making sure he had enough pillows... Remy's face bore a warm, sincere smile as he straddled Logan, throwing his trenchcoat off and leaning down to Logan's ear]

[Remy kept his voice deep but soft, whispering one of the lyrics of the song from the karaoke room]
"I try to stand my ground, but its hard, so hard, to leave you alone" [the emphasis in his voice was dripping in mischief]

[The long fingers of his left hand traced a line down Logan, starting at the cuffed wrists, over the bicep, down the chest, stopping at the nipple and tweaking it slowly... his right hand rubbed the shaggy sideburn, then travelled down the neck, right down the artery, brushing over the nipple but travelling lower, the partially-gloved fingers sliding down Logan's chiseled, hairy abdomen, and finding their way below the waistband of Logan's jeans. They slowly embraced the rock-hard cock, beginning to pump an almost torturously slow pace]

[And Remy never once broke eye contact with Logan. He watched Logan's eyes as they travelled through the fear of a caged animal, the trust of a best friend, the pleasure of the depraved. Remy of course had dualities in his personality, the dashing and charming man-whore rogue intermingling with a jaded man so bored with a world of lies that he craved sincerity. But this was nothing compared to Logan's extremes. And Remy watched those extremes on the face, seeing how his actions excited both sides.]